Wednesday 19 December 2012

A review of "Just Right" written by Birdie Black and illustrated by Rosalind Beardshaw

Hey there, Folks in the Smoke,

   I'm so very sorry for this tardy post - life has been a bit hectic lately and posting wasn't possible. But I hope this Christmas review will compensate somewhat.

   "Just Right", also published as "Just Right for Christmas", is a simple and enchanting tale full of festive flavour and snowy scenes.


   It's Christmas Eve in a snow-laden kingdom. We follow the route of a piece of red cloth and learn of the uses it and it's subsequent off-cuts are put to - the initial bolt is used to make a cloak for a princess. The scraps are placed by the back door and taken by a kitchen-maid, she then makes a gift for her mother. The same process is repeated with each set of scraps being perfect from which to fashion a smaller gift for a smaller creature until the very final gift of a scarf for a tiny mouse. Each gift is sewn with love and given with tenderness. The reveal spread, on which we see each recipient opening and adoring their present, is gorgeous and sweet. 

    Black's story is tender and warm, it feels like a traditional tale with a perfectly pitched array of characters and an elegant thread binding them together. The text has a beautiful cadence, and I love the repetition of "snipped and sewed, sewed and snipped" as each character creates their own gift from the red cloth.The closing sentiment of each gift being "just right", and that is "just how Christmas should feel", is sure to warm even the chilliest heart. 

   Beardshaw's illustrations are poised and cosy - her people are rosy-cheeked and her animals are exquisitely furry and very energetic. The colour palette of the brown of the forest, the red of the gifts and the white of the snow makes you feel chilly and comforted simultaneously. 

   I'd recommend this as a charming addition to the yuletide reading list - it's heartfelt and delightful. 

   Thanks for reading, and a very Merry Christmas (or general holiday season) to you and yours,
                Lisa 

Friday 16 November 2012

A review of "A World Between Us" by Lydia Syson


Hello People in the Ether,

   This debut by Lydia Syson is a thrilling, romantic, powerful and heartfelt description of war and love.


   It's 1936 and Felix (short for Felicity) is a trainee nurse in the East End of London. She has all but escaped her claustrophobic, suburban background - apart from visits to a quiet mother, a judgemental brother and a sweet (but apparently dull) brother's best friend, George. In a dramatic opening we find her trapped in Whitechapel during a famous anti-fascist demonstration - where she meets an activist, Nat.


   A tender courtship doesn't have much time to develop before Nat leaves to join the International Brigades in Spain against Franco's forces. At the prospect of being apart from Nat and wanting to avoid a proposal from George, Felix decides to flee to Spain too and there she volunteers as a battlefield nurse. Newspaper man, George, follows Felix in the hope of returning her safely to her family but he soon realises the merit of the anti-fascist struggle and enlists as a mechanic in the Brigades. So, a complicated and intense love triangle plays out against the backdrop of the battles and horrors of the Spanish Civil War - we follow each of our trio through the drama.

   The plot is cleverly constructed; full of vivid set-pieces, political intrigue, questioned loyalties, exciting twists and bracing battle scenes. The romance, its thrills and pains, is very convincingly depicted and you do feel genuinely swept along with the pent-up passions and the world-falling-apart atmosphere. 

   Syson's style is subtle and gorgeous, she melts you into another time and place. The text is crystalline, by turns simple and poetic. Her pacing is really great, I found it compelling reading. She draws sharp, confused, flawed characters that you feel for, and occasionally feel frustrated with. George and Nat are honourable, steadfast, true matinee idols while Felix is honest, idealistic,naive and brave. I found the romance tender and exciting, and the battlefield medicine passages were visceral. 

   I think this is a nigh-perfect YA read, its engaging, pulsing, beautifully written and doesn't shy away from complicated facts and tough history. Equally highly recommended for early teens interested in history and politics or those wanting an intense love story without any supernatural hook.

    Thanks for reading,

       LJ




Wednesday 24 October 2012

A review of "Hubble Bubble, Granny Trouble" written by Tracey Corderoy and illustrated by Joe Berger


Hi Folks in the Smoke,

   As Halloween fast approaches I think a spooky offering might be in order. This is a fun, rhyming story from the talented Tracey Corderoy teamed with lush, retro illustrations by Joe Berger. It was published last Autumn and there is a new installment "Whizz, Pop, Granny, Stop!" out now, but I thought I'd opt for the original today.



    The eponymous Granny causes trouble because she isn't a typical Granny - she isn't sweet and simple, she doesn't have a purple rinse or WI friends. She has unusual pets and strange habits and uses mischievous magic to make life easier and more fun. While this might sound great, her granddaughter finds it disconcerting. She'd prefer a normal life, a normal grandmother. So, she launches a Granny make-over, which seems to go well but it isn't long before the little girl realises that she misses her grandmother's eccentric ways and that Granny is now blue.

    Corderoy's story is clever and rich, fun and funny. I love the Granny, she's classy and sophisticated, an individual - not your typical witch. The rhymes are great, strong and joyous, they trip off the tongue and always propel the narrative instead of just ticking boxes.

    Berger's artwork is a delight. The colour palette is fabulous - very reminiscent of how I remember "Bewitched" or "I Dream of Jeannie" - smudgy greys and charcoals, moody blues and greens and sorbet pinks and purples. I adored the little details; watch out for the movie named on the cinema marquee.

   This is a great, warm story with infectious cadence and scintillating illustrations - I'd recommend it as an atmospheric read for Halloween but also as a subtle tale on identity and individuality. And  "Whizz, Pop, Granny, Stop!" is just as entertaining.

     Thanks for reading,
           LJ

Monday 22 October 2012

A review of "Zac and Zeb and the Make-Believe Birthday Party" by Sarah Massini

Hi People in the Ether,

      Zac is a spotty dog and Zeb is a stripy zebra, and they are best friends. This, their first adventure, opens with Zac's birthday celebrations. When all the fun is over we learn that Zeb isn't the most patient creature and he wants his birthday right now. Zac tells him that it's next. Unfortunately, the little zebra takes this to mean tomorrow and is heartbroken when guests and gifts fail to arrive the next day. Instead, Zac rushes to the rescue and suggests a make-believe birthday party, complete with imagined gifts, an exciting journey and a scrummy picnic - on the Moon.


   The story trots along with nicely-pitched text, making use of great active words, and the use of glum as a verb made me grin! The font is very fluid, it zips around the illustrations and changes size for emphasis where needed - but it's never over-played.




