Following Patient Butterflies

As I sit on my back porch reading, I often look up to watch the world flutter by at a languid pace. I’m surrounded by a border of overgrown abelia bushes that arch and bloom, luring silent hummingbirds and graceful Eastern Tiger Swallowtails. I stretch in the blessed shade and marvel at the strong wings that come this way each summer.

Aston, Dianna Hutts. A Butterfly Is Patient. Illus. by Sylvia Long. Chronicle, 2011.

Poetic text and bright, detailed watercolors lift this informative nonfiction book to lofty heights. Employing the same accessible format of their two previous winners, An Egg Is Quiet and A Seed Is Sleepy, this talented duo trace the insects’ development from egg to flight. Along the way, readers will learn how butterflies and moths differ, as well as facts about metamorphosis, pollination, camouflage, and migration. Young and old will succumb to the temptation to pore over Long’s lifelike close-ups of dozens of caterpillars and butterflies, clearly labeled without detracting from the beauty of each winged creature. “A butterfly is creative,” the author notes. So is this lovely book, fine as wing scales “stacked like shingles on a roof.” Recommended for ages 7-10.

Engle, Margarita. Summer Birds: The Butterflies of Maria Merian. illus. by Julie Paschkis. Holt, 2010.

“Each year, the sky fills with summer birds. Many people call them butterflies. Everyone believes that these insects come from mud, as if by magic. I disagree.” In the Middle Ages, people believed insects were evil. Maria Merian, a brave German girl born in 1647, defied her culture’s conception of nature and its expectations for women. Intrigued by butterflies, she observed their life cycle and carefully painted the insects and their habitats. The illustrator’s vivid jewel tones and profusion of vines and imaginary creatures evoke the passionate nature of this remarkable woman, copies of whose prints now live in the world’s art museums. Engle’s concluding note provides additional details on Maria Merian, who went on to become a scientist, artist and world explorer. Educators can use this fine picture-book biography for a bevy of cross-curricular activities and discussions. For ages 7-10.

Kroll, Virginia L. Butterfly Boy. illus. by Gerardo Suzan. Boyds Mills, 2003. This tender story features young Emilio and his invalid grandfather, who find delight in a flock of red admiral butterflies. The boy senses his abuelo is “smiling inside, even though his mouth could no longer show it.” Emilio is able to get near the bright insects, inspiring his neighbor to call him “Butterfly Boy.” During the winter, he reads in a book that the butterflies are attracted to white surfaces, such as their garage wall. Emilio’s excitement upon their return in the spring turns to dismay as he sees his father is painting the garage blue. What can he do? Emilio snatches his white shirt from the clothesline and puts it on — and the red butterflies flock to him. Like Abuelo and his family, readers will find reason to smile when reading this sensitive story enlivened by Suzan’s bright, playful watercolors. Ages 5-8.

Sierra, Judy. The Beautiful Butterfly: A Folktale from Spain. illus. by Victoria Chess. Clarion, 2000. Make room for laughter with Sierra’s lilting variant of a Spanish folktale that features a lady butterfly courted by a motley procession of suitors. A cricket arrives first, wanting to marry her. The butterfly poses this crucial question: “And if I do marry you, how will you sing to our babies?”  The cricket’s annoying click fails the test. Next, the frog comes to woo. His ugly “Croo-AH!” just won’t do. Finally, a mouse, with a soothing “ee-ee-ee-ee-ee,” is the perfect choice. Unexpectedly, though, Mouse falls into a pond and is eaten by a fish. Sierra comes to the rescue here; realizing this conclusion saddened children, she researched the story’s variants and discovered some endings that involved underwear. Butterfly and everyone who hears the news mourns, some in outlandish ways. The turning point comes when the king runs around in his royal underwear. Even the fish laughs — and out pops the mouse. Don’t miss this one! Ages 6-8.

Fiction’s Lens on Unlikely Friends

The multitude of unlikely fictional animal friends populating stories continues to grow. A variety of recently published children’s books explore friendship with great sensitivity and nuance. One of my favorites is the lovely, bittersweet City Dog, Country Frog by the prolific author Mo Willems. The friendship begins one spring afternoon, with Country Frog teaching his friend games that “involve jumping and splashing and croaking.” City Dog, in turn, teaches the frog games that “involve sniffing and fetching and barking.”

Willems follows the pair throughout a year, delineating how each responds to the changing seasons. In the fall, when Country Frog feels tired, the dog suggests they play “remembering games.” Jon Muth’s lovely watercolor painting shows the two sitting on a rock, with glorious autumn-gold trees reflected in the lake. Above, the clouds show vague dog and frog shapes, leaping and playing. Winter brings solitude for the dog, as he can’t find Country Frog anywhere. Muth’s double-spread illustration shows the lonely City Dog, surrounded by a frozen blue lake and a quiet, looming forest.

When spring comes again, City Dog is looking for a friend and again meets an unexpected one. The open-ended denouement provides opportunities for readers and adults to discuss what might have happened to the frog and, more importantly, to ponder the nature of friendship and the passage of time.

Willems features two other unusual, appealing animal friends in his humorous easy-reader Elephant and Piggie series.

