Ish by Peter Reynolds, reviewed by Sarah Hammond

Whether you are a child or an adult, who has not been frustrated at some point in time that whatever-you-have-created is not ‘good’ enough? I certainly have. As a creative writing teacher, I have witnessed children making this comment many times about their stories or illustrations, too. 

Here is a suggested solution: read Ish by Peter Reynolds. 

Ish follows the story of Ramon who loves to draw. He draws passionately anytime, anything, anywhere until one day his brother Leon makes fun of his artwork. 

“WHAT is THAT?” he asked.

And with that, Ramon’s confidence in his artistic abilities is dented. His inner critic becomes rampant. Nothing he draws is good enough. Nothing looks right. Drawing after drawing is crumpled and thrown to the ground. 

This, I suspect, is an uncomfortably familiar scenario for many creatives the world over. 

Finally, Ramon gives up. 

However, all is not lost. His sister, Marisol, who has been watching from a distance, picks up Ramon’s crumpled drawing and runs away with it. Furious, Ramon chases after her into her room, but then falls silent. This is not the first crumpled drawing that Marisol has retrieved: a whole gallery of his discarded drawings have been saved and pinned to her wall. When she points out her favorite, a vase of flowers, Ramon mutters that it doesn’t look right. Marisol answers: “Well, it looks vase-ISH!” 

And with those words, she releases her brother from his exacting, paralyzing standards, and he begins to see his artwork ‘in a whole new way.’

‘Ramon felt light and energised. 

Thinking ish-ly allowed his ideas to flow freely.

He began to draw what he felt — loose lines.

Quickly springing out. 

Without worry.’

His confidence grows, and he becomes prolific once more in creating ish-drawings, unfettered by the need to get everything ‘just so.’ And he is not even restricted to his artwork but expresses himself ‘ish-ly’ in writing and other forms too. 

This is such a wonderful message to anyone who needs to give themself permission to loosen up, to silence their over-active inner critic, and unburden themselves from the impossible strain of perfectionism. Instead, why not celebrate trying to the capture the essense, or ish-ness, of the world and your experiences? Although the advice in Ish is simple, it is gentle and forgiving and effective and profound.

Ish is part of a trilogy of picture books by Reynolds called Creatrilogy, including The Dot, which encourages us to make a mark and see where it takes us, and Sky Color, which invites the reader to really look at the world around them for inspiration.  

www.sarahhammond.org

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

Sparky! by Jenny Offill, illustrated by Chris Appelhans, reviewed by Sarah Hammond

I chuckled many times when reading this offbeat, quirky picture book. Many parents express concerns when their child wants a pet. In Sparky!, the protagonist extracts her mother's promise that she can have any pet as long as it ‘doesn’t need to be walked or bathed or fed.’ 

And where would a child go when researching the solution to such a problem? Answer: her school librarian Mrs. Kinklebaum ‘(who knows everything in the world).’

Fast forward to the arrival of a sloth by Express Mail. 

Sparky is an endearing new family member. Offill makes wry observations about his appearance and the peculiarities of his interactions with his new owner. It takes two days for the sloth to wake up, and when he does:

‘He didn’t know a lot of games, so I taught him some. 

We played King of the Mountain

and I won.

We played Hide-and-Seek

and I won…

We played Statue and Sparky

was very, very good.’

The story builds to its climax as the protagonist tries to show off her new pet’s skills to a skeptical neighbor and the local crossing guard in a Trained Sloth Extravaganza. Sparky is not receptive to the girl’s training sessions and, in the end, while the extravaganza does not go as planned, the protagonist accepts his unique characteristics with humor. 

‘I tagged him on his claw.

“You’re it, Sparky,” I said. 

And for a long, long time he was.’

The story is told in first person, and although we never learn the girl protagonist’s name, we get a strong sense of her character. She shows resilience in finding a suitable pet, works enthusiastically to engage with her sloth, and ultimately enjoys the sleepy companionships he offers. Offhill’s thumbnail descriptions of the other characters are also deft and telling.

