Always Up for Aesop

The simple fables attributed to Aesop have been told and retold for centuries, yet they still touch us. The brevity and relevance of the stories bring out the best in some illustrators. One of the most stunningly beautiful editions published in the last decade is Helen Ward’s The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse. 

Who could resist such a gorgeous feast of colors and textures, of vivid words and painted details? The lovely cover image is only the beginning; readers enter a sensuous and fully realized world. We see through the eyes of the country mouse, who knew “the insect-filled fields of summer and the rich, ripe orchards of autumn.” We experience the seasons, from spring’s fluffy pink apple blossoms to fall’s tawny red apples to winter’s crusted snow and then, back to the bluebells and sprigs of spring.

One bright morning, the city-slicker cousin arrives and points out differences between the two homes. No mud and no wild animals in the city, the mouse says. And “we dine on rich, exotic foods in sumptuous surroundings.” Ward’s paintings of the country, showing the beech trees’ golden and bright green leaves, berries glowing like amethysts and rubies, and a pond’s silvery reflections subtly explore another kind of wealth and foreshadow the story’s message.

The city mouse’s descriptions soon lead to the country mouse’s discontentment and longing for a new and different way of life. In the winter, he “hitched a ride toward the bustle and hum of the city.” Here, he finds a world of lights! elevators! fine, shiny Christmas ornaments! And the magnificent spread of cakes and cookies, tarts and eclairs seems heavenly until … the big-eyed, hungry pug arrives to spoil the day.

We last see the country mouse back home in the country, curled up in his simple, cozy nest. What a telling contrast with the last, wordless page showing the bloated city mouse sleeping in the cut-open wedge of blue cheese. It’s hard to imagine a more beautifully rendered version of this fable; it’s a work of art perfectly aimed at ages 5 to 7.

In Heather Forest’s The Contest Between the Sun and the Wind: An Aesop’s Fable, readers will find themselves pondering the question: “Can gentleness, instead of force, be an effective way to achieve a goal?” 

The simple but meaningful story involves a man who’s wearing a coat as he walks down the road. The Wind blustered that he was stronger than the Sun, and the sun agreed to see which of the two could get the man to take off his coat. As was his custom, the Wind blew with all its might, but the harder he blew, the more tightly the man held the coat next to his body. The huffy Wind gave up, and then it was the Sun’s turn. And when the Sun shone brightly, so brightly, the man grew warm and decided to remove his coat.

The storyteller has collaborated with the fabulous illustrator Susan Gaber on four other books. As expected, this one shines with the artist’s impressive range of perspectives, a pleasing palette, and a luscious sense of energy and movement. For more of their fine work, see their charming version of The Little Red Hen: An Old Fable, which focuses on the value of cooperation and community.

And no child should miss Jerry Pinkney’s magnificent The Lion and the Mouse, for which he earned the 2010 Caldecott Medal. One of Aesop’s most beloved fables, Pinkney’s wordless version tells the story with his amazingly detailed artwork, making it a great choice for educators who want to engage children in making predictions.

The fable’s plot, in which the seemingly insignificant mouse is brave and generous enough to save the lordly lion, offers wonderful opportunities to discuss the importance of kindness and respect for all.

Kimmel Turns up the Heat

I’ll admit, “Little Red Riding Hood” has never been a favorite of mine. But leave it to the fabulous storyteller Eric Kimmel to inject some spicy fun into the creepy old tale.

Set in Texas, Little Red Hot features a sassy girl dressed all over in fiery red, who just loves anything and everything made with chili peppers: “She ate peppers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She ate pepper ice cream for dessert. She had hot pepper cake for her birthday … .”

When Little Red Hot hears her grandma’s not feeling well, she decides to bake a hot pepper pie, just the thing to “knock those cold germs right out of her.” Readers can’t help but laugh when they hear how she goes about preparing that pie, with four kinds of ferocious peppers, along with Louisiana Hot Sauce. Why, “that pie was so hot, it baked itself.” And if the description of that concoction doesn’t kick up laughs, Laura Huliska-Beith’s lively illustrations (this one displays the word “WARNING” in capital red letters) surely will.

