Review by New York Times Review
IT'S not always easy to follow your heart. It can mean challenging the status quo, defying others' expectations or, sometimes, discovering that those harboring strong preconceptions had you pegged correctly all along. And while children learn early on that a leopard can't change his spots, it's equally important to remember that each pattern is unique. Three new picture books explore the nuances of individuality through the exploits of feral creatures who aren't always what they appear to be - except, of course, when they are. In the opening pages of "Mr. Tiger Goes Wild," the author-illustrator Peter Brown depicts his hero as a bright pop of orange in a sepia-toned, quasi-Victorian city of bipedal deer and penny-farthing-riding squirrels clad in top hats, starched collars and overcoats. The stiffly anthropomorphized creatures maintain smug, sniffy expressions as they raise teacups, greet one another tepidly and admonish playful young rhinos, bears and pigs not to "act like wild animals." (Though his emerald-eyed, stoic expression never wavers, Mr. Tiger clearly gets the irony.) As Brown showed in 2009's "The Curious Garden," in which a small patch of urban green tended by a determined boy named Liam eventually transforms an entire city, a revolution can begin with a single, small act of defiance. One day, Mr. Tiger gets the "very wild idea" to adopt an all-fours stance, and things quickly progress: soon, he's scaling row houses and skinny-dipping in the public fountain. A two-page spread shows just how far he's come - wearing nothing but his stripes, he puffs out his chest and meets the reader's gaze with a slightly surprised and utterly joyful "Here I am!" expression. When his fed-up fellow citizens sternly suggest that if he must continue this behavior, he "kindly do so in the WILDERNESS!" the newly liberated cat complies with gusto. "What a magnificent idea!" he roars, gleefully escaping to a Rousseau-like tableau of dense ferns, soaring palms and cascading waterfalls. (Whether by coincidence or design, Henri Rousseau's 1891 painting "Tiger in a Tropical Storm [Surprised!]" marked the debut of the artist's famed jungle scenes, earning him the first serious review of his career.) Magnificent solitude has its price, however, and Mr. Tiger soon arrives at a second revelation: "He missed his friends. He missed the city. He missed his home." The return journey is a lesson in compromise, which isn't the same thing as defeat. Rather, Mr. Tiger chooses a middle path, and his neighbors meet him halfway. "how to hide a lion" finds another wild animal in an environment intolerant of his very nature. Originally published in Britain, the story begins innocently enough: "One hot day, a lion strolled into town to buy a hat." The noble beast has a curious, friendly look about the face, but one glance at the fearful townsfolk - this being a conventionally real-world burg inhabited by human beings - tells the reader that the excursion will not go as planned. As startled by the defensive villagers as they are terrified of him, the lion runs off, and lands in the backyard of a girl named Iris, who, as luck would have it, "wasn't scared of lions." Using a nostalgic style and subdued palette reminiscent of midcentury Little Golden Books masters like Richard Scarry - whose cover for 1956's "Winky Dink" also featured a honey-hued lion offset by a similar robin's-egg-blue background - the author-illustrator Helen Stephens shows how the pair's friendship develops just outside the myopic view of Iris's parents, even as the girl's mother lounges, barefoot in her armchair, reading a tabloid with the front-page headline "Lion on the Run." Despite the endless capacity for cluelessness among the adults in children's books, Iris and the lion are eventually found out, and the great cat flees. from here, the plot follows a reassuringly familiar path: the lion hides in plain sight downtown, between two Patience-and-Fortitude-like stone cousins, a vantage point that allows him to keep an eye on Iris and on the town hall. When two burglars break in and steal "every single one of the mayor's candlesticks," the lion pounces, nabbing the thieves and redeeming his reputation. Stephens wraps up her story neatly, with an affectionate callback to its very first page. Iris's gentle admonishment to her parents - "I told you he was a kind lion" - feels less a rebuke than a reminder to approach the unknown not with prejudgment, but with an open heart. As in Stephens's tale, the central characters of "Carnivores" suffer from a public relations problem - though in this case they've earned it. Fractured fairy tales and subverted expectations pervade children's literature, but as much as we may want to sympathize with Aaron Reynolds's beleaguered lion when "the wildebeests call him 'bad kitty,'" the fact remains: "He's eaten half the neighborhood." The great white shark is wounded by talk of "feeding frenzies"; after all, he claims (unconvincingly) "he's simply a fast eater." These two, along with the timber wolf who "almost never eats little girls," make a radical decision: "We'll go vegetarian!" Meeting in an A.A.