   We meet our duo on a great introductory page, before the title page even. It's a nice touch and let's us know who and what they are and that they are each  "a good kind of best friend". This serves to save time, we can delve right into the story, and will be useful in their future outings, I'm sure - readers will be able to start reading at any book, not needing any more back story than this. Massini has created two really lively and loveable characters and gives us a strong sense of their personalities and the dynamic between them.

   The black and white of Zac and Zab contrasts zingily with the vibrant surroundings and supporting characters. The spreads, other than those in outer space, are crisp and white allowing the vivid shades to pop beautifully. The make-believe space backgrounds are rightly dreamy and I really appreciated the pair's cute flag which they plant on the Moon - with spots and stripes to match their own markings.


   I very much enjoyed this and I think, much like Zeb at the end of the tale, we've more fun and games to come.

   Thanks for reading,
        LJ

Friday 14 September 2012

A review of "Ketchup Clouds" by Annabel Pitcher

Hi Folks in the Smoke,

    I've been lucky enough to get a sneaky, advance copy of Annabel Pitcher's upcoming novel "Ketchup Clouds". I adored her sparkling debut "My Sister Lives on the Mantlepiece" and was waiting with bated breath for this. So, with excitement just-about-contained, I thought I'd share it
with you.



    Where "My Sister…" followed 10-year-old  Jamie, "Ketchup Clouds" is an older affair. Our narrator this time out is a 15-year-old girl who is suffocating with guilt and grief. She gives herself the pseudonym "Zoe".

    The tale is beautifully wrought and I don't want to spoil any of the dramatic twists, so I'll stay sparse on plots details. Suffice to say Zoe has two younger sisters, a pair of stressed parents, a loyal and charismatic best friend, as well as studies to attend to and various social trials and tribulations to endure. But there are also two boys around whom most of the action revolves.

      Pitcher has Zoe pour her heart out through letters that she writes to an American death row prisoner, Stuart. It's meant to be a charitable act but becomes a confessional for Zoe, a way for her to divulge and eventually understand what's happened in the past year - she is a searingly honest narrator. This device is very powerful as it contrasts crime and guilt, conscience and prison. While we never read Stuart's replies we do see Zoe soften and become more comfortable and confiding as the forms of address and the sign offs evolve through the novel.

     I did weep when I finished "My Sister" and so there was a level of expectation that Pitcher might put me through the ringer again. She does, but in a different, teenaged way and so I was left with a sense of heartache rather than being convulsed in tears - but that's a great thing; she's a skilled, sophisticated crafter of story, not just a heartstring-tugger. And she's a more accomplished, confident writer this time out - she tells us things at her own pace, teasing us and reflecting the anxious nature of Zoe. While the reveal isn't a complete shock, that might merely be a reward for attentive reading.

    Pitcher's style is emotionally eloquent, weaving a story of teen uncertainty, of loss and of feeling lost, with tenderness and attitude, warmth and wit. Zoe is very real, you can hear her drafting her letters, see her crouched over the page in the dead of night, feel her conflicting emotions. She is a sincere, knowing and endearing character.
  
   I'd recommend this for fans of Pitcher but also for anyone who has enjoyed the likes of "Solace of the Road", "What I Was" and "The Sky is Everywhere". Hers is a powerful new voice with versatility and passion, and most importantly a talent for telling original stories.

   Thanks for reading,
          LJ

Monday 10 September 2012

A review of "Cloud Tea Monkeys", written by Mal Peet and Elspeth Graham and illustrated by Juan Wijngaard


Hi there People in the Ether,

   Sorry for the silence; summer and various events got in the way lately.

   This is a sincere and serene tale inspired by legends from the Himalayas.


   Peet and Graham set their tale among the lady tea pickers on an Indian tea plantation - they live and work in the lower reaches of the mountains, gazing at the mystical clouds that hang over the upper peaks.

   A little girl, Tashi, accompanies her mother to work each day and steals away to be with a troupe of monkeys. When her mother becomes ill, Tashi thinks she will pick tea so that the doctor's bills can be paid. But the basket is bigger than she is, and the overseer is mean. Tashi seeks refuge with her simian friends, and while she weeps, they take the basket and disappear beyond the cloud into the upper reaches of the mountains. They return with a basket full of beautiful, unusual tea leaves. The imperious but gentle Royal Tea Taster happens by the plantation and is impressed with Tashi's haul - he knows the harvesters were monkeys and he knows the leaves are cloud tea, a very rare treasure. Thasi's miracle has arrived.

   The story is conjured in a beautiful, gentle, bewitchingly traditional tone - it's like a classical fairy tale or A Thousand and One Nights episode. Tashi is sweet and brave, and her monkey companions are full of character but never anthropomorphised. The writers have chosen tender phrases and descriptions of colours that are very evocative of the landscape and Imperial era.

   The illustrations are very vibrant, rich and enchanting. Wijngaard uses both oil artwork and line drawings to bring the plantation, the women and the animals to life in glorious rubies, emeralds and sapphires. I especially love the pencil sketches of the Tea Taster's various faces as he samples the cloud tea - looking "like a man who'd seen an angel".
   It's a pleasing package too - the designer has employed a very traditional page layout throughout with text and plate-like illustrations complimenting the traditional style of the story. The cover is moody and beautiful, and the paper is a lovely weight and a milky shade.

   So, ultimately, this is a longer, layered story, full of detailed descriptions and sophisticated turns of phrase, and would probably speak more to readers of six years and older.

   Thanks for reading,
          LJ

Thursday 2 August 2012

A review of "Farmer Clegg's Night Out" written by Peter Bently and illustrated by Jim Field


Hi Folks in the Smoke,
   Bently and Field's new offering is giggly and fun, but it's no Cats Ahoy - more's the pity.


   Famer Clegg wearily retires for the evening, but in his barn the animals are gathering for a rustic talent show, the "Tractor Factor". There are some wonderful acts, a break-dancing equine, a body-popping bovine and a group of serenading porcines. There are twin sheep, reminiscent of recent TV show fan favouites, and a cranky judge on the panel, to boot. But the surprising finale features a sleep-dancing Clegg who steals the show.

   Bently's turn of phrase and twist of rhyme are as lovely as ever. But this tale lacks the joyous surprise conclusion of earlier hits, I'm afraid. I did love the Honky Tonk Geese, though, they reminded me of the flock on my garndparents' farm.

   Field's illustrations are detailed and brimming with character. The animals are wonderful and the hidden jokes are fun to spot, in particular the bashful ugly duckling and the ingenious auditorium snacks of grass-in-bags.

