Review by New York Times Review
DESPITE THE EFFORTS of story-time subversives as varied as Jo March, Tom Sawyer, the Mad Hatter, Madeline, Eloise, Ramona Quimby, the Cat in the Hat, Willy Wonka and the Stinky Cheese Man, namby-pambyism has for generations been a scourge of children's literature. The impulse to force-feed kids the bookish equivalent of steamed spinach is unlikely ever to fade, though our notions about what that should be continue to evolve. But in recent years an opposing virus has also infected the nursery library. You might call it peepee-poo-ism: the anxious, overeager impulse to engage children on what we adults think of as their own terms, lest they believe us uncool - or worse, and more to the point, old. I don't mean to imply that I myself am not always up for a well-turned scatological joke, but I am happy to be reviewing four new picture books that are surprising and subversive in all the best ways, and none of the dumb or easy ones. Is it possible that children's publishing has produced a quartet of classics in a single springtime? Future generations will be the judges of that, but all four books shine with sly spirit, high wit and subtle, non-showy intelligence, and all are crafty enough, as in any good playground design, to leave some wide-open spaces so that readers and listeners can fill in a few blanks for themselves, finding their own rhythms and making their own fun. The parents of the title family in "Meet the Dullards" are true to their surname - wan and dispassionate to an almost perverse degree, except that "perverse" implies some degree of liveliness. The Dullards do have one passion: protecting their three children, Blanda, Borely and Little Dud, from any stimulation whatsoever. The book's author, Sara Pennypacker, tosses them "quite a nasty surprise" on the very first page - the kids are looking at books! Mr. and Mrs. Dullard put a quick stop to that, giving their offspring "some nice blank paper to read instead," then retreat "to discuss the problem in private." Is the neighborhood to blame? "Last fall, remember, some leaves turned color," Mr. Dullard notes. "And now this," he adds, pointing out the window to "an upsetting commotion," which turns out to be a snail crossing the driveway. But moving to a second house is no help, what with scary new dangers such as neighbors who speak in exclamation points and - lurking in one room like the boogeyman in a more conventional spook-house tale - bright yellow wallpaper. With flowers ! "Meet the Dullards" made me laugh out loud, even when reading otherwise silently to myself. Reading it to a 5-year-old might provoke the giggle equivalent of a feedback loop; clearly there is much in this satire of helicopter parenting to which both sides of that divide can relate. I appreciated that Pennypacker resolves her story without forcing Mr. and Mrs. Dullard to embrace spontaneity and imagination and color and all the other things that movies and books always insist make life worth living. (Those things do make life worth living, but it's tiresome to keep hearing about it.) Pennypacker grants the Dullard parents their dignity and integrity, and melancholy too, as does the illustrator, Daniel Salmieri (of "Dragons Love Tacos" fame), who renders the grays in the family wardrobe with richness, texture and maybe even love. The title hero of Jon Agee's "It's Only Stanley" may or may not be a beagle, but he is clearly related to Snoopy, literature's most famous beagle, in spirit if not breed. His story takes place during the course of a single night, as his noisy, increasingly ambitious pursuits keep reawakening his owners, the Wimbledon family, sending groggy dad Walter off in his pajamas to investigate. "It's only Stanley," goes the refrain as Walter reports back to wife and kids. "He's howling at the moon." Or: "It's only Stanley. He fixed the oil tank." Or: " It's only Stanley. He's making catfish stew." The dog's nocturnal banging and clanking seems random, but Agee orchestrates it all toward a glorious, surprising and very funny climax, one in which he wisely decides not to use his words, as they might say in preschool, and lets his pictures take over. Stories with punch lines can grow old; this one, clever and open-ended, will bear repetition, and probably command it. "The Skunk" has an obvious antecedent in Dr. Seuss' "What Was I Scared Of?," the chapter in "The Sneetches and Other Stories" in which a nameless narrator is pursued by an empty pair of possibly malevolent pale green pants. Here, a nameless narrator is trailed by a skunk, even while taking a cab, attending the opera, going to a carnival and visiting a graveyard. Why? The silent skunk isn't saying. As you may remember, Dr. Seuss' tale ends with an implicit moral about reflexive prejudice, the narrator realizing the empty pair of pale green pants are just as scared of him as he is of them; friendship ensues. Mac Barnett's story ends on a more ambivalent note, but a very amusing and psychologically astute one - and who better to appreciate the mutability of obsession than kids? The great Patrick McDonnell's drawings are, as always, perfect down to the last scratchy line, and "The Skunk's" endpapers, whether the work of McDonnell or the book's designer, encapsulate the story with brilliant economy. I'd like to think they'll inspire at least one child to become a graphic designer. The mission in "Special Delivery" is simple: Sadie, the young heroine, wants to mail an elephant to her Great-Aunt Josephine, "who lives almost completely alone and could really use the company." Well, O.K., the mission isn't that simple, especially after a post office clerk explains that it would take a wheelbarrow's worth of stamps to mail an elephant - and how do you stick stamps on an elephant anyway? Not one to give up easily, intrepid Sadie soon finds herself flying a biplane with the elephant in the back seat; befriending an alligator; and enjoying a crime spree with a gang of monkey bandits, which is ended only by ice cream sandwiches. Keeping this kind of whimsy aloft can be tricky, like kite-flying in a variable breeze, and Philip C. Stead's deadpan text, in combination with Matthew Cordell's fanciful but grounded drawings, is a master class in how to make that work: letting out enough string so that the silliness can soar but at the same time keeping the line taut so the whole thing doesn't fly away or plunge back to earth. Happily, Sadie and elephant make it to Great-Aunt Josephine's in one piece, and in a nice little twist, we discover that Sadie has been even busier than we realized. Imagine Madeline escaped from Miss Clavel's supervision, or Eloise out from under Nanny's eye, and set loose in Wonderland in boring old Alice's place. More, please. BRUCE HANDY is a contributing editor at Vanity Fair.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [May 10, 2015]
