More!

After the ALA youth media awards, including the Caldecott and the Newbery, come the Notables. This year I was particularly pleased to see More by I.C. Springman (illustrated by Brian Lies; Houghton Mifflin, 2012) make the list, mostly because I sympathize with Magpie. After Mouse offers Magpie a marble, Magpie goes on to collect a few things (a red lego brick, an Austrian schilling), then more. And more. Magpie's a hoarder! And would be right at home on my desk.

Although More is meant to be a cautionary tale, I tend to agree with Sophie Blackall, who "can’t help thinking the magpie is only going to wait until the mouse is looking the other way before he spies a shiny guitar pick and starts all over again" (NYT review of More, 5/11/2012). Don't ask me how I know. I will say, though, that we all pored over Brian Lies's illustrations, picking out familiar objects from among Magpie's collection of things. I love that Lies, magpie-like, collected many of the objects that appear in the book from (ahem) his own desk drawers. More reason to keep them.

We have a winner!

Congratulations to Adam Rex, who won our Mock Caldecott Award for Chloe and the Lion (Hyperion)! Committee members liked the three-dimensional quality of the illustrations--the stage sets and Sculpey figures--as well as the way the representation of the dragon lion changes depending on who is supposed to be drawing him [Note: Author Mac Barnett actually did some of those drawings!].

They also liked the interaction between the author and the illustrator(s), Hank included, at the heart of Chloe and the Lion.

The committee named four Honor books: 

• Goldilocks and the Three Dinosaurs as retold by Mo Willems (Balzer+Bray).
• One Cool Friend by Toni Buzzeo, illustrated by David Small (Dial).
• This Is Not My Hat by Jon Klassen (Candlewick). [I subbed this title in yesterday.]
• Unspoken by Henry Cole (Scholastic). 

We would happily have named more but had to stop somewhere!

Congratulations all around, and especially to our hard-working committee, who read and discussed thirteen (13!) books this snowy Saturday morning. Whew. Debriefing to follow; now I need a nap.

More Mini Mock Caldecott

Tomorrow morning, just as the real Caldecott Committee is starting its second day of meetings at ALA Midwinter in Seattle, a small group of third-graders (and some parents, too) will gather at my house for a Mini Mock Caldecott of our own. In the meantime, I decided to add another handful of books to the five (six) I was originally considering--the more, the merrier!

I tried to choose (from other Mock Caldecott book lists, mostly) books that complemented one another--books about dogs (Homer and Little Dog Lost), books that convey the feeling of cold (Little Dog Lost and One Cool Friend), etc. Also books that third graders might like--so no Baby Bear Sees Blue, although it would have paired nicely with Green. Here's the rest of the list:

And Then It's Spring by Julie Fogliano, illustrated by Erin Stead (Roaring Brook).

Boy + Bot by Ame Dyckman, illustrated by Dan Yaccarino (Knopf).

Chloe and the Lion by Mac Barnett, illustrated by Adam Rex (Hyperion).

Extra Yarn by Mac Barnett, illustrated by Jon Klassen (Balzer + Bray).

Little Dog Lost: The True Story of a Brave Dog Named Baltic by Monica Carnesi (Nancy Paulsen).

One Cool Friend by Toni Buzzeo, illustrated by David Small (Dial).

Red Knit Cap Girl by Naoko Stoop (Little, Brown).

I'll share more about the process--and, of course, our results--on Saturday afternoon. Wish us luck! I have no idea what will win.

Books That Cook: The Bake Shop Ghost

[A very occasional feature in which the Books Together Test Kitchen (that would be me and my kids) prepares a recipe from the back of a picture book. This one makes a moist delicious chocolate cake.]

We seem to check out The Bake Shop Ghost by Jacqueline K. Ogburn (illustrated by Marjorie Priceman; Houghton Mifflin, 2005) several times a year: on Valentine's Day, for Milly's birthday, at Halloween (although it's not really that kind of ghost).

It's a lovely, longer picture book about the ghost of Cora Lee Merriweather, who haunts her bake shop, scaring away an international assortment of bakers, until pastry chef and new proprietess Annie Washington promises to "Make [her] a cake so rich and so sweet, it will fill me up and bring tears to my eyes. A cake like one I might have baked, but that no one ever made for me." Annie has to bake a lot of cakes before the sweet and satisfying conclusion, but thankfully the one at the back of the book comes out perfect every time.