For me this is a story about a girl adapting to befriend an unusual character with charm and humor at its heart. There is a distinct atmosphere to the book. The writing is concise and spare, the jokes dry and understated. Chris Appelhans (an artist for animated feature films including Coraline and Fantastic Mr Fox) captures the slow-moving Sparky with similar humor in his illustrations. Sparky does not move a muscle whether up a tree or sitting on the ground. Even his expression remains largely the same.Tellingly, the last illustration shows the girl and her sloth sitting happily side-by-side on a branch, watching the sun set.  

www.sarahhammond.org

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

The Book of Mistakes, by Corinna Luyken, reviewed by Sarah Hammond

Some time ago, during one of my Story Explorer Creative Writing workshops for youngsters, a little girl became very frustrated that she could not get her drawing ‘right’, that she kept making 'mistakes’. In fact, she almost ripped through the page with her pencil as she scratched out her illustrations. We worked through the problem, but shortly afterwards I stumbled upon The Book of Mistakes by Corinna Luyken which is the perfect picture book to help in this situation. What an excellent resource to show children that a 'mistake' can actually be the beginning of a whole new set of possibilities. 

The premise of the story is simple: the narrator makes a mistake when drawing a character's face. One eye is bigger than the other. So the narrator tries to fix the problem… and makes it worse. Now the other eye is even bigger than the first eye. BUT, if the too-big-eyes are turned into a pair of glasses, then the character looks even more interesting than in the original drawing. 

The narrator makes more mistakes: the neck is too long, the feet do not touch the ground, a splodge of ink messes up the face. However, with a bit of imagination and creativity, each error develops the story and moves it forward: now the neck is decorated with a beautiful collar, the character is actually wearing roller skates, and the ink blot becomes her hat. 

Some mistakes just do not work out and are disregarded. But in the grand scheme of the other inventions in the book, this does not really matter.  The reader sees that the unfolding story is a work in progress, that it is fun to experiment, to turn one thing into another and see where it takes us. 

After a while, the words in The Book of Mistakes disappear completely. For five straight double-page spreads, the illustrations alone tell the story. Our newly-created girl character moves into a story world, which develops into an adventurous fantasy land of possibility, peopled with children playing around a big tree. 

The perspective for the illustrations now changes, zooms out, so that the tree becomes part of a bigger wood. Then we realize the dark wood is actually on top of a girl’s head (part of her mind?) — a girl that has an uncanny resemblance to the character that was created at the beginning of the book. And now this girl starts to draw a face which reminds us of how the story began… 

We are left with two final questions that address the reader directly: “Do you see how with each mistake she is becoming? Do you see now who she could be?” 

As observed by a child at story time, “Since the girl in the book is the one making the pictures of herself, it’s like she’s the real artist. We’re seeing how the real artist thinks.”

www.sarahhammond.org

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

Superbat by Matt Carr, reviewed by Sarah Hammond

Who doesn’t love a good superhero? Who doesn’t love an engaging animal protagonist? I have read this picture book to youngsters in several of my writing workshops and it goes down a treat. Even the title strikes a chord with these audiences. 

In this story, we follow the journey of Pat the bat who cannot sleep because he yearns to be a superhero. Yet even though he makes himself a costume (struggling to keep his wings out the way of his sewing machine), the other bats need more convincing. What are his superpowers exactly? 

Pat has super-hearing! But so do the other bats. Pat can fly! But so can the others. Pat has echolocation! But so do all his bat friends (and, inadvertently, the reader learns what echolocation means). Carr weaves in animal facts and learnings as this issue is debated. For interested readers, there is a section of Batty Facts in the back matter of the book, too.

Dejected, our hero returns home. Perhaps he is no superhero after all. 

Carr injects humour, both for adults and children, throughout the book. The opening sentences are simple but funny (and informative about animal behaviour): It was the middle of the day and Pat the bat could not sleep. He was bored of hanging around in a dark cave.

There are also jokes in Carr’s comic-book style illustrations. Readers enjoy spotting them, such as the slogan picture on the wall that reads Cave Sweet Cave.  

The adult reader also has cause to smile as we hear the commentary of the residents of the city looking up at Pat flying across the skies. Is it a bird?  Is it a plane? Er… I think it’s a BAT in a funny little costume!

