Review by New York Times Review
THERE exists in children's literature a tradition of stories best described as "absurd" or "nonsense." Such books derive their legitimacy and longevity from the open-mindedness of the people for whom they are written. Young children are not, after all, as insistent as their elders that a story adhere to the rules of logic or the nature of reality. This acceptance of the absurd reflects their willingness, eagerness even, to suspend disbelief. A feeling of liberation lies behind this attraction: the antic, anything-goes quality of the deeply nonsensical story is fundamentally appealing to a child's anarchic spirit. But writers toiling in this genre must not themselves embrace anarchy. While their work need not make sense, it should still make a point. Reading to a child about ridiculous characters in preposterous situations can be entertaining. However, if the material feels arbitrary and meaningless, reading it is no different from making funny faces with flapping lips and motorboat sounds. There's nothing wrong with this, but it shouldn't be confused with the act of sharing a story. Both Jon Agee ("My Rhinoceros," "The Incredible Painting of Felix Clousseau") and Oliver Jeffers ("Stuck," "Lost and Found") have created books that are prime examples of nonsense. Agee's book, "The Other Side of Town," deals with a familiar premise: the existence of a bizarre parallel world found on the other side of a magic portal. In this case, a New York City cabdriver is directed by his odd passenger to "Schmeeker" (not Bleecker) Street, which lies on "the other side of town," a destination that can be reached by passing through the phantomlike "Finkon" (not Lincoln) Tunnel. This part of the city is home to a baseball team, the "Spankees," and a crazy bridge, "the Snooklyn." Its buildings resemble pink igloos, and after discharging his fare, the cabby feels greatwife preparing "tweet loaf" with "bravy" while his daughter reads a magazine about the Spankees. The bewildered expression on the cabby's face is the same one readers will wear in confronting this development. Is the cabby actually trapped on "the other side of town" with some doppelgänger family? Has his family mysteriously embraced the culture of "the other side of town" and become its partisans? Both possibilities would seem alarming, and yet the final page depicts the cabby sitting in front of his tweet loaf dinner with a contented smile on his face. In "This Moose Belongs to Me," Oliver Jeffers presents Wilfred, a young boy who owns a moose that simply "came to him a while ago and he knew, just KNEW that it was meant to be his." The moose, whom he names Marcel, has a role that lies somewhere between imaginary friend and willful pet. Wilfred attempts to control Marcel by imposing a set of rules. Then, while on a long walk, Wilfred discovers his moose is actually named Rodrigo and belongs to an elderly blue-haired woman. The moose rejects the boy for the old woman, and Wilfred rushes home, "embarrassed and enraged." En route, he becomes tangled up and trapped in the woods, and after a cold and lonely night, Marcel rescues him. This precipitates a renewal of the boy/moose relationship, one in which following Wilfred's rules will be strictly optional for Marcel. The book ends with a cautionary note for Wilfred, when yet another possible owner hails the moose as "Dominic." The illustrations in both books are perfectly suited to the nonsensical stories they tell. They reinforce the comic sensibilities inherent in the material and establish the absurd reality essential for the absurd texts that accompany them. However, even as both books pass the test of making fun while still making a point, it is not clear exactly what those points are. Chris Van Allsburg is the author of "Jumanji" and "The Polar Express," both Caldecott Medal winners, and most recently, "The Chronicles of Harris Burdick."
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [November 11, 2012]
Review by Booklist Review
*Starred Review* Wilfred is a young man with seriousness of purpose (and a bow tie and suspenders), and he owns a moose. Finders keepers, after all. Wilfred explains to his moose, Marcel, all of the rules for being a good pet, but Marcel is impervious to such instructions. Indeed, the pair happens upon a little old lady only to discover that Marcel is actually Rodrigo, and not Willard's moose at all. Willard departs, despondent, and gets himself into some trouble, involving a tangle of powder-blue string and the advent of monsters. But the moose shows up to save him, and the two arrive at a new arrangement. Or so it seems . . . Jeffers composes his trademark painterly cartoon figures atop a variety of backgrounds, including Victorian linotypes and some Serbian landscape paintings (scrupulously sourced). He mashes them together with a bit of intentional pixilation and lots of good cheer, and infuses the mix with remarkable drama, conveying a bevy of emotions with simple gestures and an astute sense of color. The result is a spirited, appealing romp that hums with motley vitality and good-natured humor, certain to induce cheers and groans and chuckles galore.--Barthelmess, Thom Copyright 2010 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
It won't take readers long to see that Wilfred has moose problems. He tries hard to make Marcel the moose obey his many rules ("Rule 7 [subsection b]: Maintaining a certain proximity to home"), but Marcel is only vaguely interested in Wilfred. What he really likes are apples. Wilfred's role as moose owner is further cast into doubt when a random old lady greets Marcel as Rodrigo. "You're back!" she cries. (Marcel reacts warmly, but only because she has an apple.) Eventually, Wilfred is able to recognize Marcel's independence; it's a useful and unexpectedly heartwarming lesson in lowered expectations. Nervous Wilfred is dressed in a geeky bowtie and suspenders, while Marcel is the size of a garden shed, with antlers like towel racks. What really ups the ante are Jeffers's (Stuck) incongruously grandiose backdrops. Wilfred's struggle plays out against dawn-kissed mountain ranges, brooding spruces, and sweeping American plains, giving the proceedings an air of faux-solemn dignity that's hilariously at odds with Wilfred's dorky personality. The moose may not belong to Wilfred, but the laughs certainly belong to Jeffers. Ages 3-7. (Nov.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
K-Gr 2-Wilfred wants a pet, so when a moose just happens to wander by, the boy claims him as his own and dedicates a lot of time to teaching Marcel the rules of being a good one. They fill their days exploring the countryside and taking long walks. One day, however, Wilfred discovers that his moose might have a whole other life that he knows nothing about. He must figure out how to process this shocking discovery and decide if he can accept the fact that he must alter the boundaries of their friendship. With its classic story of friendship and witty text, this beautiful picture book will appeal to children. The fonts are mixed between standard type and words that appear to be handwritten. Speech bubbles appear on some pages as well, to give voice to Wilfred and several other characters. The illustrations are a combination of oil paint onto old linotype, painted landscapes, and technical enhancements. The characters are whimsical and bright, and the appealing landscapes carry readers along on this journey of two unlikely friends. This Moose Belongs to Me will be adored by younger elementary students, particularly those who have longed to keep a wild animal as a pet.-Amy Shepherd, St. Anne's Episcopal School, Middleton, DE (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
Moose are not necessarily the best pets--except when it really matters. Wilfred carefully teaches his moose, whom he names Marcel, all the rules for being a good pet. Marcel follows some of them. He knows to be quiet when Wilfred is listening to music, for example, but sometimes he roams too far from home. Still, Marcel is a good companion, providing shelter in the rain and reaching high into trees for fruit. Then calamity strikes. Wilfred discovers that Marcel actually belongs to another, causing Wilfred to run home in anger and get lost. To the rescue comes Marcel the moose, strutting nobly on his four thin but strong legs. The boy learns a valuable lesson about wild animals: "[P]erhapshe'd never really owned the moose anyway." Jeffers has set his cautionary tale in the beautiful Rocky Mountains using "a mishmash of oil painting onto old linotype and painted landscapes and a bit of technical wizardry thrown into the mix." The result is an eye-catching and imaginative book with illustrations that vary from close-ups of the imposing moose against a white background to landscapes of the moose standing tall in his very own Albert Bierstadt painting. Pet lovers and nature lovers alike will enjoy this offbeat and entertaining tale. (Picture book. 4-7)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