The Bake Shop Ghost was featured on NPR way back when and even made into a short film (starring Academy-Award nominated Marianne Jean-Baptiste as Annie); it doesn't seem to be available on DVD or streaming, but the trailer at least is true to the book. Which, I am happy to say, I finally bought.

Notes from the Test Kitchen

• The recipe calls for 4 tablespoons of buttermilk powder (look for it in a tin in the grocery store baking aisle, or order a bag from King Arthur Flour). If you don't have buttermilk powder, substitute one cup buttermilk for the water. And if you don't have buttermilk, use a scant cup of milk + one tablespoon fresh lemon juice (let sit for ten minutes first). Just don't let the buttermilk powder (or lack thereof) stop you from baking the cake.
• Use a bar or two of your favorite dark (bittersweet) chocolate rather than baking chocolate. We like Callebault.
• No need for frosting (although you certainly could). Try it with raspberries and whipped cream instead. It's nice for Valentine's Day, too, baked in a heart-shaped pan.

[Sadly, the hardcover copy I bought has an inane blurb embazoned on the cover ("This book is yummy!"). At least it looks sort of like the little owl is saying it.]

International Book Giving Day 2013

As far as I'm concerned, every day is a good day to give a book--but especially International Book Giving Day, which happily coincides with Valentine's Day (another of my favorite holidays). It's a day dedicated to getting books into the hands of as many children as possible, and it's easy to celebrate: just give a book, leave a book, or donate a book. I'm starting with my own two kids, who (it must be said) already get a lot of books. So, in the true spirit of International Book Giving Day, we're also donating books to the kids' classroom libraries as well as to the pediatric unit of Georgetown University Hospital, with thanks for taking such good care of Leo last year.

[The adorable International Book Giving Day logo was designed by Viviane Schwarz, whose There are cats in this book (Candlewick, 2008) is one of our very favorites. There are no cats in this book is lots of fun, too! And they would both make great gifts for kids ages two to five.]

The Fairy Ring

I'm preparing for an exhibition of manipulated photography (Faking It: Manipulated Photography before Photoshop, opening February 13 at the National Gallery) and thought that the famous Cottingley fairies might fit that description. As it turns out, those photographs were staged for the camera rather than manipulated after being taken--but I'm happy to have read The Fairy Ring, or Elsie and Frances Fool the World by Mary Losure (Candlewick, 2012) nonetheless. It's a lovely little book (note the period-appropriate font on the cover) that not only reveals how the fairy photographs were made, but puts them in context for those of us who find it hard to believe that anyone, let alone Arthur Conan Doyle, could have been fooled by them at all.

Middle Grade Gallery: Liar, Spy, and Seurat

Georges, the liar (or is he the spy?) of Rebecca Stead's Liar & Spy (Wendy Lamb, 2012), is named after the French artist Georges Seurat ("Here's a piece of advice you will probably never use: If you want to name your son after Georges Seurat, you could call him George, without the S. Just to make his life easier"). The first thing Georges's dad does when his family has to sell their house in Brooklyn and move to an apartment a couple of blocks away (still in Brooklyn; this is a very Brooklyn sort of book, actually) is hang a poster of Seurat's A Sunday on the Grand Jatte on the wall above the couch in the living room. Here's Georges's description of it:

Two summers ago we went to Chicago, where the real painting takes up one entire wall of the Art Institute. What you can't tell from the poster is that the picture is painted entirely with dots. Tiny little dots. Close up, they just look like blobs of paint. But if you stand back, you see that they make this whole nice park scene, with people walking around in old-fashioned clothes. There's even a monkey on a leash. Mom says that our Seurat poster reminds her to look at the big picture. Like when it hurts to think about selling the house, she tells herself how that bad feeling is just one dot in the giant Seurat painting of our lives. (11)

His mom's pointillism analogy informs Georges's (and his dad's) attitude towards the bad feelings--brought on by the move, his mom's absence, bullying at school--that come up in the first half of Liar and Spy, but eventually (on page 90 of 180--the exact midpoint the book) Georges comes to a realization of his own:

And then I think of all those thousands of dots Seurat used to paint the picture. I think about how if you stand back from the painting, you can see the people, the green grass and that cute monkey on a leash, but if you get closer, the monkey kind of dissolves right in front of your eyes, Like Mom says, life is a million different dots making one gigantic picture. And maybe the big picture is nice, maybe it's amazing, but if you're standing with your face pressed up against a bunch of black dots, it's really hard to tell. (90)