However, all is not lost. Suddenly Pat detects a faint cry from the other side of town. Someone is in danger! And now we see a real superhero, rushing to the rescue in a ‘blur of fur’. Pat’s superpower is ultimately, we discover, his courage. The young audiences in my workshops found this ending very satisfying and relatable. As one girl told me afterwards, ‘courage means you do the right thing, even though it’s hard.’

www.sarahhammond.org 

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

Dress Like A Girl by Patricia Toht, illustrated by Lorian Tu-Dean, reviewed by Sarah Hammond

This is an empowering picture book about what it means to dress ‘like a girl’. Perhaps this phrase has had negative or limiting connotations in the past, but not in this story: it is a cause for celebration. As a group of six diverse little girls get together for a sleepover, their imaginative play leads them to dress up. What should they wear? Who should they be? 

Toht chooses second person point of view to address the girls and the reader directly. Her tone is playful and humourous. Adopting phrases from the fashion world, she turns these ideas on their head. Something crisp and white for hot summer days? How about an astronaut’s outfit to take you into space?  Bright vivid hues to make a statement? We see the little girls charging around in red firefighter’s and blue police uniforms. Sleek swimwear? “Slip on some flippers. Explore the seafloor.” 

Notably, the advice is positive, offering suggestions of all the things the girls could choose to be, without telling them what they cannot or should not do. The outfits span many occupations — doctors, adventurers, construction workers, artists, sportswomen…  The emphasis is on self-expression and, if after that long list there is still not quite the thing for you, “then design something new!” 

The illustrations by Lorian Tu-Dean are mixed-media, comprising watercolor, gouache, colored pencil and ink. These images show lively, exuberant, resourceful girls on adventure after adventure, accompanied by their expressive dog. The riot of ideas in the illustrations mirror the text well. 

Dress Like a Girl is an engaging story and is also ideal to show girls what they can be in the vein of recent best-selling titles such as Rosie Revere, Engineer! or She Persisted. After all, it is the person underneath that is most important -- the clothes should be tailored to girls’ dreams. 

"What does it mean to dress like a girl? 

Many will tell you in this big wide world

that there are strict rules that must be addressed,

rules you will need when looking your best.

But when you are given these rules to obey,

the secret is heeding them - in your own way."

www.sarahhammond.org

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

Shadow, by Suzy Lee, and The Wall In The Middle of this Book by Jon Agee, reviewed by Sarah Hammond

I was inspired to review these two books by an outstanding picture book dummy workshop I attended recently, run by Laura Montenegro. The focus of the class was the ‘gutter’ of the picture book. As a general rule, book designers keep images and words well away from the gutter (that is, the inside margin on bound books) so they do not disappear into the crack. However, in these two inventive and original picture books, the gutter is an integral part of the story. 

Shadow, an almost wordless picture book by Suzy Lee, uses it horizontally. With the click of a light switch, we discover a little girl in the attic on the upper page, and below the gutter the shadows of the attic objects are reflected on the lower page. A young reader would have fun matching up each object to its shadow. 

Our protagonist shapes her hands to make a shadow bird on the attic floor. This shadow reflection take on a yellow hue and, through the girl’s imagination, begins to develop a life of its own. The story becomes a celebration of creativity as the shadow world grows richer and richer. The little girl immerses herself in her imaginative play, literally diving into the shadow realm on the lower pages of the book. 

The story ends as it began as the little girl goes down for dinner and, with the click of a light switch, the attic is in darkness once more. Or is it?

By contrast, Jon Agee’s The Wall In The Middle Of This Book, uses the gutter vertically to insert a wall division between pages. A knight on the left page is pleased with this wall as it keeps the scary animals (and, we later discover, an ogre) safely contained on the right page of the book. 

However, the reader begins to notice that all is not as it originally seemed. The scary animals on the right pages appear to be frightened by a mouse, and slowly but surely a body of water with lurking sea monsters is rising up the left pages…

Readers will enjoy spotting these changes and the developing visual stories that unfold on either side of the wall. From an adult perspective, I loved the satisfying conclusion that assumptions about the need for walls, and the ‘bad’ creatures on the other side of them that need containing, might not be correct after all.

