Mermaids in Paradise, by Lydia Millet; W.W. Norton & Co, $25.95, 304 pages. (November 3, 2014)
Looking for a beachside novel to tote to sunny locales during your winter getaway? Pulitzer Prize finalist Lydia Millet (Love in Infant Monkeys) delivers something slyly different from the usual cabana literary fare. The book starts with a traditional honeymoon narrative: newlyweds Chip and Deb disembark at a gorgeous Caribbean island, fully prepared to do nothing more than bask in the sun. Instead, they meet a marine biologist who has recently discovered a group of mermaids living off the coast. After the discovery goes public and hoteliers try to capitalize on the find, there’s no more quiet vacation for the lovebirds. Murder and intrigue soon follow in this quick-witted, fast-paced satire. Millet’s wonderfully dark, surreal story manages to address the serious topic of misusing natural resources with verve and biting wit, while straddling a few literary genres at the same time. Allow yourself to get lost in this frothy frolic.
Pop-up New York, by Jennie Maizels, Candlewick Press; $19.99, 12 pages, all ages.
Forget the ubiquitous I LOVE NY tee shirts because there’s a better way to show your love for the Big Apple that also makes a great holiday gift; Jennie Maizels’ latest oversize pop-up book dedicated to New York. (London was the object of her previous pop-up ode to urban life.) Here readers are treated to marvelous paper engineering showcasing many of the places that make New York unique, such as the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, Yankee Stadium, and the High Line. Each oversize page is filled with fact-filled flaps for further exploration. Where many pop-up books of this size and scope can cost close to thirty dollars, Pop-up New York delivers great value as a statement-making present and can be found for less than $20. If you can’t make it to New York this holiday season, bring it home instead – there’s no place like it.
photo by Autumn Le Brannon. Reproduced with permission from Candlewick Press.
Jon Klassen on Making Art for Kids
In July I spoke with Caldecott and Greenaway Medal winner Jon Klassen (This is Not My Hat) about his most recent project, a collaboration with writer and longtime friend Mac Barnett called Sam and Dave Dig a Hole. (Candlewick, $17.99) We talked about teamwork, tone, and teaching life’s lessons through thoughtful and deliberate illustration.
Klassen first worked with Barnett on the Caldecott Honor winner Extra Yarn, and was excited to reunite professionally for Sam and Dave Dig a Hole. “When Mac wrote Extra Yarn, he wrote with my artwork in mind. For example, ‘The town was covered in soot,’ was just for me, because he knew how much I like to make splattery, dusty art. There were many little favors like that in the book.” There’s more dirt here, where Klassen’s restrained, quirkily stiff characters dig for buried treasure alongside Barnett’s spare text, creating a superb interplay of text and art. Still,Klassen was nervous about drawing humans. “I don’t draw people very often – I usually avoid them because people are supposed to be cute.“ (Think of his larcenous critters in This is Not My Hat and I Want my Hat Back.) Here, the boys dig in search of treasure, but miss hidden gems at every turn, and often by mere inches. Their faithful dog frequently sports a pained look on his face, sharing the readers’ understanding that the boys are just barely digging past something extraordinary.
Both Barnett and Klassen have similar ideas about the tone they want to set for any given project, and that may explain why their books have a seamless quality about them. “Mac understands why I like things to be a certain way, and he backs that up with text. As an illustrator, it’s nice to work with someone who meets you in the middle.”
While Barnett wrote Sam and Dave Dig a Hole, Klassen was already sketching. He created an image where the boys separated, digging tunnels at either end of a page, while a massive jewel remains hidden between them. Barnett hadn’t written that scene yet. When Klassen showed him the drawing, the story changed to accommodate the art. “We designed the book so that wherever the boys were digging on the left spread, the text would line up with them in space on the right spread. I thought about what would happen if the boys split up, and if the text followed suit.” Initially, Barnett hesitated because he felt it might be traumatic for the readers if the boys separated, then realized that this could become the pivotal moment in the tale. “This became a big deal. I like when you come at an idea with a neat design, and then you ask what the emotional implications of this idea will be.” The separation brings an actual dilemma, yet the boys push on with surprising strength and resolve. (Spoiler: they miss the gem again, but it’s a great sight gag. A nap, hidden bones, more dirt and a plunge through space follow.)
