Review by New York Times Review
AS BOTH SUBJECTS and protagonists, animals seem to rule the world of children's books, and it's easy to see why. They are cute, recognizable and fun to imitate. They play a part in every child's life, sometimes a big one. But what about the toys and tools children use every day? These make more occasional literary appearances - in, for instance, classics such as "Corduroy," about a stuffed bear alone in a department store, or even "The Little Engine That Could," with its dolls and small clown - but they really deserve to be more frequent stars. Children have immediate associations with their treasured belongings in a way they might not with, say, a capybara. Three new books, all by prominent picture book authors, artfully use worldly possessions to approach larger themes, to varying degrees of success. "Waiting," by Kevin Henkes, who both illustrates and writes with a gentle and elegant style, creates an appealing cast of toys to get at the concept of waiting - a tough one to convey to a child. (The best I could do during a recent attempt with my 3-year-old daughter: "It's when you stay in one place until something happens." She was not impressed.) The subjects of this simple, graceful book - the ones doing the waiting - are five toys set on a window ledge, presumably in a child's bedroom: a pig in a dress; a teddy bear; a puppy; a spotted owl on a small pedestal; and a bunny head on a much longer, accordion-shaped one. Henkes, a winner of the Caldecott Medal (for "Kitten's First Full Moon") as well as a Caldecott Honor and two Newbery Honor awards, keeps the writing spare: "There were five of them," it begins. "And they were waiting." It turns out each toy is hoping for something different. The owl, true to its nocturnal nature, waits for the moon; the pig, who carries an umbrella, for the rain; the bear, holding a kite, for the wind; the puppy, set on a sled, for the snow. The rabbit "wasn't waiting for anything in particular. He just liked to look out the window and wait." (Sounds shifty to me.) Each eventually gets its wish in lovely, pastel-hued drawings. Like "Corduroy," "Waiting" is about the secret lives of toys, the stuff that happens when humans aren't around. They sleep, sprawled awkwardly across the ledge. A visitor arrives "from far away" - an elephant clad in an Indian get-up - and then leaves (it shatters after a fall, I'm sad to report). But what follows is the most charming section: wordless shots of the toys reacting to the changing vistas on the other side of the window. A rainbow yields wonder, lightning fear. It's all very mellow and sweet - and calming in a way that emphasizes the theme of patience. Drew Daywalt and Oliver Jeffers, the writer and illustrator of "The Day the Crayons Came Home," take a different approach to a kid's things. The book, a sequel to their still popular hit, "The Day the Crayons Quit," continues its predecessor's pleasing, goofy conceit: Crayons not only have consciousness, they can write, in crayon of course. Both books feature a series of postcards written to a boy named Duncan, their unseen owner, about their lives and, mostly, their discontents, paired with pictures illustrating their messages. (You have to wonder if today's kids even know what postcards are. I guess emails are far less visually appealing.) Confession: Despite its status as a long-time best seller, I found "The Day the Crayons Quit" to be one of those children's books that are probably funnier in concept and execution for the parent than for the kid (and, to be clear, it's very clever). "The Day the Crayons Came Home" is more of the same, for better and worse. Once again, both Daywalt's text and Jeffers's illustrations are endearing. "Dear Duncan," one postcard begins, "No one likes peas. No one even likes the color." The card is, of course, from the pea-green crayon, who declares he is running away to see the world and has changed his name to "Esteban ... the Magnificent! (the crayon formerly known as pea green)." The illustration has him proudly wearing a cape with a closed-eyed look of defiance on his face. He pops back up a few pages later, dwarfed by a human-size door, his hobo-style bindle lying sadly at his side. "Um ... could you please open the front door? I still need to see the world." There is a happy ending, of sorts. While for me the whole thing seems a bit too jokey and wordy for the picture book format, certainly fans of the first will enjoy the sequel. And fans of gimmicks will enjoy the page featuring the glow-in-the-dark crayon, which actually glows in the dark. There are no gimmicks in "On the Ball," by Brian Pinkney, another multiple award winner (including Caldecott Honors for "The Faithful Friend" and "Duke Ellington") with a distinct style. The story is simple: Owen is a young soccer enthusiast who is having trouble keeping his eye on the ball. So much so, in fact, that the ball escapes, and it's "up to Owen to chase it down ... and to get it back." Words take a back seat to Pinkney's energetic illustrations, which might best be described as very swirly. Owen himself is a bunch of swirls and squiggles, and as he follows his escaped ball, he encounters the swirliest of landscapes, rendered beautifully in watercolor: crashing ocean waves, green jungle, pastel clouds. In the process, he turns into a tiger to chase the ball through the jungle, grows wings to follow it through the clouds and, finally, becomes a more confident soccer player. While Pinkney's style leans toward the abstract, it's remarkable how evocative the renderings of Owen's body are - by the end, he really looks like an accomplished young soccer player. There are actually two messages in the book. The obvious one is: Keep your eye on the ball and you'll find your natural ability. But in Owen's case, that also means letting his imagination roam free. It's a tender melding of athletic ambition and youthful inventiveness - and a reminder that simply embracing the stuff in a child's everyday life can be a powerful way into his or her imaginative one. DAN SALTZSTEIN is an editor in the Travel section of The Times.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [August 23, 2015]
Review by Booklist Review