   While "Farmer Cleggs's Night Out" is an enjoyable story, I'm slightly worried it might not have the longevity of previous Bently stories as it's talent show references might date it quickly.

   Thanks for reading,
          LJ



Wednesday 25 July 2012

A review of "The Hueys in The New Jumper" by Oliver Jeffers

Hey there, People in the Ether,

   Oliver Jeffers' latest irresistible and witty creation is about a breed of creatures called the Hueys.

   In a world of Hueys, where every Huey looks, thinks and acts the same, one Huey called Rupert decides he wants to proclaim his individuality, he wants to be different from the crowd. He knits himself a rather fetching orange, zig-zaggy jumper and, though this freakish behaviour is initially frowned-upon, the other Hueys soon catch on. First up, Rupert's best friend  who "thought being different was interesting". Soon all the Hueys have, like sheep, followed the trend and are all sporting the orange woolly jumpers. Now that everybody is different, they are all the same again. But, luckily Rupert has a snazzy accessory with which to rectify the frustrating situation.

   Jeffers' artwork is sparse, mostly simple line drawings with bursts of colour for the orange jumpers. There are occasional pages drenched in background colour and they lift the sequence nicely. The Hueys are bean-like creatures with few features but plenty of little muttered statements, thought bubbles and furrowed brows to indicate emotion. They have strange hands and naturally, for Jeffers, no feet though they do possess excellently scribbled shadows. And, as ever, the hand lettering of the text is warm and charismatic.

   I do adore Jeffers, his quirky illustrations and witty, charming stories. And though this is a simpler, sparser story it is still engaging and enjoyable. The Hueys were inspired by the fact that Jeffers' grandfather, who is grandfather and great-grandfather to many, terms each of his gaggle of grandchildren and great-grandchildren "Huey".

   Personally, I found added pleasure in this story because Rupert's best friend is called Gillespie, which just happens to be my surname! So, when I turned to that spread for the first time, the discovery made me squeal - and my squeal, as my boyfriend can attest, is super loud and super pitchy. It made my day. And I agree with my name sake, in picture books as in life, being different is most definitely interesting.

     Thanks for reading,
           LJ

Wednesday 27 June 2012

A review of "Goldilocks and Just the One Bear" by Leigh Hodgkinson

Hi Folks in the Smoke,

   Leigh Hodgkinson reunites the domestic terrorist Goldilocks and the sweet, innocent Baby Bear-as-was in this role reversal story. 

 

   He has grown up and is now an independent loner, he's "Just the One Bear". He gets a little muddled, though, and loses his way. Bear wanders from his woodland home to a bustling, fairytale version of New York - replete with signs announcing the likes of the "Fairy Godmother Theatre" and "Princess Avenue".

   In his dizziness, he seeks shelter in an ivory tower, wheeling through the foyer and up many floors until he finds himself in a luxurious apartment. His search for porridge is in vain, the chairs are bizarre and the beds are far from ideal. Until he settles on a cozy one that's just a tad too small.

   From his deep, dreamy slumber, Bear becomes aware that a mummy type person, a daddy type person and a little person have returned to the home and they are aghast at the havoc the uninvited guest has wrecked.

   When they discover him under the duvet, however, home-owner rage melts into recognition as the mummy person and the Bear stare into each others' eyes and remember their last encounter - when Goldilocks was the interloper and the Bear family was the injured party. This reunion leads to a pleasant evening of porridge and bonding before Bear, now equipped with a map and NYC souvenirs, ventures home.

   The story is charming - quite a simple idea, beautifully executed. The language is vibrant and lovingly phrased. And the font choices compliment the emotion and action wonderfully. The characters are perfect, really well imagined and stylishly depicted.

   Hodgkinson's cut-out multimedia artwork is full of spark, texture and delicious colours. The world is a wonderful mix of chic metropolitan sketches and warm characters . Her background in animation lends these illustrations a great stop-motion quality - it all feels very alive, as if everything is just about to move and we've captured the perfect moment in each scene.

   This is a fun and wry exploration of old acquaintances and of karma. And it might encourage little readers to imagine what their favourite characters do after a story finishes and a book closes - great stuff.

   Thanks for reading,
       LJ

Friday 22 June 2012

A review of "The Secret Hen House Theatre" by Helen Peters

Hey there, People in the Ether,

   This debut novel is based on the author's childhood experiences of farm life and amateur theatre.

   Hannah longs to be a playwright, a director, an actress. It's a way to feel connected to her deceased mother and to escape the sadness of her father, the mayhem of a ramshackle farmyard, three taxing siblings, many animals and some annoying school mates. Her partner in thespianism is best friend Lottie. Together they write a play, design costumes and build a clandestine theatre in a long forgotten hen house. They recruit the eccentric sisters and brother and overcome disasters, peer problems and parental disapproval to stage the play as part of a local arts festival.

    Meanwhile, the dilapidated but charming farm is under threat as rents sky rocket, funds evaporate and catastrophe strikes. Hannah hatches many plans to help her father and preserve the farm. Will any of them succeed?


 

   This is a heartwarming story told lovingly and with great conviction. Hannah is a charming protagonist, a bit egotistical, flawed and confused, she is a believable pre-teen. I enjoyed how Peters drew the other kids and adults, they are three dimensional - especially Hannah's father who is trapped by his grief, money worries and prone to swearing (though we never read any of his choice vocabulary). The farmyard is effectively evoked. The theatre theme never turns too lovey nor does the DIY become too Swallows-and-Amazons-y. Everything is very nice and neat and tidy by the close but that is forgivable because of the pleasant read and the fact that there are some choice scenes of pre-teen drama and mild violence thrown in for good measure.

    I very much enjoyed this novel, though it is at the young and innocent end of the YA market. It wears that youth and innocence lightly. I look forward Helen Peters' future work.

     Thanks for reading,
           LJ

A review of "FArTHER" by Grahame Baker-Smith

Hello Folks in the Smoke,

   "FArTHER" is a beautiful, mesmerising book with an aching story. It won the Kate Greenaway medal last year for its inventive, dreamlike illustrations.

   Baker-Smith digitally creates worlds of reach-out-and-touch quality; they are magical, dimensional and stirring. The story itself is timeless, we're not sure when it's set but it doesn't really matter. It's haunted by ancient ideals, renaissance invention and the spectre of warfare. It's a rewiring of Daedalus and Icarus.


