From the sparkling shower of confetti on the book cover to the high-octane antics of an obsessed fan in a flower-petal tutu,...
This story’s protagonist is extremely serious about her favorite subject: Every waking moment is spent conducting research about and training the 17 unicorns in her midst.
From a stuffed rabbit with a carrot held on by a headband and a toy ambulance outfitted with a toothbrush to a baby sibling with a cone tied to their bald dome, everything in Sophie’s orbit becomes a captive student unicorn. Leading by example, the earnest girl in oversized spectacles lectures her unicorns on how to stalk food with a bow and arrow and how to avoid balloons, all the while managing horn regrowth. Soon, the willing playmates notice an actual unicorn, first spotted carrying a rainbow suitcase and strolling in the cotton-candy and candy-cane forest on the title page. The silent creature sits in on the classes, wide-eyed and observant, but Sophie is too absorbed in her mission to notice. White backgrounds showcase the individual and joint activities of the lively figures as the understated, first-person narrative unfolds. Okstad creates depth and energy by foregrounding solid colors and placing pastel patterns, floating shapes, and architectural details outlined in thin black lines in the background. Sophie has black hair, and she and her toddler sib are paper-white.
From the sparkling shower of confetti on the book cover to the high-octane antics of an obsessed fan in a flower-petal tutu, this imaginative tale of a unicorn (non)sighting will appeal to the legions of fellow enthusiasts. (Picture book. 4-6)Pub Date: Nov. 20, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-5344-3161-4
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Aladdin
Review Posted Online: July 23, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 2018
BOOK REVIEW
A straightforward tale of conflict and reconciliation for newly emergent readers? Not exactly, which raises it above the...
In this deceptively spare, very beginning reader, a girl assembles a robot and then treats it like a slave until it goes on strike.
Having put the robot together from a jumble of loose parts, the budding engineer issues an increasingly peremptory series of rhymed orders— “Throw, Bot. / Row, Bot”—that turn from playful activities like chasing bubbles in the yard to tasks like hoeing the garden, mowing the lawn and towing her around in a wagon. Jung crafts a robot with riveted edges, big googly eyes and a smile that turns down in stages to a scowl as the work is piled on. At last, the exhausted robot plops itself down, then in response to its tormentor’s angry “Don’t say no, Bot!” stomps off in a huff. In one to four spacious, sequential panels per spread, Jung develops both the plotline and the emotional conflict using smoothly modeled cartoon figures against monochromatic or minimally detailed backgrounds. The child’s commands, confined in small dialogue balloons, are rhymed until her repentant “Come on home, Bot” breaks the pattern but leads to a more equitable division of labor at the end.
A straightforward tale of conflict and reconciliation for newly emergent readers? Not exactly, which raises it above the rest. (Easy reader. 4-6)Pub Date: June 25, 2013
ISBN: 978-0-375-87083-5
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Random House
Review Posted Online: April 14, 2013
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 1, 2013
BOOK REVIEW
An unfortunately simplistic delivery of a well-intentioned message.
Drawing on lyrics from her Mormon children’s hymn of the same title, Pearson explores diversity and acceptance in a more secular context.
Addressing people of varying ages, races, origins, and abilities in forced rhymes that omit the original version’s references to Jesus, various speakers describe how they—unlike “some people”—will “show [their] love for” their fellow humans. “If you don’t talk as most people do / some people talk and laugh at you,” a child tells a tongue-tied classmate. “But I won’t! / I won’t! / I’ll talk with you / and giggle too. / That’s how I’ll show my love for you.” Unfortunately, many speakers’ actions feel vague and rather patronizing even as they aim to include and reassure. “I know you bring such interesting things,” a wheelchair user says, welcoming a family “born far, far away” who arrives at the airport; the adults wear Islamic clothing. As pink- and brown-skinned worshipers join a solitary brown-skinned person who somehow “[doesn’t] pray as some people pray” on a church pew, a smiling, pink-skinned worshiper’s declaration that “we’re all, I see, one family” raises echoes of the problematic assertion, “I don’t see color.” The speakers’ exclamations of “But I won’t!” after noting others’ prejudiced behavior reads more as self-congratulation than promise of inclusion. Sanders’ geometric, doll-like human figures are cheery but stiff, and the text’s bold, uppercase typeface switches jarringly to cursive for the refrain, “That’s how I’ll show my love for you.” Characters’ complexions include paper-white, yellow, pink, and brown.
An unfortunately simplistic delivery of a well-intentioned message. (Picture book. 4-6)Pub Date: March 17, 2020
ISBN: 978-1-4236-5395-0
Page Count: 32
Publisher: Gibbs Smith
Review Posted Online: Jan. 20, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 15, 2020
BOOK REVIEW
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