These two passages mirror each other: standing back, getting closer. In the second half of the book, Stead continues to explore the tension between the big picture and the dots or details, between what we see and what we think we see and what is really there; and the Seurat painting serves as a reference point for Georges and for the reader, as well as a source of inspiration in the final scenes (although Seurat didn't use a blue Sharpie). It's a masterful piece of work, for all that it's so understated. I'm still not sure I loved it, certainly not as much as Stead's Newbery Award-winning When You Reach Me (Wendy Lamb, 2009), but the more I read and think about it, the richer it reveals itself it be.

Caldecott Hopefuls: Rabbit's Snow Dance

A traditional Iroquois story retold by James and Joseph Bruchac and illustrated by Jeff Newman, Rabbit's Snow Dance (Dial, 2012) has a spot on the cover that seems ready-made for a Caldecott award sticker (one hopes): right there on Rabbit's drum. Newman's illustrations, rendered in watercolor, gouache, and ink, also have a sort of mid-century modern style that's maybe a little unexpected here (the PW review calls it "a welcome departure from the stodgier artwork that can often accompany myths and folk tales"): that's what I love about this one.

That and the Bruchacs' text [not among the Caldecott criteria, of course], which will have you and any little readers among you chanting "I will make it snow, AZIKANAPO!" right along with Rabbit: it's really a great read-aloud.

[For more on the story's sources, see this letter from Joe Bruchac at Debbie Reese's blog American Indians in Children's Literature; it will appear in subsequent printings. For more on Newman's illustrations, including storyboards, sketches, and finished art, see this post at 7-Imp (where else?). For more from me, I do think there is some inconsistency in the way Rabbit is depicted: sometimes more stylized, sometimes cartoonish, sometimes (as seen on the title page, and at right, falling from the tree) adorable. "AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEE!"]

Caldecott Hopefuls: This Moose Belongs to Me

My Caldecott Hopefuls are picture books I like a lot, for various and idiosyncratic reasons, and not necessarily ones I think will win the award (although one can hope). Here's what I love about This Moose Belongs to Me by Oliver Jeffers (Philomel, 2012): the contrast between the grandeur and solemnity of the landscape backgrounds (many of them reprinted from paintings by 20th century American artist Alexander Dzigurski) and, well, Wilfred and his moose (as seen in the image above, which wraps around the covers of the book). Now that I think of it, this style of illustration--Jeffers's artistic borrowing--is especially appropriate to a story about ownership (see Caldecott criteria 1.c). Does this moose belong to me?

According to the copyright page, "the art for this book was made from a mishmash of oil painting onto old linotype and painted landscapes, and a bit of technical wizardry thrown into the mix here and there." In case you want to try this at home (yes, you do), Oliver Jeffers has helpfully made a video called How to Draw a Moose. We didn't have any landscape paintings lying around, so we drew our moose (meese? mice?) onto pages ripped from old National Geographics instead. Kind of like this:

Except at Macchu Picchu.

Thank you, David Levithan

Last night I read Every Day by David Levithan (Knopf, 2012). It's the sort of book I want everyone I know to read, so I can talk about it without giving anything away. Starting with the premise: Every day A wakes up in a different body. Til then, here's Day 6009:

Today I'm a boy named AJ. He has diabetes, so I have a whole other layer of concerns on top of my usual ones. I've been diabetic a couple of times, and the first time was harrowing. Not because diabetes isn't controllable, but because I had to rely on the body's memories to tell me what to look out for, and how to manage it.... Now I feel I can handle it, but I am very attentive to what the body is telling me, much more so than I usually am. (166)

I've read many (many) books, but this is the first time I've spontaneously encountered a person with Type 1 diabetes in one: the prevalence appears to be lower than in the general population. Which is surprising, given that Type 1 is most often diagnosed in children and young adults. Case in point: my son Leo, who was diagnosed at age 11, a year ago this month.

Thankfully, I think Levithan gets it right. Diabetes adds another layer of concern to whatever else--a math test, a crush, a soccer game, lunch--might be happening on any given day. It demands a certain, constant level of attention to the body that most of us rarely require. It's the first thing A thinks about that morning.