Klassen’s art is deceptively simple – his colored pencil drawings give the gems, the boys, even the dog, a scratchy, zig-zaggy, dusty quality. Children might be tempted to recreate those characters, much like Mo Willems’ Pigeon is so often imitated by little artists. “These are very simple drawings. Kids appreciate simplicity, something that looks attainable,” said Klassen. And while many illustrators are capable of creating sophisticated, complex works of art, Klassen argues that isn’t the goal for children’s picture books. “I don’t think it’s the job of an illustrator to show off. The point is to tell a story to kids. If you look at anything by P.D. Eastman, for example, the art isn’t showy, but it’s so well staged. Eastman was solving so many problems on the back end before he even started drawing. Some of his books are strange and complicated, but they work.” The challenge lies in tackling big problems with clear text and artistry. Done well, an author can tackle difficult emotional topics through accessible storytelling and illustration.
Despite earning numerous laurels from the publishing industry, the media, and fellow illustrators, Klassen remains what he calls ‘a nervous artist.’ Having grown up on classic picture books like those by P.D. Eastman and Arnold Lobel, Klassen says the bar is set pretty high. “I can’t get away from being nervous about it. These can become revered treasures for children. It’s hard to completely understand the things these books are supposed to do, and the importance they can have in kids’ lives. So there’s a massive amount of anxiety for me, because I know how special these books can be. When I see books that got it right, it’s wonderful.”
The Mouse Mansion, written and created by Karina Schaapman, photographed by Ton Bouwer; Dial Books, $18.99, 60 pages ages 5-8.
Usually when there’s a mouse in the house, the human inhabitants run for the hills. Here, debut children’s book author Karina Schaapman created a home just for those furry creatures. Her six foot wide, ten feet tall, hundred-room mouse mansion is made of cardboard boxes and paper mâché, and each room is filled with to the brim with all the trappings one would expect in a home – diapers and formula in the nursery, armoires overflowing with tiny undergarments, bookshelves bursting with miniature versions of Charlotte’s Web and Winnie the Pooh. The carefully shot photographs are by Ton Bouwer, and the folio-size pages allow for careful examination of each object.
The Mouse Mansion, written and created by Karina Schaapman, photographed by Ton Bouwer; Dial Books, $18.99, 60 pages ages 5-8.
Usually when there’s a mouse in the house, the human inhabitants run for the hills. Here, debut children’s book author Karina Schaapman created a home just for those furry creatures. Her six foot wide, ten feet tall, hundred-room mouse mansion is made of cardboard boxes and paper mâché, and each room is filled with to the brim with all the trappings one would expect in a home – diapers and formula in the nursery, armoires overflowing with tiny undergarments, bookshelves bursting with miniature versions of Charlotte’s Web and Winnie the Pooh. The carefully shot photographs are by Ton Bouwer, and the folio-size pages allow for careful examination of each object.
This mansion isn’t for ritzy city murines; it gives off a warm, nubby, cozy feel, and the accoutrements appear pulled from a romp through an attic that hasn’t been touched since 1970. Families of gray and white cloth mice live here, and two young friends, Sam and Julia, scamper from room to room in search of adventure and fun. There’s laundry to sort, a bakery to visit, and even a Friday night Sabbath to attend, complete with a tiny table covered by challah, candles and wine. Schaapman’s detailed artwork is accompanied by thoughtful and informative text, and though the book clocks in at 60 pages, each chapter can easily be read as a unique tale. Pouring over the abundant detail on each page will captivate readers of all ages, and makes an excellent reading choice for snuggling up and spending a wintry afternoon with little readers.
Mr. Cornell’s Dream Boxes, by Jeanette Winter; Beach Lane Press, $17.99, 40 pages, ages 4-8.
Jeanette Winter’s latest biographical picture book (Biblioburro: A True Story from Colombia; Malala, a Brave Girl from Pakistan) is about Joseph Cornell, a twentieth-century artist and sculptor based in Queens, New-York. He was famous for creating collages and three-dimensional artwork called assemblage, where he filled handmade boxes with his artwork and found objects. Cornell also had a soft spot for children, and at his last exhibit, held at the Cooper Union School of Art and Architecture in 1972, Cornell instructed the curators to hang his artwork three feet from the ground so that children could better see the tiny worlds Cornell created. Spare, precise text accompanies dreamy, somewhat surreal images of dancers in snow, pipes blowing soap bubbles, and frosty pink cupcakes. Despite being restrained by two dimensions, Winter’s renderings provide a surprising perception of depth, and are alive with colors, shapes and patterns. This is an inviting and magical exploration of an artist who created dream worlds wrought miniature. Art enthusiasts of all ages may be inspired to create their own memory boxes and dream of fantastic places much as Cornell once did.