   The boy of the story is bewildered by his father's fascination with flight. It's his father's obsession to reach further but it means that he is removed from his son, farther away from him even though he is always nearby. He slaves away like a Wright brother, building beautiful but flawed flying contraptions. Occasionally he remembers his son and they have special days, lovely adventures, but they end all too soon when the obsession returns. The boy seems confused by this and aches for his father's company and attention.

   Before achieving his dream, the boy's father is called away to war. He leaves their clifftop home, passing along a lane of poppies, dressed in a WWI era uniform. The father never returns but instead he and his dream haunt the boy. When the boy grows to young manhood he takes on his father's ventures and he succeeds, soaring high above their home. It's not clear whether he does this as a homage to his father or whether he is equally bewitched by the challenge. He then becomes a father himself and wonders what will ensnare his son.

   Baker-Smith's art manages to be both detailed and panoramic in the same breath. The blend of textures and colours is powerful and evocative, especially so when the weather is showcased and pathetic fallacy is at play. The characters are gleamingly moon-faced, godlike creatures and the inventions are rendered with such dexterity and realism that you want to grasp them. The house and cliff top setting are cinematic. I loved the detail-laden spreads, especially when the teenaged boy undertakes the mission; while text simply reads "I took up the old wings, made a few simple adjustments" in the image we see the contrast in characters so clearly. This is a much more organised workbench, the boy is a different man than his father though he pursues the same dream. Its subtle and all the stronger for its subtly. 

   Ultimately, this is a father and son story (the mother and wife only appear occasionally). It's about how preoccupation pulls us out of moments, out of relationships. It's an examination of how fathers and sons relate to each other, and perhaps is of the opinion that sons only understand their fathers when they themselves have sons. It is about frustrated dreams, the loss of and grieving for a loved one, the torturous emotions of being a parent's child and being a child's parent.

   So, while the artwork is captivating and glorious with ready appeal for tiny, inquisitive eyes, I think the story is more for the adult reader - but that's the hallmark of a damn good picture book, it works on different levels. 

   Thank for reading,
         LJ 

Thursday 14 June 2012

A review of "Itch" by Simon Mayo

Hey Folks in the Smoke,

   "Itch" is an impressive debut, realised with an easy style, populated by intriguing characters and propelled by a combustible plot.


   I am ever-wary of novels penned by celebrities. But I couldn't resist giving this the benefit of the doubt, mainly because I've a soft spot for geek chic.

   "Itch" tells the story of the perilous fortune that befalls Itchingham Loft, a budding element hunter, when he acquires some unidentified rocks. He's trying to collect samples of each of the elements on the Periodic Table but gets much more than he bargains for when he purchases these from his dealer - an as-yet-undiscovered and highly radioactive element, one that any number of nefarious adults would love to possess. There then ensues a rollicking tale of danger, intrigue, business tyrants, scientific sell-outs, noble researchers, violence, radiation poisoning, international terrorists, many explosions and teenage heroics.

   It's lively, fun, witty, clever and absorbing. The science is solid but never laid on too thickly, it's pitched perfectly. Mayo doesn't pander to his young audience, he drops hints, he leaves things unexplained in the hope that if their paying attention and suitably interested they'll find more out. His vocab is nicely diverse and suitably challenging when the situation calls for it. He weaves an interesting family dynamic, and I really loved that 14 year old Itch's companion and best friend is his female cousin, Jack. No rude boys or girly girls or sickly crushes here. While Itch himself is a socially awkward but brave, moral and layered character. The adults are believable; by turns, they are flawed, insecure, workaholic, loving, tender, funny, sweary (though we never hear the swears), violent and complicated. Those are the strongest aspects of "Itch", the plot isn't see-through and the characters are complex.

   Mayo's style is deceptively fluid and it's a pleasure to read, he does have a lovely turn of phrase. And you get the impression he really loves Itch. His dialogue is strong and current, and at no point condescending. There was one clawing moment, after the climax, but I'll totally forgive him that. "Itch" is a thrilling read full of heart-pumping chases and ingenious plans, but it also has interesting themes and explores what Itch's passion costs him and those around him. It feels gritty, authentic and refreshing. I look forward to more Itch adventures (a follow-up is due next year) and to Mayo strengthening his writing voice and interests.

    Thanks for reading,
          LJ




Tuesday 29 May 2012

A review of "A Bit Lost" by Chris Haughton

Hey People in the Ether,

   Chris Haughton creates disarmingly simple tales. This story follows Little Owl who has an "Uh-oh" moment while falling away from a high perch and Mummy Owl. 


   Squirrel is then eager to help but misinterprets Little Owl's descriptions of Mummy Owl, and leads Little Owl to three woodland candidates. Finally, Frog figures it all out and the feathery pair are reunited. With a lovely relieved tear in her eye, Mummy Owl invites Squirrel and Frog up to the perch for a snack. But overcrowding is a problem and the story closes with another "Uh-oh" moment, another tumble and perhaps another adventure. 

   The book is printed on nicely textured paper and there is one flap page that beautifully enhances the story telling.

   Haughton's text is lively, sweet and includes questions and responses that will appeal to young readers. His stylised characters and landscapes have a beautiful retro feel and the colour contrasts are very effective. It's a really charming read.  

   Thanks for reading,
       LJ



Monday 21 May 2012

A review of "Zoe and Beans: The Magic Hoop", written by Chloe Inkpen and illustrated by Mick Inkpen

Hey there, Folks in the Smoke,

   Mike Inkpen brought us the loveable Kipper. Zoe and Beans (a little girl and her dog) are the stars of a new series that he illustrates and his daughter, Chloe, writes.


   This is the duo's third outing. They hunted for Beans' lost favourite toy in "Where is Binky Boo?" and braved the icy Arctic to deliver Zoe's requests to Father Christmas in "Zoe's Christmas List". In this story Zoe uses doggy treats to convince Beans to jump through a hoop. But it's a magical hoop and Beans is converted into a rabbity version of himself. Although this is fun, Zoe is a naturally inquisitive creature and decides that further experimentation is called for - Beans might become something even cooler! 
    So the rabbit becomes a squeaking mouse, the mouse becomes a snap-tastic crocodile and the crocodile becomes an enormous elephant. Disaster - elephantine Beans is now stuck in the hoop - how can he ever get back to his regular self? Zoe thinks he needs to slim down but poor Beans is ravenous and gobbles more doggy treats - so many more that soon he bursts the hoop and happily he is restored to his canine form!