-like setting, complete with desperately clutched coffee mugs and chalk-scrawled slogans like "29 Days Without Meat," the carnivore support group's efforts nonetheless fail. The wolf tries to survive on a diet of berries, but "every single berry bush seemed to have a bunny inside." The shark, determined to eat only seaweed, finds it leaves "a horrible kelpy aftertaste in his mouth." Despite the predators' ongoing efforts, their carnivorous tendencies assert themselves with renewed zeal. Dan Santat's animation background - he created the Disney television series "The Replacements" - manifests in his wild-eyed, mixed-media illustrations, which look as though they could bound right off the page and onto the screen. Reynolds, who pulled off a lighthearted "Who's the real monster?" twist at the end of 2012's "Creepy Carrots" (illustrated with Hitchcockian verve by Peter Brown), here takes a turn for the dark - and then goes darker still. A clue may be found in his author bio, which confesses six years of vegetarianism followed by the veritable zoo of animals he's consumed since. This is no sweet story of finding one's muse or looking beyond appearances; instead, "Carnivores" puts a somewhat macabre spin on the "follow your heart" theme, and it also imparts a corollary: "Listen to your stomach." CAROLYN JURIS is associate children's book editor at Publishers Weekly.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [November 10, 2013]
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
The lion, the great white shark, and the timber wolf are tired of being disrespected by those lower than them on the food chain. "The wildebeests call him `bad kitty' just because he's eaten half the neighborhood," says the sympathetic narrator of the lion. "It hurts. It really does." They try vegetarianism, only for the wolf to discover, "Every single berry bush seemed to have a bunny inside." They disguise themselves as upstanding members of their preys' species, but the great white shark can't resist turning a pod of dolphins into takeout. Leave it to a wise great horned owl to give the hapless trio sage advice on living as meat-eaters: own it. Reynolds (Creepy Carrots) and Santat (Crankenstein) do likewise, making the most of their flair for comic timing, visual exaggeration, and spoofing everything from foodie trends to self-actualization. Clearly, there's still plenty of room in the irreverent and decidedly Darwinian humor territory pioneered by the likes of Jon Scieszka and Lane Smith. Ages 5-8. Author's agent: Paul Rodeen, Rodeen Literary Management. Illustrator's agent: Jodi Reamer, Writers House. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
K-Gr 2-"They're not bad. They're carnivores. Eating meat is just what they do." Putting together a beautifully illustrated picture book with engaging narration is like watching a movie in 3-D. In this case no special glasses are necessary, you just need the right device and a little imagination. Narrator L.J. Ganser creates humorous personalities for three of nature's fiercest predators through voice and tone. Listeners meet calm and concerned Lion, frantic and worried Shark, and Wolf, a laidback surfer who just wants to hang ten. Of course they feel the stigma of their lifestyles; being at the top of the food chain can be lonely, and they have feelings too. In an effort to fit in they try in vain to be vegetarians and wear disguises. When all else fails they consult the wisest carnivore, the Great Horned Owl. Owl reminds them that "eating meat is just what they do." The journey to self-discovery isn't always easy, and it is okay to seek out advice. Listeners will connect with these comically drawn characters as they learn to be true to themselves and accept who they are. This set is a worthwhile addition for all public and school libraries.-Terri Norstrom, Cary Area Library, IL (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 Horn Book Review
Tired of being ostracized for their bad behavior, the lion, the great white shark, and the timber wolf set out to fit in but ultimately find that you can't deny who you are. Santat's signature humor diffuses the threat of Reynolds's ferocious heroes, and readers will laugh out loud at the depictions of carnivores disguising themselves as (and then devouring) gentler creatures. (c) Copyright 2014. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
Poor carnivores, perched atop the food chain and dissed by all their victims--at least, the prospective ones. What a pity. Brought together by their hurt feelings, a lion ("The wildebeests call him bad kitty' "), great white shark ("simply a fast eater") and timber wolf ("almost never eats little girls") take up vegetarianism in an effort to fit in and then try donning disguises. When neither strategy butters the biscuit, they turn to a great horned owl as a carnivore consultant. Proving himself as wise as he (later) is delicious, the owl leads them to a healthier attitude, to wit: "I'm not bad. I'm a carnivore. Eating meat is just what I do." Surrounded by pastel bunnies and other wide-eyed prey in Santat's big, comical illustrations, the three caricatured predators quickly go from slump-shouldered gloom to toothy, confident smiles as they realize the folly of judging themselves through the eyes of others. Will young readers swallow such a tongue-in-cheek take on the importance of self-acceptance? With relish. (Picture book. 6-8)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