As an eleven year old with a penchant for dying her hair gray and defying wearing what can perhaps be described as granny attire, Tavi Gevinson launched her fashion blog StyleRookie in 2008. Since then she has held a firm grip on the hearts and minds of her readership and has recently branched out from observing the catwalk by founding a new website where she explores, celebrates and commiserates all that goes into being an adolescent girl in contemporary society. Rookie: Yearbook Three is the latest installment in a trio of volumes showcasing the best and most powerful contributions to Gevinson’s latest online magazine RookieMag.com.
Rookie: Yearbook Threedoes resemble that high-school rite of passage, minus the stuffy leather hardcover and black and white pages. It’s folio size, and entries start with July 2013 through May 2014, with articles for each month corresponding to a given theme. (For example, October 2013’s topic was appropriately entitled “Haunted.”) Gevinson’s team includes dozens of energetic young writers, photographers and illustrators who provided thoughtful, witty and nuanced work. Look for some star-studded names in the contributor list, like the Fanning sisters, Lorde, and Shailene Woodley.
There’s nothing here that speaks down or demeans readers, nor is there any duplicity sometimes found in more mainstream magazines aimed at the 13-18 female demographic, where an uplifting story on body acceptance might be followed by a photo spread showcasing girls as vapid eye-candy. The book and website’s eponymous titles refer to what Gevinson believes is a shared experience among her audience and her staff; everyone is figuring out life as they go along, but members of this particular community navigate the twisted road to adulthood together, possibly arriving with a greater arsenal of self-acceptance and self-confidence than generations prior.
Rookie: Yearbook Three would make an excellent and most appreciated gift to any teenage girl. Perhaps parents would do themselves a favor and read it too – at an age where most children would rather die than sit down and talk with adults, this book offers insight on today’s youth, and it’s pretty inspiring. If Gevinson has her way, there’s likely a Book Four in the works to round out the entire high school experience, and we’re eager to see what’s next.
Photo by S McElmeel. Used with permission from Scholastic Press.
My Grandfather’s Coat, retold by Jim Aylesworth, illustrated by Barbara McClintock; Scholastic Press, $17.99, 32 pages, ages 3-7. (October 21, 2014)
The chill of autumn is upon us, and My Grandfather’s Coat is a heartwarming way to welcome the new season. In Jim Aylesworth’s retelling of the classic Yiddish folksong “I Had a Little Overcoat” (“Hob Ikh Mir a Mantl”) we meet the narrator’s grandfather as an immigrant passing through Ellis Island. The young man becomes a tailor, marries, and as he lives his life, he wears a coat of his own creation. Time passes and the coat frays, but the ever industrious tailor recycles it to suit his needs. The coat, in some form or another, ultimately makes it through four generations before becoming tattered bits of thread. Even in this state, there is still another use for the remaining cloth. Aylesworth’s gift of storytelling will bring smiles to readers as he extols the virtues of hard work and thriftiness through rhythmic repetition of sonorous rhymes begging to be read aloud. Complemented by Barbara McClintock’s satisfyingly comforting pen and ink watercolors, this quintessentially American tale will no doubt spur readers to explore their own immigrant pasts. The notes, written by both Aylesworth and McClintock explain their family roots as well as the inspiration for the artwork. My Grandfather’s Coat weaves an inspirational story onto the loom of our collective American history. Consider this as a perfect gift for families on Thanksgiving, a holiday as distinct as our country’s creation.
The Numberlys, by William Joyce and Christina Ellis; Atheneum Books, $17.99, 56 pages, ages 3-7.
This latest offering from Emmy Award-winner William Joyce presents a metropolis inhabited by orderly number craftspeople, where everything is gray, predictable and there is no alphabet. The roads, towns and food have no names, only numbers. One day, five curious friends wonder if there might be more to life than just counting, and they surreptitiously begin experimenting with new projects, eventually fashioning an alphabet. The story is a little thin, serving as a setup for some outsize art. As the alphabet forms, the book slowly shifts from black and white to sepia tones, and eventually to full technicolor.
Debut picture-book illustrator Christina Ellis’ Art Deco city of the future is full of tall skyscrapers and large cranks recalling Fritz Lang’s 1927 film Metropolis, minus the dystopia and anxiety. These large, symmetrical shapes require most of the book be read vertically. While unique, perhaps the book might have been better served (and more dramatic) by an accordion layout or by publishing the book in folio format.