But the rest of the day, as written, is not about diabetes. AJ is also a regular kid: "It's a relief, in many ways, to be a guy who doesn't mind riding the bus, who has friends waiting for him when he gets on, who doesn't have to deal with anything more troubling than the fact that he ate breakfast and is still hungry." He even eats french fries for lunch. Leo would love that. I did.

Mini Mock Caldecott

I'm thinking about holding a Mini Mock Caldecott for some of my daughter's third-grade friends at my house later this month. I know Milly would be interested (for my sake, if nothing else), but I'm not sure about anyone else. Maybe it will have to be a Micro-Mini Mock Caldecott?

If I do follow through on this (and writing about it here should help), I'll have to limit the number of books we look at together to about five. I'd like to have time for reading, discussion (of the Caldecott criteria and voting process as well as of the books themselves), and hands-on exploration of some artistic media. And, of course, voting! Here are the books I'm considering:

Green by Laura Vaccaro Seeger (Roaring Brook).

Homer by Elisha Cooper (Greenwillow).

Oh No! by Candace Fleming; illustrated by Eric Rohmann (Shwartz and Wade).

Step Gently Out by Helen Frost and Rick Lieder (Candlewick).

Unspoken by Henry Cole (Scholastic).

I chose these based in part on the variety of media: acrylic and oil pastel, watercolor, relief printing, photography, and pencil, respectively. But looking at my list, I wonder if it doesn't need a funny book, too--maybe Goldilocks and the Three Dinosaurs as retold by Mo Willems (Balzer + Bray)?

It would be lovely if at least one of the books we look at were to be recognized by the actual Caldecott committee: being shut out entirely is one of the risks of limiting the list to only 5, although it could happen with a list of 20. Maybe we should meet again after the winner is announced on January 28--assuming we meet in the first place!

Cybils Reading Challenge

Every year I try to read at least one new book from each of the Cybils shortlists (with the exception of middle grade science fiction and fantasy, since I've read all of those). It's a great way to stretch as a reader, especially for those of us who tend to read and review the same sorts of things the rest of the year. Here's my reading list, in order by category:

Book apps. Ack! I don't own a book app-compatible device, but if I did, I would choose Dragon Brush or The Voyage of Ulysses.

Easy Readers/Short Chapter Books. I've read all but one of the short chapter books: Violet Mackerel's Brilliant Plot by Anna Bradford (Atheneum). 

Middle Grade Science Fiction and Fantasy. Our panel's list! I wrote the blurb for the delightful Cabinet of Earths by Anne Nesbet (Harper) and will definitely have more to say about it here.

Young Adult Science Fiction and Fantasy. David Levithan's Every Day (Knopf) was already on my hold list. I might have to reread Seraphina by Rachel Hartman (Random House), too--it's one of my favorites.

Fiction Picture Books. Infinity and Me by Kate Hosford; illustrated by Gabi Swiatkowska (Carolrhoda).

Graphic Novels. Historically, this has not been my favorite category, but I found lots to love on the Elementary/Middle Grade shortlist. I'm going with Giants Beware! by Jorge Aguirre and Rafael Rosado (First Second). It was nominated by Charlotte, so I'm sure to like it.

Middle Grade Fiction. On the other hand, this category's shortlist was less appealling (to me personally; someone else might love every one of these books). I chose Almost Home by Joan Bauer (Viking) from among the finalists I haven't read, mostly because of the puppy on the cover. Unless giving Liar and Spy by Rebecca Stead (Wendy Lamb) a more careful read counts?

Nonfiction for Tweens and Teens. Last Airlift: A Vietnamese Orphan's Rescue from the War by Marsha Skrypuch (Pajama Press).

Nonfiction Picture Books. Looking at Lincoln by Maira Kalman (Nancy Paulsen). I like Kalman's work, and that is a gorgeous cover.

Poetry. National Geographic Book of Animal Poetry: 200 Poems with Photographs That Squeak, Soar, and Roar! compiled by J. Patrick Lewis (National Geographic Children's Books). This one is already on my shelf; I checked it out for Milly, my resident animal-lover.

Young Adult (whew). The Storyteller by Antonia Michaelis (Amulet). Translated from the German.

There are a couple more categories than there were back when I started the Cybils Reading Challenge, but reading even one new book from a different category is worth doing, I think. This time I'm hoping to get to all of them.