Review by Booklist Review
*Starred Review* Agee and his simple, droll watercolors return with a work that manages to be absurdist, alarming, and just when you least expect it poignant. It begins with a husband and wife awakened by a noise. The man investigates, but it's just their nondescript little beagle, Stanley, howling at the moon. Back to bed, until the Wimbledons' first child arrives complaining of basement clanging. Dad checks it out; it's only Stanley on a stepladder, weirdly modifying the oil tank. Well, back to bed again, until the next child arrives with a beef about a weird smell: Stanley, in the kitchen with tubes and beakers, is mixing up something strange. And so it goes, child after child, complaint after complaint, with the expressionless Stanley continuing his bizarro behavior and technological tinkering. The Chris Van Allsburg stiffness is almost ominous when combined with the Edgar Allan Poe cadence: The Wimbledons were sleeping. / It was late as it could get, / When Wanda heard a buzzing noise / That made her all upset. The shocking twist is that Stanley has jiggered the house into a rocket, and the final rhyming word, moon remember how Stanley howled at it? is cleverly left unsaid, as the house lands on the moon, and Stanley holds paws with a cute pink moon-dog. Very strange, and very, very wonderful.--Kraus, Daniel Copyright 2014 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Stanley the beagle is a diehard fixer-upper, and for some reason he likes doing noisy chores in the middle of the night. One by one, he wakes up every member of the alliteratively named Wimbledon family, from parents Wilma and Walter to their four children. Agee (Terrific) establishes a rhythmic word-and-picture formula in which Walter goes downstairs on six separate occasions, checks on Stanley (always in a wordless spread), and reports back to his restless family: "The Wimble- dons were sleeping./ It was later than before./ When Wendy heard a clanking sound,/ Below her bedroom floor./ 'That's very odd,' said Walter./ Then they heard another clank!/ 'It's only Stanley,' Walter said./ 'He fixed the oil tank.' " Visual hints suggest that the industrious dog has more on his mind than home improvement, and rereadings shed light on Stanley's master plan to transform the Wimbledons' steeply pitched Victorian house into a rocket. As in Milo's Hat Trick, Agee appeals to connoisseurs of the absurd, and he shapes ridiculous developments into a tightly composed and satisfying picture book. Ages 5-8. Agent: Holly McGhee, Pippin Properties. (Mar.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
PreK-Gr 1-"The Wimbledons were sleeping. It was very, very late." Thus the stage is set for the peculiar night to come. These family members are periodically awakened by a spooky sound, a strange clanking, a funky smell, and a splashy sound. Each time, Mr. Wimbledon drags himself out of bed to investigate the noises, only to discover that their dog Stanley has been hard at work. Stanley fixes their oil tank and their old television. He clears the bathtub drain and makes catfish stew. As the Wimbledons become more and more exasperated in their quest for sleep, the final straw is the "KAPOW" explosion. With that, the family is off to the moon! The accompanying jazz song in the minor key and the sound effects enhance the mystery of the industrious pet. It is only at the end of the tale that listeners realize Stanley's first noise, his howling at the moon, is an indication of his intent. Narrator George Newbern mirrors perfectly the increasing incredulity that listeners will feel. VERDICT Agee's imaginative story line and characteristic magical wordplay are undeniably extremely entertaining. The repetition and rhyme will appeal to even the youngest of listeners.-Terri Perper, Olney Elementary School, MD © Copyright 2015. 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
The Wimbledon family cant sleep due to one noise (HOWOOO!) after another (CLANK CLANK CLANK). In each case, its the fault of their dog Stanley, whose onomatopoeic disturbances interrupt -- hilariously -- not just the sleep but the perfectly cadenced rhyming account of the increasingly bothered Wimbledons: The Wimbledons were sleeping. / It was late beyond belief, / When Wylie heard a splashy sound / That made him say: Good grief! As the night wears on, more and more family members are awakened, and Stanley shows himself to be one clever beagle (and over-the-moon in love). The thick lines and subdued colors in the illustrations bring out the storys considerable humor and focus readers attention on the ever-more-fantastical situations. Agee understands the drama of the page turn better than anyone, with vignettes of the increasingly crowded Wimbledon family bed giving way to full-bleed double-page spreads of Stanleys machinations until it all comes together (KAPOW!) to make everybody jump. Make sure your listeners have their seatbelts fastened. roger sutton (c) Copyright 2015. 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
The Wimbledon familymother, father, four children, a cat, and Stanley, a brilliantly inventive beaglehave a sleepless night. One by one, mother Wilma, daughters Wendy and Wanda, and sons Willie and Wylie rouse father Walter to investigate one peculiar sound after another. It turns out that "It's only Stanley," noisily at work cooking, fixing drains, the oil tank and an old TV, and occasionally howling at the moon. (Beagles are famous for baying.) But Stanley has a plan that will give them an adventure in near spacea trip to the moon in their house, now a rocket ship thanks to his romantic determination and his inventive genius. Agee's rhyming verse is set out in a rhythmic pattern that concludes each stanza after a wordless spread that illustrates Stanley's activities, heightening the humor and the humans' befuddlement. Each character has a distinct personality and is easily identifiable in the humorous washesespecially the worker dog, busily creating an almighty mess throughout the house. Stanley's mechanical inventions are full of detail that will captivate young tinkerers. Readers and listeners will enjoy the adventure and know what Stanley is up to before the final climactic sequence. Funjust plain fun. (Picture book. 6-8) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