*Starred Review* A pig with an umbrella, a spotted owl, a puppy on a sled, a bear holding a kite, and a rabbit with a long accordion body. These five little toys look out a tall window at nothing much, waiting. Pig waits for rain; Owl, the moon; Bear, the wind; Puppy, the snow; and Rabbit just waits. One day they are joined by a round wobble of a cat. She tumbles over and out come nested cats of decreasing size, who join the friends on the windowsill to wait and watch. Quiet yet evocative, this is a lovely melding of artwork, design, and text. The pictures, executed in a soft palette of brown ink, watercolors, and colored pencils, get a suitable home on buff-colored pages. The thoughtful design begins on the jacket, where the window, its panes accentuated by a shiny gloss, allows the toys to view clouds reflecting altered views of their own images: Pig's umbrella floats through the sky, while the staid owl soars with wings spread. The short sentences of the text flow with the precision one would expect from a master picture-book creator like Henkes. Little ones, to whom each experience is new, will know what it's like to dream and wait. HIGH-DEMAND BACKSTORY: Caldecott medalist and Newbery Honor Book author Henkes is a favorite among librarians and booksellers (and, of course, children). Any new book will spark demand from his fans.--Cooper, Ilene Copyright 2010 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Waiting can make anyone feel helpless and frustrated, so the five toylike knickknacks in Henkes's (Penny and Her Marble) story should be at their collective wits' end. Perched on a windowsill, this odd, diminutive crew-a pig with an umbrella, a bear with a kite, a puppy attached to a sled, a rabbit on an accordion spring, and an owl-have little volition of their own ("Sometimes one or the other of them went away, but he or she always came back"). But while their lives are spent waiting, their existence seems full and rich with meaning. Waiting reinforces their sense of identity: the pig waits for the rain and when it comes, "the pig was happy. The umbrella kept her dry." Waiting also connects them to each other: looking out the window together, "they saw many wonderful, interesting things," like frost on the windowpane or a sky lit up with fireworks. Henkes never tells readers explicitly what he's up to, and several incidents are wide open to interpretation-and that's what makes this enigmatic, lovely book intriguing and inimitable. Ages 4-8. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
PreS-K-Five toys sit on a windowsill, each waiting for something. There's an owl with spots waiting for the moon, a pig with the umbrella waiting for the rain, a bear with a kite waiting for the wind, and a puppy on a sled waiting for the snow. And then there's a "rabbit with stars," content to simply look out the window. With an economy of words and gently repeating patterns, the text informs readers about the emotional ups and downs of this tiny band of friends: what makes them happy (getting what they've waited for), what makes them sad (when one of them goes away), and what surprises them (gifts, visitors, new friends.) Along with happiness and friendship, there are small moments of grief, anxiety, and existential wonder-all thoughtfully and authentically depicted with childlike honesty and optimism. On thick, creamy pages, Henkes uses brown ink with touches of watercolor and colored pencil in muted shades of pink, green, and blue to depict the softly rounded figures, shown small before the expanse of the four-paned window. Henkes varies the compositions with vignettes and a four-page wordless sequence showing the beautiful (a rainbow, fireworks) and sometimes scary (lightning) sights that the toys observe from the vantage point of their windowsill. The careful placement of the text and images establishes a leisurely pace, encouraging readers and listeners to slow down, examine the pictures, and discuss. Are these sentient little beings or are they moved and posed by an unseen child? Henkes leaves it up to readers to determine. VERDICT Waiting further cements Henkes's place alongside picture book legends like Margaret Wise Brown, Crockett Johnson, and Ruth Krauss, through his lyrical text, uncluttered yet wondrously expressive illustrations, and utmost respect for the emotional life of young children.-Kiera Parrott, School Library Journal © 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
Waiting is a huge part of every childs life, and Henkes uses a light touch to address the topic. Five toys wait on a windowsill. An owl waits for the moon; a pig holding an umbrella waits for rain; a bear with a kite waits for wind; and a puppy on a sled waits for snow. The fifth toy, a rabbit head on a spring, wasnt waiting for anything in particular. He just liked to look out the window and wait. Henkess five friends are drawn with confident brown outlines filled in with a muted palette of light greens, blues, and pinks in colored-pencil and watercolor. A straightforward text sets up predictable patterns, while the design is varied, with horizontal and oval vignettes and full pages showing the entire windowincluding an especially striking sequence of four wordless pages. Time passes slowly, day to night, through wind, rain, and seasons, while small changes in the characters body positions and eyes show a range of emotions, from dismay (at lightning) to curiosity (at small trinkets added to the sill). Near the end, a large, rounded toy cat joins the quintet and waits forwhat? Suddenly, we see that she has four smaller nesting cats inside. The book ends as quietly as it began, with welcoming acceptance of the five new inhabitants on the now-crowded windowsill. Henkes provides no deep meanings and sends no messages; hes just showing what waiting can be like. Perhaps listeners will find a model for making long waits seem less tiresome: be still and notice whats around you. lolly robinson (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
Five toys ranged on a windowsill exemplify existential pleasure. In the mode of such pastel-hued, minimalist delights as A Good Day (2007), Henkes presents a pig with an umbrella, a bear with a kite, a puppy on a sled, an owl with spots, and a rabbit with stars (this last is depicted as a spring-loaded rabbit head, rather like the innards of a jack-in-the-box). Respectively, the first four wait for the rain, the wind, the snow, and the moon; the rabbit just likes waiting. Henkes keeps readers gently off-balance as to the nature of these toys' sentience. Sometimes, as when comically on their backs "sleeping," they seem stiff and immobile; other times, as when they huddle together during a thunderstorm, eyes wide and frightened, their bodies exude warmth and softness. Images are snapshots of single moments, and never is a child depicted; it is left to readers to decide whether the toys move on their own or have been posed by a hand outside the frame. The story is all about quietly filling in the gaps; though little appears to happen beyond the changing of seasons and arrival (and in one case, tragic departure) of other toys, the protagonists' contentment with just waiting is contagious. Waiting as a joyful activity in itself is almost never celebrated; this Zen-like meditation might win some converts. (Picture book. 3-6) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