Happy Cybils Day!

Cybils Day? That's January 1, when shortlists in all eleven (eleven!) award categories are announced. And even though I had a hand in making the middle grade science fiction and fantasy shortlist (as one of seven fantastic first round panelists this year), it's not official until I see it on the Cybils website New Year's morning. Now you can see it here, too!

Beswitched by Kate Saunders
Geeks, Girls, and Secret Identities by Mike Jung
The Cabinet of Earths by Anne Nesbet
The False Prince by Jennifer A. Nielsen
The Last Dragonslayer by Jasper Fforde
The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate
The Peculiar by Stefan Bachmann

There are actually two Cybils Days (sort of like the Queen's birthdays). The next is February 14, when the award winners are announced. I have no idea what will win in our category, although I do have a favorite from our list. What's yours?

Olive and other Halloween book+costume ideas from Penguin

Welcome to Penguin's Halloween blog tour, which pairs spooky middle grade books with great costume ideas! I love the idea of dressing up as a character from a book, and I know lots of families and schools choose to celebrate Halloween this way, too. Today's (seventh and final) tour stop features the first book of one of my favorite middle grade series (my review), plus a fantastic giveaway! Here's Penguin with the details:

Step into some creepy stories this Halloween and become your favorite middle grade character…from the ghoulish undead to mischievous pirates, the costumes are endless.

The Book: Books of Elsewhere: The Shadows by Jacqueline West

When eleven-year-old Olive moves into a crumbling Victorian mansion with her parents, she knows there's something strange about the house - especially the odd antique paintings covering the walls. And when she puts on a pair of old spectacles, she discovers the strangest thing yet: She can travel inside the paintings, to a spooky world that's full of dark shadows. Add to that three talking cats, who live in the house and seem to be keeping secrets of their own, and Olive soon finds herself confronting a dark and dangerous power that wants to get rid of her by any means necessary. It's up to Olive to save the house from the dark shadows, before the lights go out for good.

The Costume

Halloween is the perfect time to be Olive and travel through paintings and beyond! This costume is great for a school-day costume:

1. Olive wears a red striped shirt over a long-sleeved white shirt, jeans, and red shoes. Don’t forget her yellow headband!
2. Find the oldest, biggest glasses you can find. A grandparent might be able to help with this one!
3. Now comes the fun part! Find a big piece of cardboard and cut out the shape of a BIG picture frame. Make the edges curvy and decorate with markers and paint. 
4. You’re ready to be Olive! Carry around your new picture frame and wear your glasses for quick escape – but keep an eye out! There are people who might want to make sure your Halloween is full of more tricks than treats….

Find The Books of Elsewhere online at thebooksofelsewhere.com

Purchase The Books of Elsewhere here: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, IndieBound 

And check out the rest of the blog tour for more great book+costume ideas:

M 10.22 In a Glass Grimmly by Adam Gidwitz

at MundieKids

T 10.23 Gustav Gloom and the People Takers by Adam-Troy Castro

at Green Bean Teen Queen

W 10.24 Undead Ed by Rotterly Ghoulstone

at Charlotte’s Library

Th 10.25 Deadweather and Sunrise:Chronicles of Egg by Geoff Rodkey

at Shelf Elf

F 10.26 The Creature from the 7th Grade by Bob Balaban

at Bookalicious

M 10.29 Wereworld: Shadow of the Hawk by Curtis Jobling

at Book Chic

T 10.30 Books of Elsewhere:The Shadows by Jacqueline West

right here at Books Together

 

[Me again.] And now for the giveaway! Courtesy of Penguin, I'm giving away a set of all seven books featured on the blog tour to one lucky reader (and commenter) on this post. Just leave a comment by midnight Friday, November 2 to enter [deadline extended due to Hurricane Sandy!]. If you'd like, let me know who you're going to be for Halloween, too. Olive, perhaps?

2012 National Hispanic Heritage Month Roundup

Welcome to the second annual roundup of children's and young adult book reviews, interviews, and more celebrating National Hispanic Heritage Month. This year's roundup focuses on lists and awards, in hopes of raising awareness of great books by Latin American authors and illustrators--and making it easier for interested readers to find them.

Lee and Low Books is celebrating National Hispanic Heritage Month by highlighting some of their many wonderful titles written and illustrated by Latino/a authors and illustrators, including favorite picture books by Pat Mora and Carmen Lomas Garza.