    Both Zoe and Beans are adorable - she's a bit bossy and he's a bit non-plussed, it's a great combination. Mike Inkpen's illustrations are cute and energetic. I love how you can still see Beans in there somewhere, no matter what animal he has become, and Zoe's expressions are priceless. Chloe Inkpen's writing is lovely, she chooses some great words to use - full of action and fun. The size of the text changes occasionally to match the stress and sound required. And there is a great spread where the text winds around like a serpent, as Zoe is chased by a snapping Beans.

     This is a sweet and fun read featuring two charming characters. They've a new adventure coming this summer involving some pants and a trip to the Moon - I'm already imagining the antics!

      Thanks for reading,
           LJ

A review of "The Complete Maus" by Art Spiegelman

Hi People in the Ether,

   "Maus " is perhaps the graphic novel. It is so important and groundbreaking that it found widespread admiration and went on to win the Pulitzer Prize. It's overwhelming but intimate, its horrific though everyday, its universal and personal.


   Art Spiegelman sets out to tell the story of his father's journey through the Holocaust. This means we learn a lot about Vladek's life before and about the man he becomes having survived the ghetto, work and death camps and death march experiences. There is brutal truth and heartbreaking violence, but there is also self-sacrifice and humanity. It's seeringly autobiographical - it lays bare Art's relationship with Vladek, his attitude to him as a survivor, as a father, as a man. The story of Art's own mental illness and his mother's suicide feature, too. And in telling this personal story he also asks questions about the Holocaust, about how survivors are viewed and how they view themselves. Realisations are profound and subtle - Art's conversations with the therapist tell us a lot about survivor guilt and how successive generations deal with shadows and expectations.

   This collection is my second comic strip/graphic novel story recently. It's obviously very different from Brigg's though the honesty and examination of parents as people is similar. Spiegelman's style of illustration is very different - frenetic, fast, sketchy. It's exclusively black and white and runs like frames from a movie - with great pace and immediacy. There are some set pieces and larger scenes, but for the most part the frames progress the story and don't require the eye to linger very long. 

     Spiegelman's ingenious device of characterising different races and nationalities as different animals (the Jewish characters are depicted as mice, the Germans as cats, the Poles as pigs, the Americans as dogs, the British as fish, the Swedish as deer, the French as frogs) works brilliantly in many ways. It allows immediate recognition of the different groups of players, and each character is somehow readily identified. It means that Spiegelman can depict episodes of visceral acts of violence and gut-wrenching death camp scenes - these are obviously and understandably horrific, heart-breaking, nauseating, disturbing. But the reader can just about handle the images because they are not human figures, even though we are aware that they are depicting human beings. I'm not suggesting this is a desensitisation device - I think it's effective and necessary - we mightn't actually be able to look at those graphic, real, brutal scenes in this comic strip style if they were humans. The characters suit the image style, suit the mode of the story, suit how we are digesting this immense story and these disturbing events.

   I'm sure everyone who reads Maus feels moved, affected, touched. Those who think it's not a worthy way to deal with the subject matter should think again. It might be the most suitable, the most affecting, the most apt. It can stand proud with other Holocaust literature but it also very much so it's own creation, it's own yardstick. It is the tale of a father and son, of how the Holocaust affected the generations after and the relationships that followed. I think everyone should read "Maus".

   Thanks for reading,
        LJ

Friday 18 May 2012

A review of "I Want My Hat Back" by Jon Klassen


Hi Folks in the Smoke,
   The first solo venture from animator and illustrator Jon Klassen was named a New York Times Best Illustrated Children's Book of 2011, and it features a depressed bear. The bear has lost a beloved hat and is wandering around forlornly asking a variety of creatures if they've seen it.


   Each encounter is depicted on a left-hand page, against a sepia-coloured background. The dialogue text appears on the white right-hand page. The text is colour-coded to the colour of each beast which is a nice touch.
   They all reply that they haven't seen it. However, the rabbit protests a little too much and is sporting some fetching headgear. The rabbit makes a speedy and garbled declaration of innocence - "I would not steal a hat". The bear takes each reply for granted and shuffles along.

   Only when a therapist-style deer asks what the hat looks like does our slow protagonist finally catch up with the plot. The next spread shows the character and background bathed in a raging red mist, with larger sized text to accompany the epiphany.
   Steps are retraced, passing by all the other characters on a beautifully stark double page spread. Two double pages spreads follow - one with an accusation and another with a silent, staring competition. Finally, we see the bear wearing the hat but the rabbit is nowhere to be seen.

    The story concludes with a squirrel asking after the rabbit's whereabouts, only to be answered with a mirror of the rabbit's earlier rant of innocence - "I would not eat a rabbit". Indeed.

    The dialogue has a morose, Eeyore tone, which matches the personalities and the colour palette. Klassen's minimalist, empty spreads and beautifully angular and stylish animals give this book a wonderfully retro feel. Combined with the lovely end papers and the richly textured paper, this feels like a classic read from 30 years ago - in the best possible way. I'm looking forward to his follow-up "This Is Not My Hat" due later this year.

    Thanks for reading,
          LJ





A review of "The Great Dog Bottom Swap", written by Peter Bently and illustrated by Mei Matsuoka

Hey there, People in the Ether,

   Peter Bently's canine precursor to "Cats Ahoy!" is the tale of "The Great Dog Bottom Swap", endearingly illustrated by Mei Matsuoka.


   The story is simple but clever. We start out at the great doggy social mixer of the year, where the chow includes dog-biscuit stew and slippers and the entertainment ranges from a magic show to stand-up. But disaster soon ensues as some over-enthusiastic doggy dancing leads to a fiery situation and an evacuation of the grand hall. This means that things are scattered, possessions are jumbled and incorrect essentials are taken home - leading to a somehow gross-and-charming explanation for classic canine behaviour. I squealed with delight and shock on the first read. Some might have heard a similar folklore explanation, but surely nobody could resent this wry retelling.

   Bently sets his pace beautifully, with a lovely rhyming narrative and hilarious plotting. The little asides and doggy details are joyous, and until the inferno the party sounds very appealing - what pup wouldn't want an invite?

   Mei Matsuoka's illustrations are energetic and charismatic. There's a great sense of fun and movement, and wry anatomical representation! I loved the leg-cocking scene the most, I think.

   Fun, silly, suitably rude and very witty, this is a great tale to amuse naughty kids and outrage prim and proper ones - grins all round!