Both books encourage readers to engage in a fresh way -- the movement and tension of the stories depend on the physical shape and design of the book. Although for different reasons, both stories celebrate the journey to the page beyond the gutter, to adventure and exploration albeit within the age-appropriate safe realm of a picture book. This makes for a satisfying read on many levels.

www.sarahhammond.org 

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

A House That Once Was by Julie Fogliano, illustrated by Lane Smith and reviewed by Sarah Hammond

I stumbled on this little gem a few weeks ago. I read it, and read it again. And again. It is a lyrical picture book that somehow seeped into my bones. What is it about? It is a story of two children who stumble upon an abandoned house in the woods. Yet this summary of the subject doesn’t really do it justice. Here is the opening: 

Deep in the woods

is a house

just a house

that once was

but now isn’t 

a home. 

Although there is no punctuation, there is no doubt as to the rhythm of this sentence. The story has a strong voice. We know exactly how to read it out loud. Also, there is a hint of fairy tale — deep in the woods — and a wistfulness in the tension between what is and what was. 

The children get closer, noting evidence of the house’s past and its current state. The house is magnetic and ‘waiting’. Temptingly, the front door is “closed but not quite.” And the window is: 

‘…watching. 

A window that once opened wide. 

A window that now has no window at all. 

A window that says climb inside.” 

Slowly the children start to look for clues. Who lived here? They ask questions in hushed tones, growing bolder as they explore.

It is a story full of wonder and exploration. Empty houses can be sad places and at times there is a sense of loss, of the house waiting for someone to come home. But the author also balances this with humour in the children’s pondering:

‘… were they shipwrecked and now live on an island

wearing coconut clothes with a pineapple tie?’

The children even wonder if the house likes savoring its memories, hidden in the forest, intertwining with nature.

The illustrations by Lane Smith mirror the wistful nature of the story, teasing us with artifacts and possessions around the house of ‘someone who’s gone but is still everywhere’. The present day scenes are made with India ink, drawn on vellum, then pressed onto watercolor paper to create a blotted line effect. However, the illustrations showing the children’s flights of imagination and wonder — such as, ‘was it a man with a  big beard and glasses who would look out the window and dream of the sea?’ — are created using different techniques. They are brighter, more definite and also more whimsical. For these imagined scenes, Smith used oil paint on hot press board and scanned with paper collage elements that were combined digitally. 

As with the artwork, this ostensibly simple story has many layers. It is an adventure. It teases and stimulates the imagination. It also muses on the passage of time, on memory, on change, yet gives a reassuringly comforting ending for its audience. It is also a picture book poem.

www.sarahhammond.org 

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

Roller Girl by Victoria Jamieson, reviewed by Sarah Hammond

I have to confess that I did not know a lot about graphic novels until recently. I also knew next to nothing about roller derbies. But Roller Girl piqued my interest — it was a New York Times bestseller, a Newbery Honor book, and graphic novels are earning themselves special places in bookshops these days. The book did not disappoint. 

Twelve year old Astrid’s world is changing. It is the summer before she starts junior high. She is enthralled by a roller derby league game that she attends with her mother and her best friend, Nicole. However, Nicole does not share Astrid's enthusiasm, pulling away from her, spending time with an arch enemy (Rachel) and chooses ballet camp over joining Astrid in roller camp. When a new friend asks Astrid ‘What's your thing?’ (hers is theatre and musicals), she cannot really answer. 

Yet, roller camp does more than teach Astrid how to roller skate. It empowers her. Its fierce, energetic skaters give her new mantras: “Tough! Strong! Fearless!” And the more involved Astrid becomes in this new world, the more she comes to terms with the changes in her life, from girl to teenager, to reforging her relationships with friends and her mother, and also to learning what her ‘thing’ is. Clue: she gives herself a new name for the skate track, Asteroid. 

Things I loved about this book:

— the energetic story line that moves apace. 

— we are plunged into the little-known world of roller skating, warts and all. Astrid falls. Again. And again. She aches. She almost gives up. ‘Thunk.’ ‘Ow.’ ‘Aaaaaaghhhhhh.’ Humour, determination, heartbreak and dreams blend in her journey to master the new sport. Plus the reader learns too; I now understand what jammers, blockers, and bouts are, and perhaps more importantly, why the skaters are exhilarated by the demanding, often painful, boisterous game.

