Review - Going Up!

Going Up!
by Sherry J. Lee
illustrated by Charlene Chua
Date: 2020
Publisher: Hachette Book Group
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 40
Format: e-book
Source: NetGalley

An elevator ride to a birthday party turns into a shared experience bursting with joy in this multicultural story about community, togetherness and the special feeling of belonging.

Today is Olive's birthday party, and Sophie and her dad have baked cookies. Sophie's dad holds the platter so Sophie can push the elevator button for the tenth floor. But on the way up, the elevator stops to let the Santucci brothers get on. Then on the next floor, Vicky, Babs and their dog, Norman, get in. And as the elevator ascends, it keeps stopping, and more neighbors squeeze in to the crowded space: the Habibs, the Flores family, Mr. Kwan, Vi Tweedle with her Chihuahua, Minx. Everyone is going to the party!

Playfully combining the excitement and anticipation of a party with children's universal love of riding in elevators, Sherry J. Lee's picture book story is ultimately about community and a sense of belonging. With characters from many cultural backgrounds, it showcases the everyday diversity that many urban children experience. Charlene Chua's illustrations provide loads of funny details and visual narratives that aren't in the text, making for a multilayered reading experience. The book's tall, narrow trim size adds to the effect of the rising elevator.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

This slightly claustrophobic picture book is rather cute, showing a community of friends all gathering together for a birthday party as the elevator takes them up to the tenth floor.

The story is told by Sophie, who goes to the party with her dad. They live on the first floor, so they take their cookies that they baked and get into the elevator. As they stop at each floor, more and more friends get on. And they're a diverse bunch. There's the Santucci brothers, who look like aging rockers (but who also love cats and knitting); the Habib family, whose grandkids are dressed as superheroes and carrying a South Asian snack to share; the Flores family, which includes an adolescent boy in a tutu; and even Arnie, who plays the bass and wears orange Crocs. Ignoring the weight limit on the elevator, the group eventually makes it up to the tenth floor and the party begins!

There are lots of cute details in the illustrations. This is a book that you'll probably want to look at more than once, just to make sure you see everything. The story is simple, but the concept is done quite well.

Overall, this is a pleasant picture book with a diverse cast and a joyous premise. Who doesn't love a party with friends?

Thank you to NetGalley and Hachette Book Group for providing a digital ARC.

Premise: 4/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 3/5
Illustrations: 4/5
Originality: 4/5

Enjoyment: 4/5

Overall: 3.83 out of 5

Review - Grasshopper Eye and the Lost Vial

Grasshopper Eye and the Lost Vial
by Michelle Jester
illustrated by Larry Jester
Date: 2019
Publisher: Yellow Duckie Press
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 44
Format: e-book
Source: NetGalley

When the villagers first noticed that they each had one item missing from their homes, they set out on a journey that helped them find something far more valuable. Join Grasshopper Eye on a journey through friendships, feeling, and fitting in.

This book is featured in the contemporary fiction novel by Michelle Jester, Two Thousand Lines, however this is a stand-alone book for children.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

Grasshopper Eye and the Lost Vial appears to be a sort of meta picture-book offering, similar to Elena Ferrante's The Beach at Night. This story apparently featured in one of Jester's adult novels. Unlike The Beach at Night, Grasshopper Eye and the Lost Vial is actually suitable for children... but I'm not sure I would recommend it to them.

The story itself, about a grasshopper who makes vials for the villagers to keep their tears in, ends up being pedantic and preachy, and ultimately a bit nonsensical. Grasshopper Eye makes a special glass vial (illustrated with a photo, which looks odd in conjunction with the hand-drawn doodles of the characters) for each villager. Whenever they cry, they store their tears in the vial. One day, a villainous ogre by the name of BugBear Opie becomes jealous and steals all the vials. Then the villagers can't cry. They resort to getting angry instead. Eventually, the vials are found, except for one: Grasshopper Eye's. The other villagers offer him their vials to use, and he's so touched that he cries. The ogre cries, too, and apologizes... and then everyone cries. Grasshopper Eye makes a vial for the ogre, even though he doesn't need one anymore (wait... what?).