Little Red Hot sets off on her pony and meets Pecos Bill, who warns her Senor Lobo, otherwise known as the Big Bad Wolf, is on the prowl.

All too soon, she sees a toothy gray creature running toward her. Aiming to calm her worries, the wolf claims he’s merely harmless old Senor Coyote. Foolishly, she tells him where she’s going.

Just as you would expect, he reaches Grandma’s house before she does. When Little Red Hot arrives, she cuts Grandma a big piece of pepper pie and remarks on Grandma’s big eyes and big ears and big teeth. Then, she shoves that slice of pie in his mouth, and … let’s just say he never bothered Little Red Hot again.

Kimmel’s energetic retelling — complemented by red-hot paintings rendered in gouache, acrylic, and colored pencils — provides fine fare for a rowdy read-aloud for ages 5 to 7.

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Discovering Home

Some of the best historical fiction for upper-elementary and middle-school children invites readers to ponder such themes as how culture shapes identity … the significance of friends and family … and how all people have the same essential needs for home, food, shelter, love and acceptance. Students can hear news reports about immigration almost daily, but they might relate more easily to vibrant novels featuring spunky young protagonists who must make their way in a strange new land.

Candace Fleming’s Lowji Discovers America shows just how far it is from Bombay to Hamlet, Indiana. Nine-year-old Lowji is used to …

• a home on the 47^th floor of an apartment building
• the sounds of honking cars, rattling trains and rumbling double-decker buses
• animals, even cows, running free in the city
• lots and lots of relatives – and a best friend

Lowji’s adventures in small-town America start right away with a fainting pig, a potty-mouthed parrot, and a man as big as a mountain. Leave room for a belly full of laughs with this lively, good-natured novel.

In her author’s note, Grace Lin notes, “Growing up Asian in a mainly Caucasian community was not a miserable and gloomy existence. But it was different. I wrote [The Year of the Dog] because it was the book I wished I had had when I was growing up, a book that had someone like me in it.” Pacy and her sisters are the only Taiwanese-American children at school until … Melody arrives. The girls become friends, enter a contest together, share a crush on the same boy, and enjoy the same food. Pacy even finds her true purpose in life. What will you find here? A charming story of friendship, self-discovery and a girl’s connection to her heritage, all told in a direct manner and dotted with amusing ink drawings. The charm continues in Lin’s sequel, Year of the Rat.

For a darker, more dramatic plot, try Donna Jo Napoli’s The King of Mulberry Street. Nine-year-old Beniamino’s mother leaves him on a ship in Naples, believing he will have a better life in America. Sailing into the New York harbor in 1892, the abandoned Jewish-Italian boy has his first and only new pair of shoes and acquires a new nickname, “Dom.” What he lacks, though, would alarm nearly anyone coming to the U.S.: he knows no English, has no one to greet him, and has no place to sleep. He spends his first night in a wooden barrel in an alleyway. Quick-witted Dom soon learns to avoid the cruel padroni, men who force homeless boys into slavery to work off their debts. As he struggles daily, Dom recalls the wise proverbs his Nonna taught him. He makes new friends and creates his own job by selling sandwiches. Based in part on her grandfather’s childhood, Napoli’s novel prickles with conflict, historical context, and unforgettable characters.

Give a Carrot a Chance?

Who knew carrots could be so wacky and wonderful? Creepy Carrots! reaped a 2013 Caldecott honor for its original, way-too-much-fun illustrations by the acclaimed Peter Brown (Children Make Terrible Pets and A Curious Garden and others). Feature this in your story hour, and you’ll harvest a bushel of laughs and a high demand for an original tale that appeals to many children’s taste for slightly scary stories.

A mashup of funny and frightening images done in retro black, white, and orange, Creepy Carrots! features a carrot-obsessed bunny who learns you can have too much of a good thing. The ridiculous nature of the plot — that carrots stalk a rabbit — supplies much of the frisson that sets this picture book apart from others.

The pacing of author Aaron Reynolds’ crazy tale will keep listeners wide-eyed and curious to hear more. Just after relishing his victory snack, Jasper the rabbit is puzzled by a soft, sinister sound: “the tunktunktunk of carrots creeping. He turned … but there was nothing there.”