— the story is realistic. Astrid is not perfect. She makes mistakes. She is out of her depth at the camp to begin with and does not become a star ‘jammer’ overnight. But she does improve. And she does develop skills that rescue her team and her friendships. 

— Astrid’s flights of fancy made me chuckle. Her long walk home, aching and exhausted, after her first class becomes a stumbling desperate stagger through a parched, scorching desert. When she finds the courage to apologize to a friend, we see her fantasy of a teary, heartfelt reunion, quickly followed by the real life muted mumbled friend’s response. Astrid’s enforced clothes shopping trip with her mother is portrayed as a tortured trip through hell... 

— we understand the complexities of becoming a teenager. Things are not black and white anymore. The ‘emojis’ that Astrid’s elementary school teacher used to explain emotions are no longer so easy to apply. Now Astrid creates new expressions: happy + sad = shad. Nervous + sick = nersick. 

—  girl power is on fire in this story. Sisterly camaraderie and fierce, empowered role-models abound. 

A fresh take on the timeless transition-to-teen theme with expressive, humorous illustrations, a rollicking pace and a loveable protagonist, this is a novel worth reading.

www.sarahhammond.org 

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

Mary's Monster: Love, Madness, and How Mary Shelley Created Frankenstein by Lita Judge, reviewed by Sarah Hammond

“Picture books by Lita Judge” was the theme chosen by my friend for one of our book club meetings. This was a great idea as Judge is an accomplished picture book author and illustrator. As I perused my local library catalogue, I stumbled upon another book for older children (aged 13-17) that immediately caught my eye: Mary’s Monster, Love Madness, and How Mary Shelley Created Frankenstein. Mary Shelley was a runaway pregnant teenager and rejected by society, the Introduction informed me. My interest was immediately piqued. And rightly so. I had only to read the initial few pages to know this was something special. 

As the first modern science fiction book, birthing the ‘mad scientist’ archetype and also the legendary Creature that still haunts us 200 years later, Frankenstein was a novel that defied convention. Judge’s book is also deliberately hard to categorise. It is part biography, written in first person free verse, and also veers into fantasy as the narrative delves into Mary Shelley’s inner world. Judge has made over three hundred full-bleed black-and-white watercolour illustrations which create, in her words, ‘a dance between words and art’. The overall effect is an all-consuming immersion into the life of Mary Shelley, her work, her imaginings. 

The beginnings of Frankenstein are often ascribed to a famous ghost-story challenge set by Lord Byron, the Romantic poet, to Shelley and her circle one rainy evening. However the seeds of this story lie much deeper. Judge uses concise, evocative poems to communicate the threads leading to the creation of Mary's story, embedded in well-researched historical and societal context.  

Mary was born into a world of extremes on the night Herschel’s Comet lit up the London sky. Her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, was an advocate of women's rights, later considered the founder of the feminist movement. She died ten days after giving birth. Her father, an anarchist who fought for the poor and the oppressed, encouraged Mary to be independent and imaginative. Yet her practical application of these teachings was too much for both her father and society.  Mary fell in love with a married man, Percy Byshhe Shelley, and ran away with him together with her sister. Soon she fell pregnant and was publicly shunned. Modern readers might be interested in considering some of these themes in light of the recent #MeToo campaign.

Judge does not shy away from the harsh life Mary faced, including the loss of her baby and her lover sharing her sister, Claire. 

Although scandalous, Mary’s social circle gave her access to cutting edge scientific thinking of the time. For instance galvanism, a process by which a corpse could be ‘animated’ using electric shocks, was a popular topic of conversation. How far could these scientists go? How far should they go? 

As dark events circle ever closer around Mary, she takes refuge in the story that is growing within her. The illustrations show that the Creature is often near her now. Significantly, Mary’s Monster is divided into nine parts, and Mary took nine months to write and give birth to the first full draft of her own creation: Frankenstein. 

Tellingly, it is her Creature — Frankenstein’s monster — who opens and closes her story in the Prologue and Epilogue.  