Tu Books, an imprint of Lee and Low, publishes science fiction, fantasy, and mystery books for kids that feature diverse characters and settings. I'm especially excited about Summer of the Mariposas by Guadalupe Garcia McCall, which is described as "a magical Mexican American retelling of The Odyssey." You can read the first three chapters here.

This is also a good time of year to start thinking about the Pura Belpre Award, which is presented by ALSC and REFORMA and "recognizes excellence in the areas of literary merit and outstanding illustration in books for children and young adults by authors and illustrators who identify themselves as Latino." The Heartland chapter of REFORMA runs a mock Pura Belpre every year; they haven't put up the list of titles under consideration for the 2013 awards yet, but past years' mock Belpre lists are a great source of titles.

Another useful list comes from the UNM Institute of Latin American and Iberian Studies: its monthly, teacher-oriented book group Vamos a Leer reads and discusses children's literature related to Latin America, with an emphasis on the K-12 classroom. Check out their blog, Vamos a Leer: Teaching Latin America and Literacy, where you'll also find (among other great resources) the Latin American YA Bookshelf.

The 2012 Americas Award for Children's and Young Adult Literature, for work that "authentically and engagingly portray[s] Latin America, the Caribbean or Latinos in the United States," is being presented to Monica Brown and Julie Paschkis for Pablo Neruda: Poet of the People (Henry Holt and Company, 2011) and to Margarita Engle for Hurricane Dancers: The First Caribbean Pirate Shipwreck (also Henry Holt, 2001), this Friday, October 5, at the Library of Congress. Congratulations to Monica (interviewed today by Latina author Meg Medina) and Margarita!

And thank you for reading. If you'd like to contribute to the roundup, please leave a comment with your links or recommendations. ¡Gracias a todos!

Movie Night: Miss Minoes

Milly and I would like to recommend for your viewing pleasure Miss Minoes (2001), a Dutch film based on the children's book Minoes by Annie M.G. Schmidt (published in the United States as Minnie; Milkweed Editions, 1994). I love the premise--a cat turns into a young woman, instead of the other way around as so often happens in fantasy books. And I love Miss Minoes's green fur-lined coat.

But back to the premise. It's a fun one for cat-lovers in particular, as Miss Minoes retains a lot of her feline qualities: she climbs trees, rubs noses, hides under the table, sleeps in a box. She purrs even! There's a plot, too (it involves a shy newspaper reporter), but it's the cat-as-young-woman part that makes me want to track down the book, which is bound to be better than the movie. And to ask about other children's books featuring animals that turn into people (not just anthropomorphic animals, which are a dime a dozen). I know there must be lots.

Cybils Season

The Cybils are the Children's and Young Adult Bloggers' Literary Awards, and this is the fourth year I'll be a first-round panelist in the Middle Grade Fantasy and Science Fiction category. I love being a panelist: our job is to read widely from among the nominated books and, after lots of discussion, come up with a shortlist (that's last year's) of five to seven titles that combine literary merit and kid appeal. Congratulations to this year's Cybils panelists and judges across all categories, but especially those in mg sff: I"m looking forward to a fantastic fall!

Nominations for the Cybils don't open October 1, but I've already started ramping up my reading--with well over 100 mg sff titles nominated each year, it's the only way to come close to reading them all. I have some favorites, and some fall books I'm eagerly anticipating; for now, I'm keeping track of my reading on Goodreads (please look for me over there).

I'll continue posting about all sorts of books here, though!

Celebrating National Hispanic Heritage Month

September 15 to October 15 is National Hispanic Heritage Month, when the Library of Congress officially recognizes the "histories, cultures and contributions of American citizens whose ancestors came from Spain, Mexico, the Caribbean and Central and South America." The dates are a little awkward: most of us know that February is African-American History Month, and May is Asian-Pacific American Heritage Month, but Hispanic Heritage Month is half-September and half-October. Maybe it's a metaphor?

Anyway, I'll be celebrating National Hispanic Heritage Month(s) here with reviews of children's books by authors and illustrators whose ancestors came from Spain, Mexico, the Caribbean and Central and South America (see above). One book I'm especially looking forward to writing about in this context is Marisol McDonald Doesn't Match/Marisol McDonald no combina by Monica Brown (illustrated by Sara Palacios; Children's Book Press, 2011). Marisol is actually Peruvian-Scottish-American, mismatched and marvelous.