What are some of your favorite unlikely animal friends? Here are a few more outstanding ones:

Keller, Holly. Farfallina & Marcel. Harper, 2002. Lovely story traces the friendship of a caterpillar (farfallina means “little butterfly” in Italian) and a gosling. Science teachers can use this sweet picture book to teach life cycles. 2003 Charlotte Zolotow Award.

Rodriguez, Béatrice. The Chicken Thief and Fox and Hen Together and the just-published Rooster’s Revenge. Enchanted Lion. 2010 and 2011. This strikingly original trilogy explores the unpredictable and changing nature of friendship — without using words. Rodriguez packs an enormous amount of expression and surprise in these picture books, sure to spur a range of conversations about relationships and life itself.

If you’re looking for longer works featuring animals, pick up nearly any of the wonderful ones by Dick King-Smith. You’ve heard of Babe, but have you met Three Terrible Trins or one of my favorites, Lady Lollipop? Hop on over to the library, friends, for some good-natured novels that beg to be read aloud!

A Storm Called Katrina

Uhlberg, Myron. A Storm Called Katrina. Illus. by Colin Bootman. Peachtree, 2011.

“Don’t you worry now,” Mama told Louis. “After some huffin’ and puffin’, Katrina will blow away and land up the coast just like all those other hurricanes.” What no one anticipated, however, is that the hurricane that landed August 29, 2005, would break the levees and alter the landscape and even the language of New Orleans.

By focusing on the experiences of a particular fictional family, Myron Uhlberg renders a moving story built around that event and its chaotic aftermath. The narrator is ten-year-old Louis, named after the legendary jazz trumpeter Louis Armstrong. As the storm rattles his darkened bedroom window, Louis hugs his shiny brass cornet and somehow feels better.

At last the rain stopped, but when Daddy opened the door the next day, something worse appeared: water seeped in. With no time for packing or planning, Louis and his parents join others desperate to escape their inundated neighborhood. Louis snatches his precious horn from the coffee table before leaving.

Realistic, well-chosen details suffuse the oil paintings by award-winning artist Colin Bootman, who also illustrated Uhlberg’s picture book Dad, Jackie and Me.  He situates the family’s simple, well-loved abode in its neighborhood of shotgun houses of many hues, lived in by people of various races, but mostly by other African-Americans. He captures the folks’ worried expressions and especially the family’s care for each other as they venture through flooded streets, holding hands.

Employing a striking palette of deep marine blues and mutable shades of turquoise, Mr. Bootman immerses readers in a watery world where normalcy vanishes. Can a porch become a boat? Can streets become rivers? Can a neighborhood disappear in one day? Such is the stuff of nightmares or Alice-in-Wonderland fantasies – or of the real world that families such as Louis’s encountered that day. Brightness occasionally pierces the illustrator’s dark images – the glint of Louis’s cornet, a dazzling, blue sky; an artificial Christmas tree drifting by, ornaments still attached; and most troubling to Louis, a lost dog with a red ball. Mama, Daddy, and Louis keep floating on a piece of someone’s torn-off porch, unable to care for the pup.

As the waters rise, so does the tension. Louis grabs a broom to help steer their “lifeboat.” Who wouldn’t wonder what might lie beneath those murky waters? The author hints at the existence of dead bodies in the water, as Louis’s broom hits a pile of clothes. Mama quickly covers his eyes and tells him not to look.

The family’s tortuous journey takes them to the higher ground of the Superdome, where multitudes of people are crowding the gates. The bewildering bigness of the Dome, its white roof punctured by storm winds, comes across in Mr. Bootman’s painting of the family surveying the football field from their perch in the distant stands. In a story filled with irony, the family’s predicament seems even darker in the stadium that when floating on the bit of porch.

Yet, Mr. Uhlberg does not offer us a story of helpless victims. Children will thrill to the quick thinking of Louis, who comes up with the perfect solution when Daddy loses sight of the family. And, interestingly, thanks to Mama’s decisiveness, the family eschews the yellow schoolbuses that finally arrive to take the stranded elsewhere.

The author and illustrator beautifully balance this troubling tale with just the right amount of optimism.  Even the dog with the red ball has reason to yelp with joy, as it gets to join Louis and his parents on their way back home. Adults will no doubt notice the vague, muted horizon confronting the family and will wonder how they will cope with the obstacles ahead. The simple answer evoked by Mr. Bootman’s concluding image is this: by putting one foot in front of the other.

The somber facts of the flooding that killed 1,800 people show up in the author’s note, along with three photographs relevant to the picture book. The author’s suggestions for additional books and websites will prove helpful for young researchers.

A portion of the proceeds from sales of A Storm Called Katrina will be donated to the Norman Mayer Library, which is being rebuilt in the Ninth Ward neighborhood of Gentilly, New Orleans, the setting for this story.

Reprinted by permission of NYJournalofBooks.com

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• LSU faulted for firing prof critical of post-Katrina construction (chron.com)
• The Big Uneasy: A Film by Harry Shearer. “Natural disaster? You don’t know the half of it.” You must see this moving documentary on the mind-boggling mistakes of the Army Corps of Engineers, who built the levees that didn’t do the job. Thanks for this eye-opening film — and thanks for coming to my little city, Harry!
• POGO (Project on Government Oversight): Release the Hounds. Here’s an update on a whistleblower interviewed in Shearer’s recently released film The Big Uneasy.