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