Review by Booklist Review
This charming story, illustrated in the style of Ludwig Bemelmans, is a celebration of following your passion, even if you are a bunny. It is no coincidence that since Desiree loves ballet, she wants to join the best ballet school in Paris. While the lady who runs the school insists, there are NO BUNNIES in the ballet, Mr. Cloud, the ballet master, sees something special in Desiree. And sure enough, she becomes an example to others: because of her hard work, she has a chance to shine. Beck's illustrations, relying heavily on minimal lines, swirl across the page when we see Desiree enthusiastically leaping and pirouetting, and they create unique faces and personalities when presenting characters. While the setting is understated, with lots of white space on the page as the backdrop to Desiree's dance moves, the use of soft pastels adds warmth to the surroundings. Young readers will become fans.--Ching, Edie Copyright 2010 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Desiree Rabbit lives in Paris and believes she was born to dance: "And though I had never heard of a bunny in the ballet, I wasn't going to let a little thing like that stop me." Like any good backstage story, the road is not easy: in ballet school Desiree is hazed by the imperious Madame Molotov and lands "in a tangled heap" when she attempts her first jump. But her determination and talent win over the human dancers, and when her big break comes during a performance of The Nutcracker, she delivers with elan. Debut author Beck's lightly arch voice, fluid ink lines, and deft washes of color give the pages a breezy stylishness. But while Desiree starts out as recognizably rabbitlike, imaginatively rendered with just a few appropriately balletic, curvi-linear lines, Beck decides she needs a more human body to carry off the tendu devant and grand jete, and she sprouts the long limbs and nipped-in torso of a classic ballerina. Readers are left with a character who resembles a tiny person wearing a bunny head. Ages 4-8. Agent: David Kuhn, Kuhn Projects. (Feb.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
K-Gr 2-Desiree is a driven and talented aspiring dancer in Paris. She only has one problem-bunnies are not allowed in the ballet. So what is a cottontail to do? Armed with a pink tutu, she braves multiple obstacles before finding her way into the spotlight. Although disguised as a book about perseverance and discrimination, this book is a sugary confection that pays tribute to the ballet and Paris. The character development is slight, and the bunny triumphs too quickly to make the conflicts feel serious. The book is written in a glib, effervescent tone: "They put false eyelashes on me, which felt very glamorous, and powder on my face, which felt very tickly." The illustrations are a perfect stylistic match to the text, with bubbly, swaying line drawings filled in with watercolor. Francophiles will appreciate the Eiffel Tower and interior design details, including pink telephones. The rabbit and human characters are drawn in a minimalistic, sketchy style without any facial details other than dashes for eyes. The quick lines capture dance movement eloquently, demonstrating the expertise of the author/illustrator, a ballet dancer himself. Children may appreciate the naive nature of the illustrations, since they resemble a child's artwork. Relevant vocabulary, such as "tendu devant," "passe," and "grand jete," are illustrated and demonstrated for those who are new to the art. Ballet-loving children and the Francophile adults who read to them may gravitate toward this title, but its story line and character development aren't particularly memorable.-Jess deCourcy Hinds, Bard High School Early College, Queens, NY (c) Copyright 2014. 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
When aspiring ballerina bunny Disirie signs up for lessons, she is told that "there are NO BUNNIES in the ballet." She perseveres and gets her big break: filling in for the sick Sugar Plum Fairy. Loose-lined, somewhat abstract ink and watercolor illustrations (which oddly portray Disirie by turns as a chubby rabbit and a long-legged, anthropomorphic one) accompany the humorous text. (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
Toe shoes and tutus are the stuff of dreams for a rabbit. Parisian Dsire Rabbit tells her story in the first person. She has been dancing from childhood and knows that she is destined to be a ballerina. Unfortunately, the receptionist at the ballet school is adamant in her opposition. Madame Molotov (more correctly "Madame Molotova," and even then, what an odd choice of names) states that "there are NO BUNNIES in the ballet." Not one to give up, Dsire shows off her many moves, and the ballet master sees talent and drive. She practices, she rehearses, and she gets a role as a pet rabbit in The Nutcracker, dropping all her carrots with excitement at the honor. In an all-too-familiar moment, a featured dancer is injured, and Dsire hops in to applause and acclaim. Beck, a former dancer, borrows from such classics as 42nd Street for his oft-told tale of the chorine/corps member achieving stardom. His ink-and-watercolor artwork depicts dancers and Parisian scenes with swift, loose strokes against a white background. These lines look more preliminary than finished, and they suggest rather than demonstrate ballet steps. Though they evoke movement, such a treatment is not acceptable for a dance form that is so precise with its arm and leg placements. And the bunny in her tutu has lost all her plump appeal. Alas, not the stuff of dreams for balletomane readers. (Picture book. 4-7)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