“Most people didn't believe Mary Shelley,
a teenage girl, unleashed me,
a creature powerful and murdrous
enough to haunt their dreams.”

For those interested in delving deeper, there is a useful Teacher's Guide and also a short video about The Making of Mary's Monster. The back matter is also rich with detail, including thumbnail explanations about what happened to the rest of the characters. 

www.sarahhammond.org 

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

Leaf, written and illustrated by Sandra Dieckmann, reviewed by Sarah Hammond

“Crow saw it first. The strange white creature carried upon the dark waves towards the shore.”  

This picture book opens with the unexpected arrival of a polar bear, who is mistrusted by the animals of the wild wood. They do not understand him. They are scared of him. The creature behaves in unusual ways, collecting leaves from all over their wood. What should they do? 

The premise is deceptively simple but brings with it deeper questions. How do we treat those who move into our home, who are different, who do not behave as we do? The animals gather to discuss the creature every day ‘although no one was brave enough to talk to him.’ Because of his fondness for leaves, and also because the animals want him to leave, they name the creature Leaf. 

This is reminiscent of another book, also published in 2017: Wishtree by Katherine Applegate. Based on similar themes, the word ‘LEAVE’ is inscribed into the trunk of the Wishtree when a Muslim family moves into the neighbourhood. We are invited in both books to consider our reaction to ‘otherness’. 

One day, Leaf bursts through the trees covered in the leaves he has collected, and jumps off the edge of a hill, falling into a lake. It is the crows, in the illustrations, who follow Leaf back to his cave. If the reader looks closely, he will see that illustrator is showing us, with the lightest of touches, that the bear is crying. 

The animals meet again. Now what should they do? Their attitudes are changing. The crows have sympathy for Leaf but the other animals still fear him. Nothing is agreed so nothing is decided. 

Again, Leaf runs through the woods covered in leaves. Now he is more desperate, jumping over the cliff and into the sea. Finally, the crows take action: it is time to hear Leaf's story. 

For the third and final time, all animals meet. They approach the bear. This time they all listen. At last they understand. 

The bear had ‘drifted over from far across the sea, where the ice was melting.’ He had been launching himself into the air, covered in leaves, trying to fly home.  

Here is our second theme: climate change. The initial illustration of the sad polar bear, arriving on a too-small piece of ice, has striking resemblances to the widely circulated photos of these creatures as their habitat disappears. 

The animals now want to help Leaf to find his way home. Having learned the importance of listening to his story, this becomes part of their solution. After all, a story is a powerful thing. 

Although the two themes — of displaced characters, of climate change —  are timely, the book seems timeless. Sandra Dieckmann’s illustrative style is dreamy, evoking the mood of fairy tales. She uses a refined color palette which complements the subject matter, and her combination of intricate techniques play with space and keep the eye moving around the page. Notably, Dieckmann uses more volume and lifelike details for the animals, changing point of view as the story progresses. In the distance, we often find the repeated outlines of faraway mountains, suggesting that beyond the wild wood is a bigger world. 

The quote at the front of the book is significant: ‘Deeper meaning resides in the fairy tales told to me in my childhood than in the truth that is taught in life.’ — Friedrich Schiller. 

www.sarahhammond.org

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

A Properly Unhaunted Place by William Alexander, illustrated by Kelly Murphy, reviewed by Sarah Hammond

I seem to have developed a taste for ghost-hunting stories of late, including treasures such as Jonathon Stroud’s rip-roaring Lockwood & Co series, and the dazzlingly and original Skinful of Shadows by Frances Hardinge. A Properly Unhaunted Place is another good 'un. It provides an unusual take on traditional ghost stories in which the living seek to send ghostly beings firmly on to the lands of the dead. 

In this middle grade novel, William Alexander skillfully introduces us to the unsettling town of Ingot.  The protagonist, Rosa Diaz, has just moved in with her mother and is not happy about her new home. Something is not right here.Something is missing. Something important. Although, as yet, we do not know what. 