I think the narrative lost me at the end. The story shows the characters crying for various reasons, and even explicitly talks about the importance of crying... but then it implies the ogre doesn't need a vial because he's happy. What about happy tears? Grateful tears? Do those not get bottled? And why do these characters need a special vial in order to cry in the first place?

There's a Bible quote at the back about weeping and loving people around you. I guess that was what inspired the story. The sentiment is nice, but the execution is pretty flawed. The writing almost made me wonder if the book were written by a child (the language is stilted and sort of reads like a kid trying to impress their teacher). The illustrations, as I mentioned before, are a strange mix of drawings and photographs. I've seen that work in other books, but it doesn't really work here.

Kids might like this, but I have my doubts as to whether readers who enjoyed the novel that this book appears in are going to be all that impressed.

Thank you to NetGalley and Yellow Duckie Press for providing a digital ARC.

Premise: 2/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 3/5
Illustrations: 2/5
Originality: 2/5

Enjoyment: 1/5

Overall: 1.83 out of 5

Review - Simon Steps Into the Ring

Simon Steps Into the Ring
by Marylène Monette
illustrated by Marion Arbona
Date: 2020
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 32
Format: e-book
Source: NetGalley

Simon tries to be kind. But sometimes he loses his temper and acts without thinking, which almost always gets him into trouble. As Simon begins to understand his outbursts, he imagines himself in a boxing ring with his emotions. Can he come out on top and learn how to acknowledge his feelings?

(synopsis from Goodreads)

This is a story about emotional regulation. I'm not sure if the translation is just clumsy, but it doesn't really seem like a book for children; at times, the vocabulary is pretty advanced, especially given the simplistic way the main character is urged to deal with his feelings.

Simon gets in trouble at school. He imagines he has lots of little Simons inside of him, each fighting the other for supremacy. His uncle tells him that they're all important, but that they each have their place. What Simon really needs is a referee.

I'm not a fan of framing the whole emotional struggle with a violent metaphor. All of Simon's emotional states are represented by little boxers... but this doesn't make a lot of sense for some of the calmer, kinder Simons. I'm also a bit put off by encouraging kids to segment their personalities like this; the discussion at the end tells kids to think about their own little versions of themselves. Is it healthy to dissociate like this? Or even blame bad behaviour on some personified aspect of the personality? I'm not a psychological expert, but this just doesn't sit quite right with me.

I thought the illustrations looked familiar, and I realized I'd seen Marion Arbona's work before in Sam's Pet Temper by Sangeeta Bhadra. That's actually a much better look at emotional regulation in kids, and I think I would probably recommend that book over this one for this particular topic.

Overall, this didn't quite work for me. I don't know if all kids are going to be able to imagine all these separate aspects of themselves, and I'm not even sure if they should. Even if they do, I think some are going to struggle with assigning the pugilistic characteristics of a boxer to aspects of the personality like "Perfect Brother", "Good Student", and "Joyous".

Thank you to NetGalley and Orca Book Publishers for providing a digital ARC.

Premise: 2/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 2/5
Illustrations: 3/5
Originality: 3/5

Enjoyment: 2/5

Overall: 2.33 out of 5

Review - Boxitects

Boxitects
by Kim Smith
Date: 2019
Publisher: Clarion Books
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 40
Format: e-book
Source: library

A STEAM-centered, adorably illustrated picture book about Meg, a brilliant and creative boxitect who creates extraordinary things out of ordinary cardboard boxes.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

This is an okay story about competition between two rivals. It also encourages kids to try their hand at building things with cardboard boxes.

Meg is a boxitect, meaning that she likes to build things with cardboard boxes. Her mother, seeing her talent, sends her to Maker School. Meg is the only boxitect there among the blanketeers, spaghetti-tects, tin-foilers, and egg-cartoneers... for a while. Then Simone shows up, and the battle of the boxitects begins. On the day of the Maker Match, when they're supposed to be working together, they're actually competing with one another. Eventually, their creation, weighed down by ridiculous amounts of cardboard, collapses. The girls have to think fast and work together to salvage their project.

The story is okay, although I don't know if it's a good idea to be teaching kids there's such a thing as "Maker School"; it sounds totally fun, and some readers are bound to be disappointed to find out it's not real. There are some instructions at the back for building a couple of cardboard projects, as well as a simple experiment that shows kids how corrugated cardboard gets its strength (unfortunately, the pictures show Meg holding the paper the wrong way, so it's not going to work; she needs to turn it 90 degrees).

