The Willoughbys by Lois Lowry - review

The Willoughbys by Lois Lowry
I just finished this book, sitting on the front porch drinking lemon soda and giggling out loud. Summer is so great.

The Willoughbys is a tour de force. In this short novel (174 pages, and that's including the glossary and bibliography), the estimable and thought-provoking Lois Lowry presents her own idea of a nice activity for a fine summer afternoon: she fires up the grill and roasts the living crap out of some of the most ludicrous and unpalatable tropes of classic children's literature.

• She takes the baby left on the doorstep, shears its angelic curls, and pawns it off on a neighbor.
• Her brave orphans are neither orphans, nor brave (at least at first).
• The long-lost relative is not particularly missed.
• The Swiss are by and large insufferable.

At least none of the characters manage to convince a wheelchair-bound pal to get up and walk again. That's one plot nugget too awful to be rehabilitated, even with barbecue sauce and hickory smoke.

And what emerges from the smoke, caramelized and juicy, is a story as lovable and appealing as it is wry and twisted.

The Willoughby children (there are four of them, plus two more that they pick up along the way), who are old-fashioned yet unsentimental, remind me of the kids in the Nurse Matilda stories. Or the Penderwicks. Roald Dahl will also come to mind. The children themselves frequently cite classic children's literature. But despite all these references and echoes - some explicit, others deliberately implied, and at least one sniffed out by a perSnickety fellow author - The Willoughbys stands on its own.

Will there be parents who recoil from the Willoughby children, who wish their (hilariously) detestable parents dead? "I'm wondering," Jane said, "would a crocodile eat a person in one gulp? Or in chunks?" Or who recoil from the Willoughby parents, who are indeed detestable (though hilariously so)? "Two tourists were eaten in huge gulps but it was not sad at all because they were French." I hope not. Because, you know, "hilarious" means "just joking, you dolts!"

My kids are off with their aunties and uncles splashing in rivers and having scavenger hunts in the woods. But when they get back, I am reading this book to them as soon as possible. And as long as Bob and I don't run off on a vacation of our own and try to sell the house out from under them, I won't worry about them getting any ideas!

The cow that laid an egg by Andy Cutbill, illustrated by Russell Ayto - review

The cow that laid an egg by Andy Cutbill, illustrated by Russell Ayto
By the same token, cows are mostly silly in children's books. Often they'd like to differentiate themselves from the herd. Cutbill's cow, Marjorie, is no exception. She feels like she isn't special. "I can't ride bicycles and do handstands like the other cows. I just feel so ordinary."

And poof! just like that, The cow that laid an egg proves itself to be anything but ordinary. There follows a tale of goodhearted chickens, shrieking farm folk, fame, jealousy, accusation, suspense... and a happy ending.

Today I handed it to a kid who had proudly shown me his first library card. He's just beginning to read on his own, so I gave him this book and There Is a Bird On Your Head!.

Tupelo rides the rails by Melissa Sweet - review

Tupelo rides the rails by Melissa Sweet
Melissa Sweet is a prolific illustrator whose work I have admired in a lot of different contexts. The Boy Who Drew Birds and Girls Think of Everything were both considerably enhanced by her work.

I didn't ever get a chance to see the first book she wrote herself, Carmine, so I was glad to bring home Tupelo Rides the Rails, and I'm super-glad to report it is just as charming and heartfelt as her watercolor and mixed-media illustrations.

Tupelo is an abandoned dog (sad!) who falls in with a pack of other strays who call themselves the BONEHEADS. Each dog is hoping for a home, and, with the help of a hobo named Garbage Pail Tex, each one finds one - except Tupelo (sad!). In the end, Tupelo is adopted by Garbage Pail Tex, and they settle in for a life riding the rails together (happy!).

There are lots of sturdy fold-outs and lots of dog characters, each with a distinctive look and voice. You can tell Melissa Sweet really likes dogs. Although Tupelo is a bit text-heavy, my kids sat still for the whole thing and even asked for it again.

Endpaper bonus: gorgeous old maps of the heavens and a timeline of canine history (in dog years).

This is the day! Adapted by Phillis Gershator, illustrated by Marjorie Priceman - review

This is the day! Adapted by Phillis Gershator, illustrated by Marjorie Priceman.
I don't always go for Marjorie Priceman's sort of Chagall-y work: I know it's meant to be gestural, but it often falls over the edge into slapdash for me.

But boy do her willowy women and 1950's wirework furniture work in this book, an adaptation of an old song that goes "Monday's the day we give babies away with half a pound of tea. Here comes a lady who wants a baby. 'I'll take this one,' says she..." It's an irresistible song, light-hearted and with an adoption theme, and the illustrations are sunny and swingy and the whole book just really works.

Besides the fact that a different song with the same title is one of my favorite songs of all time. ALL TIME. THE THE ROCKS, PEOPLE. (And oh my, wasn't Matt Johnson cute back when he had hair!)