And what expressions Peter Brown shows on the faces of Jasper and the carrots! Even though Jasper laughs at himself for even thinking carrots might be following him, the illustrator displays a range of conflicting emotions: eyebrows that look bewildered, eyes that seem anxious, and a mouth sporting a shallow smile. As for the carrots, some look like fierce, gap-toothed jack o’lanterns, while others look worried, surprised, intimidating.

The tale ends with a twist that will endear this book to many a reader. Make room for Creepy Carrots! in your story time or on your shelves. You won’t regret it … or will you?

A more lovable but still humorous perspective on carrots sprouts in Jan Peck’s The Giant Carrot, illustrated with verve by Barry Root.  Sweet little Isabelle, the youngest in the family, comes up with a special way to deal with a carrot that just won’t budge.

With visions of all the good stuff to come — carrot juice, carrot stew, carrot relish, and carrot pudding — each family member takes turns nurturing a carrot seedling. Papa tends the plant, Mama weeds around it, brother Abel waters it, and Isabelle … sings. And that’s what makes the plant grow and grow and grow.

At last, it’s as tall as Papa Joe, but it seems impossible to pull it out of the ground. Only when they all work together can they harvest the carrot that will supply a bounty of tasty treats.

Some of you no doubt will find this familiar fare, as it’s a riff on the Russian big turnip folktale. While there are many versions of the story, I recommend this charming one for children ages 5 to 8. The Giant Carrot illustrates the value of cooperation, while it also implies we should respect everyone, no matter how tiny. And that’s not all; it offers opportunities for multiple curricular uses. Science teachers can use this title in a unit on plant life, and reading teachers might employ it to teach the skill of predicting, or cause and effect. No matter the intention, you and your listeners will reap plenty of fun.

Another folktale that features sassy veggies is The Talking Vegetables
by Won-Ldy Paye and Margaret H. Lippert. The villagers plant a garden, but Spider doesn’t do his part. Finally, he tires of eating plain old rice and decides to help himself to the vegetables. But they won’t hear of it — and tell him so! This hilarious Liberian folktale, illustrated with exuberant paintings by Julie Paschkis, reveals the importance of working together to accomplish a goal.

Any of these fun read-alouds can be paired with Juanita Havill’s clever poem “The Monster,” from her collection I Heard It from Alice Zucchini: Poems About the Garden. The rhythmic, mostly unrhymed lines explore how the vegetables feel about the scarecrow in their midst. It’s one of twenty fun poems that celebrate the cycle of a garden, from winter’s seeds that “rattle their packets with chattering” to a potato buried in the snow.

And see my previous post, “How Does Your Garden Grow?”

Mothers’ Unending Gifts

What gifts do our mothers pass down to us? With The Granddaughter Necklace, prolific author Sharon Dennis Wyeth has created a masterful tribute to the legacy of a loving family. 

The cover image of a peony-bedecked matriarch holding up a glittering necklace of crystal beads to a pigtailed girl sets the tone for this gracious, bighearted picture book. As we discover why that necklace is so precious, we also learn about each mother and the special context in which the gift was shared.

Drawing from her own family history, the author traces the whereabouts of a fictional necklace and presents a brief, enlightening vignette featuring each of seven generations. The effect of this moving story is heightened by the beautifully rendered paintings done in acrylic-gouache by Bagram Ibatoulline. The reader is never overwhelmed with details, as both illustrations and typography give one time enough to pause and appreciate each descendent and her era. An intelligent design choice, for instance, occurs as each mother bequeaths the necklace; at the bottom of the page that woman’s name is revealed with a large, elegant script that resembles handwriting.

The author brings the story full circle, as she herself awards the necklace to her own young daughter following her big piano recital.

In Wyeth’s interesting afterward, she points out how her family has, to her surprise, been traced to an Irish woman named Frances, who settled down with Theodore Harper, a free man of color who owned a farm in Virginia. The author’s African ancestress, from Cameroon, remains unknown, yet Wyeth asserts “she dwells in my heart with Frances and with my mother and with all of my other grandmothers.”

Don’t miss this stunning tribute to mothers and daughters. Perhaps The Granddaughter Necklace will inspire you, too, to share some of your own family’s stories.

