David’s good little Miranda is being handed a bill of goods from her working parents: “Tomorrow,” they reply to her requests, and they take her consent for granted. When they fail to deliver Miranda’s favorite Saturday waffle breakfast, and again make the feeble “tomorrow” response, Miranda metamorphoses into a rough-and-tumble alter-ego—Lucretia, who is green and nasty. Miranda is inside Lucretia’s head, staring out her eyeball to witness the proceedings, and can communicate with Lucretia but not with her parents. Lucretia asks Miranda what she wants, and at first all is well, with all Miranda’s requests fulfilled. Then Lucretia turns mean, humiliating the parents and disregarding Miranda’s pleas. After Lucretia makes Miranda’s mother stick pencils up her nose and sing “Polly Wolly Doodle,” Miranda cuts loose and reappears, sending Lucretia back to a primitive corner of her brain. The parents are delighted to have their good girl return, but slip into their “tomorrow” motif until prompting from Lucretia firms up negotiations. Lucretia will appeal to every child who has ever succumbed to vague parental procrastinations, and Oubrerie’s illustrations are just what the story ordered: bug-eyed, elemental, and more than a tad crazy. (Picture book. 6-9)
Pub Date: Oct. 1, 1998
ISBN: 0-385-32614-9
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Doubleday
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 1998
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
This is a terrific story about place and connections across time. Ben and his grandmother have gone to open up the family beach house on the Oregon coast for the summer. Ben is initially put off, but not Grandma: “Oh, I do love this old place. It smells just like summer.” When Ben discovers a blown-glass float for a fishing net, Grandma says it drifted all the way from Japan and that Ben’s father found it on the beach years ago. After some more poking about and a swim in the bone-cracking cold water and, then, a night of wind and rain, it is Ben’s turn to find just such a marvel on the beach. That history repeats itself so neatly strains credulity, but who would deny so radiant a familial tapestry? Jessup has created an enticing world of storms, memories, and summer. Readers will want to stay, smell the salt air, and learn more from Grandma. (Picture book. 3-8)
Pub Date: June 1, 1999
ISBN: 0-670-88260-7
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Viking
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 15, 1999
Gliori (Mr. Bear Babysits, etc.) offers a version of the adage that it takes a village to raise a child, when Mr. and Mrs. Bear get help from a community of loving friends in soothing their fretful newborn. When the serenity of the nighttime forest is shattered by the incessant wailing of Mr. Bear’s newest child, the woodland animals offer the bleary parents suggestions on how they put their own offspring to sleep. With ingenious and amusing results, Gliori devises forest-appropriate baby furniture, from Mr. Bun’s lettuce and carrot cradle to Mrs. Buzz’s honey-filled hive. Alas, none of these remedies works and soon the friends drift back to their own homes. Only Small Bear can enlighten her parents as to what the baby needs—a warm snuggle in bed with the family. The endearing illustrations are brimming with humorous details. The bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. Bear looks as if a small whirlwind hit it—it is strewn with tiny clothes, small toys, the ubiquitous pile of baby care manuals, ointment, and more—deftly conveying the way one very small and helpless creature can reorient a family’s entire universe. (Picture book. 3-6)
Pub Date: March 1, 1999
ISBN: 0-531-30152-4
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Orchard
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 1999
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