   Thanks for reading,
       LJ

Thursday 17 May 2012

A review of "Sir Scallywag and the Golden Underpants", written by Giles Andreae and illustrated by Korky Paul

Hey Folks in the Smoke,

   The latest tale from Giles Andreae (of Purple Ronnie fame) revolves around (drumroll, please) the brave, the clever and the only-six-years-old Sir Scallywag, the most loyal and gallant knight, in a rather rambunctious and untidy court.

   King Colin of England, whose land sports a y-front emblazoned flag, is obsessed with underpants; more precisely, his golden underpants. So much so that when an evil giant creeps into his bedchamber and steals them, Colin doesn't reach for a lesser pair of pants. Instead he wanders around traumatised, merely clutching his robe. The robe allows the bare essentials to be covered, but also allows Korky Paul to cheekily, and essentially, bare the hairy, royal derriere.


   Sir Scallywag is summoned and charged with hunting down the giant and retrieving the royal drawers. He and his trusty steed, Doofus, scour the land but to no avail. They are returning home in ignominy when they encounter the fiend, underpants atop helmet and riding on a gigantic horse heading for the castle. He has the pants and now he wants the kingdom. The fate of the nation rests on Sir Scallywag's narrow shoulders. As he faces the charge of the monstrous enemy he is panicked, but his quick wit, some nimble acrobatics and his over-sized lance allow him to save the underpants and the day. Huzzah!

   Paul's riotous illustrations (very Ronald Searle), in a rich palette of blues, golds and reds, are rendered in line drawing and water colours and suit the story and cast of characters beautifully. I especially loved the details - the queen's wandering eyes, books, ornaments, creepy lizards and knowing birds. There are two spreads in a portrait aspect instead of landscape, so there's the added fun of turning the book and enjoying a tall scene full of drama and the castle's edifice, too.

   Andreae's text, with it's lovely rhythm and rhyme, carries the reader along on this medieval David and Goliath jaunt. Its glee in its own silliness and much-talked-of backsides is infectious. 

    This is a story of pint-sized knights, a ramshackle castle and metal pants that's bursting with courage-inspiring fun - it shows how tiny but brave can defeat huge and uncouth.

   Thanks for reading,
             LJ

A review of "The Baby That Roared", written by Simon Puttock and illustrated by Nadia Shireen

Hi People in the Ether,

   Simon Puttock's garrulous story and Nadia Shireen's warm illustrations combine beautifully to make this picture book a giggly read.

 

   Mr and Mrs Deer pine for a baby, and low and behold an infant shaped parcel lands on their doorstep, appropriately antlered. Mrs Deer sees the "dear little baby" as a gift, Mr Deer is a little more sceptical about the baby's appearance. But they adopt the creature and are soon confronted with trails of parenthood. This baby roars, incessantly.

   An uncle, an aunt and a doctor are recruited and offer advice on feeding, nappy changing and sleep - but each mysteriously disappears when left alone with baby. Finally, wise Granny Bear arrives and decides the baby merely needs burping - this solves the roaring and the mystery as each of the preceding sages are regurgitated and even the deluded Deers must admit that the stranger is no baby, but a greedy little monster. A monster who dashes away into the forest never to be seen, or heard from, again. Or does it?!

   Puttock's phrasing is witty and lovely. Shireen's illustrations are full of colour and texture, and allow attentive young sleuths to figure out that this infant is not so innocent. It's a wicked and quirky read for jealous siblings who might see a new arrival as an actual monster.

   Thanks for reading,
       LJ

Thursday 10 May 2012

A review of "Man on the Moon (a day in the life of Bob)" by Simon Bartram

Hi People in the Ether,
   Bartram's riotously colourful tale features Bob, a statuesque Earthling on a Grant Wood-style Earth. Bob leaves his retro abode and travels to work on the Moon every morning, a swift 15 minute commute. The spacecraft is straight from a Jules Verne story. 
   Bob's lunar duties include patrolling, tidying, bouncing around and giving lectures to tourists. He enjoys sandwiches and hanging out with his interstellar mates (no ladies, here, sadly). However, Bob is completely oblivious to the aliens that scuttle around the Moon, stowaway in his rocket and seem to be slowly but surely running amok, incognito, on Earth.


   The story is fun and Bob is charming if scatterbrained. I do think there's a little too much text. The images are very vibrant, the style is very dense and the scenes are very detailed - they do so much work and could easily let the text be more restrained. Bartram's acrylic artwork is rich and figurative, like 50s advertising art, or a cross between James Chapin portraits and Spitting Image puppets - ideal for all those daring astronauts and funky aliens!

   Bob has gone on to have many more fun, funny and beautiful adventures. I'm looking forward to what he, and Bartram, does next.

   Thanks for reading,
      LJ

Wednesday 9 May 2012

Maurice Sendak (1928-2012)

   The internet is, rightly so, awash with tributes to Maurice Sendak and analysis of his rich legacy. His atmospheric illustrations and his brave, dark and twisty tales are gems. They offer just the right amount of unsettling peril in the context of a warm duvet and a loving voice. 

   He said many wise, ascerbic things. This might just be my favourite:

"Grown-ups desperately need to feel safe, and then they project onto the kids. But what none of us seem to realize is how smart kids are. They don't like what we write for them, what we dish up for them, because it's vapid, so they'll go for the hard words, they'll go for the hard concepts, they'll go for the stuff where they can learn something, not didactic things, but passionate things." (in conversation with Sarah Lyall of The New York Times, 1993)

Sunday 6 May 2012

A review of "Bella and Monty - A Hairy, Scary Night" by Alex T. Smith

Hey Folks in the Smoke,
   I know this is another Alex T Smith review but a lovely friend gave "Bella and Monty" to me after my "Ella" post so I thought I'd stick with him for one more blog.

   Bella and Monty are best friends though polar opposites in the courage stakes - Bella is a brave and inquisitive puppy while Monty is shy and scaredy kitten.

 

   Monty's fears are wide and varied and on a sleepover Bella teaches him that the dark is necessary but not evil, ghosts and ghouls are quite cool and spiders aren't creeps at all. Their nocturnal adventure is cute and gentle with just the right amount of edge and darkness to the illustrations. My favourite spread is the ghoul classroom, it's so witty. Monty learns life is full of interesting encounters and that frights are more imagined than present. He is emboldened by the time they return through a bat-ted wood to their snug sleeping bags. Enough so as to play a prank on Bella. A sound night's sleep ensues.

   Smith's characters are loveable and the text has a lovely cadence to it ("his whiskers wobbled and his tail quivered"). His illustrations are warm, even when their subject is dark and full of fears. He uses texture, flock and fabric to build up his images - and the pictures are full and vibrant as a result. I liked the colour palette and style of this much more than "Ella", I'd have to admit.  