See also …

 

 

Five Alive for Cinco de Mayo

With Cinco de Mayo approaching, why not spice up your story time with a few appealing picture books that incorporate  choice Spanish words?

Get the party started with the hilarious Mice and Beans by Pam Muñoz Ryan. A harried grandmother is preparing a birthday party for her young granddaughter, Catalina. So much to do! Several times Abuela misplaces items or forgets details and each time, she muses, “No importa!” Fortunately, she has a little help from an unlikely source — mice, those pesks she has always shooed out of her kitchen whenever she’s spotted them.

The plot’s sly humor and lively details, including the children’s beloved pinata, are captured with Joe Cepeda’s bright, energetic oil paintings. Read this with gusto; Mice and Beans includes a glossary and pronunciation guide to help with the Spanish words and phrases woven into the charming story.

Keep the laughs coming with The Cat Who Came for Tacos, by Diana Star Helmer, another picture book with simple Spanish words and phrases, as well as a lively plot. “Mi casa es su casa,” a man and woman tell a stray cat that comes to their home and stays to share their tacos. Oh, what manners that cat has! Children love hearing how the adults patiently teach the impulsive cat how to eat like a human. Adults will appreciate the subtle message of how we should respect others.

For those looking for a more contemplative tone, consider Martín de Porres: The Rose in the Desert by Gary D. Schmidt and illustrated with characteristic verve by David Diaz. Winner of the 2013 Pura Belpre Illustrator Award, this picture-book biography introduces children to the Catholic church’s first black saint in the Americas.

Martin was the humble child of a Spanish conqueror and an African slave. Growing up in the Lima barrios, he had a tender, spiritual nature. Yet, when he wanted to enter the Monastery of the Holy Rosary, the prior insisted Martín could never become a priest because he was “not of pure blood.” So Martín instead worked as a servant, mopping floors, cutting the monks’ hair, sweeping the chapel, all the while submitting to the brothers’ heartless prejudice against him.

Martín began to heal others — wounded dogs, desperate villagers, and eventually, the brothers in the monastery and even the Spanish royals, whom Martín tended after he had helped the poorest in the barrios. After 13 years of such service, Martín’s wish to join to the monastery as a brother came true.

Strange and wondrous stories followed Martín throughout his life. Some said he walked with angels or could appear in two places at once. Others said his lemon and orange trees produced fruit all year long. When he brought bread to the hungry in the barrios, the food seemed to multiply so that he always had enough.

The story of this “rose in the desert,” as his mother called him, is an uplifting tale of compassion and triumph. The author’s note supplies additional background information on Martín de Porres, born in 1579 and canonized in 1962. He is the patron saint of universal brotherhood, interracial relations, social justice, public education, and animal shelters.

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A Fine Day for a Walk

Make room on your bookshelves for one more duckling book this spring. Eva Moore’s Lucky Ducklings: A True Rescue Story has the feel and look of a modern classic. At the same time, the plot derives from events that occurred in Montauk, NY, in 2000, when the community came together to save some hapless little ducks.

As this charming picture book relates, nature does not exist solely in the country. “The Duck family lived in a pretty pond in a green, green park, in a sunlit little town at the end of a long, long island.” The illustrator Nancy Carpenter beautifully evokes the setting with her muted, watery palette, achieved with charcoal and digital media.

“It’s a fine day for a walk!” Mama Duck proclaims. With simple, rhythmic language, Ms. Moore takes us along with Pippin, Bippin, Tippin, Dippin, and Little Joe as they make their way past overflowing trash cans, head off the curb, and follow Mama over the storm grate. Mama steps across easily, but, oh, my, the ducklings fall through! That could have been the end of the story, the author notes, but, thankfully, it didn’t stop there.

Plenty of folks pitch in to help the little ones; an observant bystander notices what happened and calls for help. Firemen and a tow-truck driver are able to save the ducklings and reunite them with their mama.

The afterward, too, shows how the community prevented other small animals from the same predicament: they replaced the storm drain grate with a new one with smaller openings.

Evocative, simple, and memorable, Lucky Ducklings makes for a fine read-aloud for ages 5 to 7.

Also see …