The story unfolds on two levels. We learn that Ingot is strange because it is unhaunted: the ghosts that ordinarily exist alongside the living are notably absent. So why would Rosa’s mother, an appeasement specialist, bring her daughter, who is also skilled in these arts, here? Appeasement specialists respect the dead. They negotiate with restless or troublesome ghosts and strike deals with them so that they settle. And why is Ingot ghostless in any event? 

Rosa befriends Jasper, a local boy, whose parents are heavily involved in the renowned Renaissance Festival that reenacts historical events on a grand scale all summer long. As Jasper introduces Rosa to the festival, the unthinkable happens -- a ghost bursts out of the forest towards the living. 

Alexander's writing is tight, poetic and concise. Humour threads through the story too, introducing the reader to memorable characters: the motorbike riding ghost who does not realize he is dead; the candlemaker who will only converse in old-fashioned speech; the librarian with 'wispy hair, white gloves, and aggressive eyebrows.'

Kelly Murphy's illustrations are scattered sparsely throughout the text. My favourites include her depictions of the otherworldly creatures, and also the image of Jasper with his armour-clad father, cleverly reflecting the face of Rosa in the chest-plate. 


Rosa confronts the questions raised by the unexpected ghost and, together with Jasper, begins to investigate its origins and ultimately Ingot’s past that seems lost beyond the townspeople’s collective memory. 

And this leads us to the second, deeper level underpinning the story. Rosa’s mother describes herself as a ‘servant of memory’ in her ghostly appeasement work. Without memory, without our past and our ghosts, what is left? Rosa comes to realize that Ingot’s celebrated Renaissance Festival is, in fact, ‘a funeral… a wake. They hold it every summer, all summer long, to mourn the history they don’t have and don’t even remember losing.’ ‘Starved of history, they patched together new echoes from mismatched fragments. Unhaunted, they learned how to haunt themselves.’

Ultimately the past and the present must make peace with each other and learn to coexist. It is healthy to remember our ghosts and welcome them in. 

www.sarahhammond.org 

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE

Boris and Bella by Carolyn Crimi, illustrated by Gris Grimly and reviewed by Sarah Hammond

As this is the first Awfully Big Blog Adventure Review of October and as Halloween is just around the corner, are you in the mood for a deliciously ghoulish monster story? 

If so, read on. This time, I have chosen to review the picture book Boris and Bella by Carolyn Crimi.

Set in the monster-inhabited town of Booville, we are introduced to two wonderfully incompatible neighbours. Bella Legrossi is so disgustingly messy — ‘her slime is the slimiest, her grime is the grimiest’ — that she has to live alone. Next door, Boris Kleanitoff is so persnickety — vacuuming his bats and dusting his cobwebs — that no one lives with him, either. 

The two polar opposites despise each other. They hurl insults. They delight in excluding each other from their monster shindigs. 

Until Halloween, that is. 

Both Bella and Boris plan rival parties, but to their horror, both sets of invitations are politely declined in favour of Harry Beastie’s Halloween bash. For the first time, the warring neighbours share something: a grudge against Harry. As ‘Halloween night soared in on bat wings’, Bella and Boris reluctantly attend his event. 

There are many ghoulish delights at the party: snake-spit stew, bobbing for eyeballs and a skeleton connecting his hipbones to his neckbone 'just for fun' to name a few. Much of the charm of this book is found in its wicked humour, word play and devilish details. 

What happens? As the two disgruntled guests unite in their critical assessment of Harry’s party, Bella and Boris learn that perhaps they have something in common that might take the edge off their mutual dislike… 

Structurally, this book has a tight neatness that Boris would be proud of. The illustrations add much to the atmosphere of the story, too. Gris Grimly chooses a sepia colour palette and a quirky style reminiscent of Tim Burton’s Nightmare Before Christmas. The characters are expressive, the visuals are witty and humorous — the grill with sharp teeth at Bella’s bar-boo-cue, the unravelling mummy dancing the night away... We have a strong sense of the monsters' world. 

This story also has a big heart. As well as reading gory details and monster jokes, we watch uncompromising and objectionable characters soften, find common ground, and ultimately the basis for a new friendship. Learning to compromise and become tolerant is a special talent. I closed the book feeling satisfied and with a smile on my face. 

www.sarahhammond.org

Return to REVIEWS HOMEPAGE