This book might find an audience among kids who already like to make things. I probably would've liked it when I was little... although I would've been disappointed to find out I wouldn't be going to Maker School.

Premise: 4/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 3/5
Illustrations: 3/5
Originality: 3/5

Enjoyment: 3/5

Overall: 3.17 out of 5

Review - The Berenstain Bears: No Girls Allowed

The Berenstain Bears: No Girls Allowed
by Stan & Jan Berenstain
Date: 1986
Publisher: Random House Books for Young Readers
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 32
Format: e-book
Source: library

Sister Bear can run faster, climb higher, and hit a ball farther than the boys, and she gloats over it. So Brother Bear and his friends build a clubhouse for boys only, and Sister is hopping mad! She plans a honey of a revenge in this funny and thoughtful book.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

I may have encountered this book in my childhood (my younger sister had quite a Berenstain Bears collection). Back in the 1980s, this was probably a very forward-thinking book. The overall message is good. Unfortunately, some of the details are kind of dated, and I think parents could probably find books with more modern, relevant messages.

Sister likes to tag along with Brother and his friends. As she gets older, she starts to be able to outrun and outplay them. And she's not subtle about it when she wins. So Brother and his friends make a secret clubhouse and decree that no girls are allowed. Sister thinks this is unfair, and her parents agree. So she starts her own club with all the girls from the neighbourhood that have been left out. She wants to disallow boys, but Mama gently dissuades her. Eventually, the cubs all make up and share.

I think part of the problem I'm having with this is that the boys-versus-girls thing is really overdone... when it doesn't need to be. The thing that probably rankles these boys so much about Sister winning isn't so much that she's a girl... but that she's younger than them. If this story had focused more on the sibling rivalry aspect rather than making it a battle of the sexes, it might seem a little more up to date. Gender binary roles are heavily pushed, too (baseball, marbles, running, and climbing trees are all considered "boy" activities, while jumping rope, picking flowers, tea parties, and reading books are considered "girl" activities). And there's some casual racism thrown in there, too, with Sister's victory celebrations (she resorts to "war whoops" to gloat). All of these things together would make me hesitant to give this book to a modern child.

This may have been fine for teaching my generation that girls can do the same things boys can do, but the lesson doesn't really go far enough and the book still promotes rigid gender stereotypes. Maybe that's part of the reason why women are still fighting for equal rights in our world: books from previous generations didn't go far enough. (If you're a child of the '80s or '90s, read this one for the nostalgia factor. Otherwise, I'd recommend treading with caution.)

Premise: 3/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 3/5
Illustrations: 3/5
Originality: 3/5

Enjoyment: 3/5

Overall: 3 out of 5

Review - Margot and the Moon Landing

Margot and the Moon Landing
by A. C. Fitzpatrick
illustrated by Erika Medina
Date: 2020
Publisher: Annick Press
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 40
Format: e-book
Source: NetGalley

A universal story about speaking, listening and being heard.

Margot loves space. Astronauts, the stars, and especially the moon landing. So she can’t understand why all of her attempts to communicate her passion fall on disinterested ears. Her mom is patient but distracted; her classmates would rather play kickball; and her teacher just wants her to focus and pay attention in class. Even so, Margot wishes she never had to talk about anything but space ever again.

When she wakes up one morning and discovers she can only recite Neil Armstrong’s famous speech from the moon landing, Margot realizes she has an even bigger problem. How can Margot get everyone to pay attention and—more importantly—to hear what she’s really trying to say? This powerful picture book debut plays with themes of listening and communication to highlight the importance of a space of one’s own, no matter what your passion may be.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

I'm actually a little bit surprised by this one... and not in a good way. While the underlying ideas about listening are fine, there's another way this book can be interpreted, and it leads to some very uncomfortable messages.

Margot is obsessed with space. All she wants to do is read about it. When she's not reading about it, she's talking about it... even if it's not an appropriate time or place. One day, she wakes up and the only things that come out of her mouth are parts of Neil Armstrong's famous speech. Nobody thinks anything's wrong, because she's always talked about space before, anyway. She goes home, frustrated, and writes out all her worries on her wall (even though she knows that's wrong). Her mother reads what she's written, her normal words come back, and her mother encourages her love of spacey things.