Just like last year, I'll also be hosting a National Hispanic Heritage Month roundup of reviews, author interviews and more on October 3. I'd love to get lots of participation, so please send me your links or leave them in a comment on this post or on the roundup post in October. Recommendations and requests are also most welcome. ¡Muchas gracias!

Princess Academy of Art

Anticipating the August release of Princess Academy: Palace of Stone by Shannon Hale (Bloomsbury, 2012), I recently read the first Princess Academy, a 2006 Newbery Honor book. I wonder why I hadn't read it before, because it's just the sort of book I like, and probably would have loved as a ten-year-old girl: it has a classic feel and an ordinary-girl heroine in Miri Larendaughter, it's set in a village on a snowy mountaintop--beautifully evoked throughout the book as well as on the original cover, shown here--and there's a boarding school. Where you have to study to be a princess. After learning to read (no one in Mount Eskel knew how before the princess academy), the girls study Danlander History, Commerce, Geography, and Kings and Queens. And then there are the "princess-forming" subjects: Diplomacy (which proves useful on more than occasion), Conversation, and Poise. I want to go to princess academy!

I also want to add Princess Academy to the Middle Grade Gallery (where I think about how paintings work in fiction), even though Art isn't one of the subjects the girls have to study. But one winter morning, their tutor Olana shows the girls a painting; like the silver princess dress they've already seen, it's meant to make them work harder at their studies, to remind them of their goal:

Olana removed the cloth and held up a colorful painting much more detailed than the chapel's carved doors. It illustrated a house with a carved wooden door, six glass windows facing front, and a garden of tall trees and bushes bursting with red and yellow flowers.
"This house stands in Asland, the capital, not a long carriage ride from the palace...It will be given to the family of the girl chosen as princess." [87]

And the painting does its job: Miri, for one, spends hours imagining her family inside the house and garden, so different from their mountain home.

At the end of the book, Olana reveals the truth about the painting, and gives it to Miri. Spoiler alert (after seven years, I don't think I'm spoiling anything, but just in case): the house never existed. And Miri doesn't marry the prince (although she is academy princess). It's not until Palace of Stone that she goes to the capital at all. I wonder if she will remember the painting when she gets there?

The Fantastic Jungles of Henri Rousseau

Henri Rousseau was a toll collector for the city of Paris when, at the age of 40, he decided to become an artist--a famous artist. Michelle Markel's picture book biography The Fantastic Jungles of Henri Rousseau (illustrated by Amanda Hall; Eerdmans, 2012) begins with that surprising decision. Her precise and poignant text balances Rousseau's love of nature and growing confidence in his own work (he was self-taught) with his lifelong desire for critical recognition.

Poor Henri! No sooner does he paint something we might consider a masterpiece(The Sleeping Gypsy, The Hungry Lion Throws Itself on the Antelope, and The Dream are referenced in the text or in Hall's illustrations) than the experts say mean things about it: "They say it looks like he closed his eyes and painted with his feet."

But Rousseau keeps painting. Eventually, near the end of his life, younger, more well-known artists befriend him. One of them, Pablo Picasso, even throws a banquet in his honor (that's Picasso with Fernande Olivier on the right; a key at the back of the book identifies the other historical figures in the illustration below).

At last, and over one hundred years later, Rousseau's paintings hang in museums around the world. [There are three on view at the National Gallery; I'm excited to see them after having read the book.]

Amanda Hall's illustrations, rendered in watercolor and acrylics, really capture the feel of Rousseau's work, from the lush foliage and flowers to the faces of people and animals. In an illustrator's note (there's also an author's note, but sadly no sources), Hall writes that she "decided to break the rules of scale and perspective to reflect [Rousseau's] unusual way of seeing the world. For some of the illustrations, I drew directly on his actual paintings, altering them playfully to help tell the story." My favorite example is this image of a tiger literally crawling out of the canvas as Henri paints:

The understated text reads, "Sometimes Henri is so startled by what he paints that he has to open the window to let in some air."

Aside: Kids might be interested to know that the jungle in the computer-animated movie Madagascar was inspired by Rousseau's work. My own kids were also interested to know that I had a cheap print of Sleeping Gypsy in my college dorm room.

It's still my favorite Rousseau.