Children will no doubt enjoy cheering on the sprightly folks who bring literacy to their community. Tech-savvy parents are invited to investigate an augmented reality app where the book ‘comes to life’ and children can manipulate machines similar to those in the book, creating letters of their own. Joyce’s previous book The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr Morris Lessmore employed a similar digital tie-in to great success. The Numberlys is slick and glossy, yet the physical book feels like a prop for the more whiz-bang online elements. Still, parents could certainly find less educational apps to feed their children, and this is one of the better hybrids currently available. Brave new world, indeed.
Madeleines: Elegant French Tea Cakes To Bake & Share, by Barbara Feldman Morse; Quirk Books, $19.95, 176 pages.
Everyone’s either read or read about that famous passage in Marcel Proust’s À la recherche du temps perdu where the narrator, upon accepting his mother’s invitation to take tea and enjoy a scallop-shaped pastry, is suddenly and vividly transported back in time at those first flaky bites. Supposedly invented by a young servant named Madeleine Palumier at the court of Louis XV, these distinctive little cakes have been regaled as sophisticated and elegant cakelets. And perhaps because of the madeleine’s pedigree and chic associations, many home cooks might refrain from baking them. Enter Barbara Feldman Morse, award-winning baker and recipe developer, who demystifies the madeleine and enthusiastically encourages readers to try one of the seventy versions in this book. The very fact that there are so many types of madeleines may shock readers, since some devotees feel (again, thanks to Proust) that there is only one authentic flavor. Morse takes out all the guesswork by introducing a one-bowl mixing method in a bid to save time. (She’s also included the classic method for those bakers with more experience, or time.)
They look fancy, but madeleines don’t require expensive ingredients – indeed, the basic recipe is nothing more than eggs, flour, sugar and butter – and will give home bakers the opportunity to employ those long-neglected madeleine pans received as housewarming presents. I am a wishful baker: I read cookbooks like these and long to try the concoctions described therein, only to either be totally disappointed at my lack of pastry skills or frustrated by vaguely written recipes. I located my own (never used) madeleine pan and attempted the classic recipe, reprinted below. To my delight, fragrant cakelets formed after less than an hour of preparation. While Morse suggests freezing uneaten madeleines, mine did not last long. Bonne Fournée! (Happy Baking!)
CLASSIC FRENCH MADELEINES
Excerpted from Madeleinesby Barbara Feldman Morse. Reprinted with permission from Quirk Books.
I used to think there was nothing like a flaky croissant to make me long to live in France. Then I made these madeleines. The buttery, lemony flavor, combined with the gorgeous seashell shape—ridged on one side, smooth on the other—inspires daydreams of moving to one of Paris’s arrondissements. And here’s the best part: Although on this side of the pond a legitimate-tasting croissant is tough to find (let alone to bake!), these classic French madeleines are a cinch to make and taste divine. Serve them plain or dust them with confectioners’ sugar to jazz them up juste un petit peu.
Yield : 24 madeleines
8 tbsp (1 stick) unsalted butter, plus 4 tbsp for pans (optional)
1 cup all-purpose flour
1⁄2 tsp baking powder
3 large eggs
2⁄3 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla bean paste or vanilla extract
11 ⁄2 tsp freshly grated lemon zest
1.Place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat oven to 350°F. Coat two 12-shell pans with baking spray, or melt an additional 4 tablespoons butter and brush in each mold.
2.In a small bowl, whisk together flour and baking powder.
3.Place butter in another bowl and microwave on low power for 1 minute, or until melted. Allow to cool to room temperature.
4.Place eggs and sugar in a 2-quart glass bowl or measuring cup and beat with a hand or stand mixer on medium-high speed until mixture is light and fluffy, about 3 to 5 minutes.
5.Add vanilla and zest and continue beating for another minute or so. Fold in the flour mixture until just blended, then drizzle the cooled butter over the batter and incorporate completely.
6.Using a 11⁄2-inch-diameter scoop or a teaspoon, fill shell molds with batter until almost full. Gently press batter to distribute it evenly.
7. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until madeleines puff up and are golden brown.
8. Remove pans from oven and let cool on a wire rack for 2 to 3 minutes, then invert and tap madeleines onto the rack. You may also use a small offset spatula to remove each one individually. Let cool completely if planning to store and/or freeze. Otherwise, serving madeleines warm from the oven is best!