What I'm having a problem with here is that Margot could be interpreted as being on the autism spectrum. She has a fixed, narrow interest. She doesn't want to do anything else; when the other kids try to engage her in other activities, she just blurts space facts at them. She doesn't seem to be able to read other people or gauge situations, and tries to share her space facts at inappropriate times (like during a kickball game, or when she's called on in math class). She's aware she's different, but she doesn't seem to know what to do about it. Now, it wouldn't be a problem if Margot were autistic... except for the fact that the story seems to punish her for it. Through some supernatural justice system, she's condemned to repeat Neil Armstrong's speech as punishment for... what? Being obsessed with space? This punishment doesn't really serve to teach her anything (she's still just as obsessed with space at the end of the book, and presumably annoying her classmates with random facts). I almost got the feeling that there's supposed to be a "boy who cried wolf" thing going on here. But that's rather unfair, given the way the character is set up. In essence, Margot ends up being punished for her autism.

The pictures are fine, but I just don't feel right about the story. If it had taken a slightly different approach and perhaps addressed the elephant in the room, it might have worked better. Instead, we're left with a story about a girl who's punished for something that's out of her control. (Had she shown an ability to rein in her perseveration, I might have viewed her character a little differently. But since she seemed incapable of doing so, it felt unfair for her to be punished for it.)

I'm afraid I can't recommend this one.

Thank you to NetGalley and Annick Press for providing a digital ARC.

Premise: 2/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 3/5
Illustrations: 3/5
Originality: 3/5

Enjoyment: 1/5

Overall: 2.17 out of 5

Review - I Got You a Present!

I Got You a Present!
by Mike Erskine-Kellie & Susan McLennan
illustrated by Cale Atkinson
Date: 2020
Publisher: Kids Can Press
Reading level: C
Book type: picture book
Pages: 32
Format: e-book
Source: NetGalley

A quest for the perfect birthday present leads to ever grander (and ever more imperfect) gift ideas in this clever metafiction story that's hilarious any day of the year.

"I wanted to get you the greatest present ever," our narrator tells us. But somehow, none of the best ideas seemed to pan out. First, there was the pair of hand-knitted birthday socks (have you ever tried knitting birthday socks?). Then, the ten-scoop ice cream cone (a disaster to carry), the magic kit (it disappeared, just like magic!), the apple juice-fueled jet pack (still a few kinks to work out) and the dinosaur (I couldn't find one anywhere). And now, time has run out, and our narrator still has nothing to give. Or, maybe there is something after all. Something that contains all those awesome gifts in one. Something that can be enjoyed again and again, just by turning the pages...

In their debut picture book, Emmy Award-winning children's television writers Mike Erskine-Kellie and Susan McLennan have created a laugh-out-loud story filled with heart. The metafiction approach (speaking directly to "you") and fun story together with the antic exuberance of Cale Atkinson's bold and colorful illustrations make this a lively read-aloud that will keep even the youngest children engaged. Though a book about finding the perfect birthday present is itself the perfect birthday present, it's also simply a delightful read for any time of year. It also offers an excellent character education lesson on perseverance.

(synopsis from Goodreads)

At first glance, I thought this was a story about an obnoxious lying duck. But then I got to the end and... I get it.

The narrator, a duck, tells you (the reader) all about how they set out to get you the perfect gift. They tried making things. They tried buying things. But something always went wrong. No matter how simple or outlandish the gift, there's always an excuse as to why it isn't being given to you. Until... there's a meta twist. I won't spoil it.

The illustrations by Cale Atkinson, whose work I previously encountered in Sir Simon: Super Scarer, are fine, with a somewhat retro style and cute details throughout. I'm not sure if I really love them, but they do work well to illustrate the story.

Overall, this is an interesting twist on a picture book that focuses on birthdays and gift-giving... with an unexpected ending that ties everything together.

Thank you to NetGalley and Kids Can Press for providing a digital ARC.

Premise: 4/5
Meter: n/a
Writing: 4/5
Illustrations: 3/5
Originality: 4/5

Enjoyment: 3/5

Overall: 3.5 out of 5