   A great bedtime tale to banish monsters under beds. Thanks for reading,
            LJ


Friday 27 April 2012

A review of "Ella" by Alex T. Smith

Hi Folks in the Smoke,


   This reinterpretation of Cinderella is the latest offering from illustrator and author Alex T Smith.

   Ella is a woebegone and exhausted ladybird with horrid wasp stepsisters. She needs adventure and escape. Pierre is a Paris-based artistic spider. He needs a new muse and throws a Grand Bug Ball to which the wasps are invited, so Ella heads there are as their bag bearer. Culture-vulture Ella wanders around Paris while her sisters get some much needed beauty sleep. She literally bumps into Pierre. She helps him to his many feet and in return he, cleverly, kisses all four of her hands. On parting, she is bashful, he is besotted.



    The sisters leave for the ball but Ella stays in the hotel. Suddenly she discovers a party invite, snazzy outfit and funky spectacles - from her loving friend Ms Buzzbottom. Off Ella scuttles to the ball which is held on a candle chandelier.
    Naturally, Pierre doesn't put two and two together to identify Ella at the ball but they do boogie the night away. That is until she realises she must rush back to the hotel before her sisters do so. In her hurry she leaves the shiny specs behind - and these replace the glass slipper. The following day, a string of eligible young female bugs try and fail with the specs until Ella arrives and she and Pierre are reunited.

   Smith's story is a nice retelling of the fairy tale - the insects work well as a characters, though interspecies love is a tad weird. There is still that fundamental Cinderella problem of happy-ever-after equaling a dude rescuing her from drudgery but it is fun and sweet. The text is lively and full of nice witticisms. Ella is a lovely protagonist,  kind but determined. I enjoyed Pierre being a frustrated artist for whom love is the greatest inspiration - instead of being a lazy royal. The sibilance and symbolism of Ms Buzzbottom are great. Though I was disappointed when she later becomes a Mrs because of a tragic typo - I hope this is fixed at reprint.

   The illustrations are vibrant - the flowery environments and architectural Paris contrast beautifully. The colours are delectable - a riot of pinks, purples, reds, greens and splashes of yellow. And the ladybird endpapers are a nice touch. 

    Thanks for reading,
             LJ


Saturday 21 April 2012

A review of "Cats Ahoy!", written by Peter Bently and illustrated by Jim Field

Hey there, People in the Ether,

   Deserved winner of the six-and-under category in the Roald Dahl Funny Prize 2011, "Cats Ahoy" is packed with piratical felines, high adventure and fishy plunder.

   This is a charming and witty picture book. It warmed the cockles of my heart even though I'm a devout dog person and not remotely fond of cats.

Roald Dahl Funniest Book: Roald Dahl Funniest Book
   In a cobbled, still and moonlit harbour, the slick and skulking feline, Alfonso, hears rumours of a haul of haddock. Rallying his hearties from their cat-flapped homes he then sequesters the aptly named vessel, the Kipper, for their mission.

   Cut to human sailors, Captain Trawlaney P Craddock and his crew (including an eye-patch sporting teddy bear), having their timbers shivers by the spectre of a ghostly ship on the horizon. They panic and summarily abandon ship before the Kipper sails close enough for them to see that it is cat-ted, not manned, by the living. Alfonso and his motley kitties loot the ship's tasty cargo and high tail it to a skulduggerous cove where we see them glut and and dance the week away.

   Their humans have missed them, and when they eventually return home, to hear the tale of Craddock's trauma, they smile as if butter wouldn't melt. They are lovely, innocent felines.

   The story is is irrepressible and irresistible. It fizzes along with Peter Bently's lovely rhymes - a lilting cadence that kids will chime in with. Jim Field's super-detailed illustrations are atmospheric and entrancing. He pulls us into the harbour village and on to the ocean waves. The scenes are painterly and textured, especially the mist and water. Each of the characters, major or minor, cat or person, has bags of personality simply from their appearance.

   It's a delightful tale, full of energy and affection. And the punchline is priceless and makes me grin every time!

   Thanks for reading,
     LJ

Sunday 15 April 2012

A review of "Beat the Band" by Don Calame

Hey Folks in the Smoke,

   I really enjoyed Don Calame's debut YA "Swim the Fly". It followed Matt as he spent the summer trying to master the butterfly stroke in an effort to impress an unworthy girl. It was full of high school angst, teenage high jinx, a smattering of gross out scenes, uncomfortable and farcical situations and healthy doses of sexual frustration and choice swearing. It was brave, funny, clever and filled with endearing characters including Matt's best friends Coop and Sean. So I was very excited about Calame's latest release.


   In this follow-up, we see the lads starting a new school year and Coop is our narrator. At first glance, he is the least likeable of the trio but we climb into his head and his skin and start to understand what's underneath all the bravado. Coop is someone who's not totally sure who he is yet or how and when he should stand away from the crowd.


   He's assigned the school pariah, Helen, as a partner on a health studies project on methods of contraception. Coop decides to take defensive action. For the sake of his rep, he signs his not-so-musical trio up for Battle of the Bands. There ensues a cascade of plagiarism, band practice, detentions and slow, poignant falling in love. And that love is accompanied by confusion about identity, school bullies and dignity. Helen grows in Coop's eyes, and he moves from despicable and gauche, to somebody who learns the truth about both high school reputations and love.

   The band stuff is fun, especially the sequence that sees them experimenting with stage image - it goes distinctly awry. The peripheral characters, including Coop's aged rocker dad and Helen's incapacitated mother, are three dimensional and important. Helen is touchingly rendered and feels very real and relatable. Sexual health facts are quite subtly included, they don't seem forced, and Calame has written a squirm-inducing father-and-son prophylactic demonstration - I spluttered, I giggled, I guffawed.

   Calame really knows, and loves, his characters. They are true and important. The plotting and rhythm are punchy throughout - the trivia and turmoils that they face are cleverly interlaced. His style is relaxed, Coop's voice is very sincere and loud. And the teen phraseology is never overdone or obtuse. It's a laugh-out-loud story that also has heart along with a respect for its readership. It's a great addition to the boy YA shelves that are often understocked and particularly lacking in tales of friendship, love and schoolhood drama.

   Thanks for reading,
               LJ

Thursday 12 April 2012

A review of "Ethel & Ernest" by Raymond Briggs

Hello People in the Ether,

   This isn't a new book, though it is new to me. And it isn't a picture book, it's a foray into strip cartoon storytelling long before graphic novels became vogue. Oh, and it isn't a children's book, it's mature, real and wounding - though good fodder for them in years to come.

                           

   I have very fond childhood memories of Briggs' Father Christmas, Snowman and Fungus stories. But this is an altogether more serious and aching piece. Briggs uses his comic strip style to affectionately and honestly tell the tale of his parents' relationship, from courtship to grave.

   The story is tenderly crafted, full of love and personality. Ethel is conservative, proper and aspirational, Ernest is political, hard-working and doting. We get to know the couple, their idiosyncrasies and the dynamics of their love as we witness the little moments and big dramas that make a life. I especially love the way Briggs shows Ethel and Ernest making their house into a cosy home.

   As we sweep through much of the twentieth century there is war, rationing, technological advances and political upheaval. But these social and historical backdrops never overwhelm the story - they are just facets of the couple's existence.

   Briggs' frames are bathed in warmth, wit and regard. He may be telling his parents' story and appearing in it himself, but it never falters into sentimentality or schmaltz. The book is all about truth and love. The illustrations are subtle, strong in their simplicity, and utterly beguiling. The scratchy lines create a sense of place and person, making it look so much easier than I'd hazard it was. The closing sequences, especially the final illustration of Ethel, are genuine, searing and heartbreaking.

   The hand lettering of all the text is glorious - it gives the story a personal, letter-like quality, as if Briggs is relating all this to me and me alone. He has been known to bemoan the fact that he's not a "proper writer", that he has to consider the physicality of the book, the tone of the illustrations, the grid and layout, the printer's colour palette instead of just focusing on the words. But I think this gives his books a holistic creation. He definitely is a "proper writer", he crafts beautifully succinct and evocative text. But he's more - he's an artist, a maker of books, a storyteller.

   "Ethel & Ernest" won the Illustrated Book of the Year in 1998, but it could easily have been the book of the year - it can hold its head high in the company of Ian McEwan's "Amsterdam". It's a masterpiece in its own everyday, humble, personal way.

    Thanks for reading,
                       LJ

Saturday 17 March 2012

Reviews of "Ernest" and "Iris and Isaac" by Catherine Rayner

Hello again, Folks in the Smoke,

    Catherine Rayner is a master crafter of the warm, witty animal tale. I've enjoyed all her books but thought I'd chat about my favourite two today.

    "Ernest" is about a moose who is so huge that he can't quite squish himself into the book. It's such a simple and clever idea that you almost start shoving him around yourself in order to help him fit on the page. He's delightful and gorgeous, Rayner's tender lines are adorably smudged and convey a lot about Ernest's character not just his form. The stubborn moose and his chipmunk buddy get to work, if Ernest can't fit in the book, they'll make the book big enough for Ernest. The punchline involves some beautiful paper engineering allowing Ernest to take his rightful pride of place. Victory!

                                                

    "Iris and Isaac" are two moody polar bears. They're friends (or something more?) but aren't good sharers, they fall out and storm off in respective huffs. As they wander the icy wastes, they discover beautiful sights only to realise they would enjoy them all the more if they were together, sharing them. Rayner's prose is strong, subtle and wry, never overloading the emotion. And the great, expansive landscapes are somehow gently and minimally rendered. The bears eventually reunite and reconnect, and appreciate each other again - their togetherness a great warmth in the polar chill. The perfect story for squabbling siblings, or even tiffing partners!  

                                         
   
    Rayner's warm text, and sparse yet brimming illustrations, make her picture books quiet and poignant, funny and smart. They are unassuming works of art full of endearing characters and refined life-lessons.  

    Thanks for reading,
          LJ

Wednesday 14 March 2012

A review of "A Beautiful Lie" by Irfan Master

Hello People in the Ether,

   So, it's about time for a YA, and a debut YA with plenty of boy-appeal at that. "A Beautiful Lie" by Irfan Master is a tale of honour, religion and filial love. Set in northern India as partition approaches in 1947, Bilal must care for his dying father amid all the turmoil and violence. His narration is innocent, naive and heartfelt, we learn heartbreak along with Bilal. The story is populated by noble elders, riotous youths and ghosts of things lost or leaving.   

    His father is wise, gentle and learned - the most prized possession in their simple home is the wall of books. He also believes in India as an entity, a land of cultures and religions coexisting harmoniously. So Bilal and his friends plot to protect him from the truth of the sectarian attacks and the fact that his beloved India is about to be divided into different states.


                                                        


    The narrative is touching and dramatic. It understandably focuses on Bilal's experiences and might be a bit too sweet or over-simplified for a non-YA reader, losing some of its impetus in the middle, but it is admirable in its themes. It's rich, atmospheric and engaging. And the epilogue will bring a lump to even the most resistant of throats. It's refreshing to find a straight historical fiction in YA that doesn't revolve around royalty, romance or the supernatural - I enjoyed it.


          Thanks for reading,
                 LJ

Monday 27 February 2012

A review of "Good Little Wolf" by Nadia Shireen

Hello People in the Ether,

   Nadia Shireen's debut picture book "Good Little Wolf" is charming, playful and irreverent.

                                            

   Rolf is a model citizen - his best friend is a grandmother, he's pleasant to pigs, he enjoys baking and dutifully eats his greens. Then, low and behold, on a walk in creepy wood he's cornered by the archetypal bully - the Big Bad Wolf - who promptly informs Rolf that he's a failure as wolves go. Rolf maintains that he is a real wolf, he just happens to be of the good and little variety. But, though he is a very awesome, cute and spunky little wolf, he fails at the real wolf task list. Nearing the end of his tether, but sticking to his good guns, Rolf ties up the bully for hinting that devouring his best friend would prove his wolfhood. Rolf, being the nobler creature, releases the BBW and there follows a cordial tea at which the grandmother personage and Rolf suggest that BBW change his ways and become a BGW instead. Shireen then wraps it all up with a tasty ambiguity.

   Shireen's writing uses familiar characters in a "Revolting Rhymes" mode, employing repetition and a delightful cadence. The illustration sequence, a mixture of full spread scenes, split spread images and individual vignettes, sets the pace of the tale nicely. The characters are bold and wry - Rolf is furry and adorable, the BBW is deliciously dangerous in his ebony pelt and the elderly dear has a manic pain-killer induced grin all the while.

   All-in-all, this is an engaging story about identity and stereotypes, told with witty words and enchanting illustrations. A fairytale with bite!

      Thanks for reading,
                LJ