Review by New York Times Review
WHAT IS THE secret to snow's alchemy - its power to transform any ordinary street into its own world? Backyards, driveways and rooftops take cover under white and everything is changed. Snow means gloves and boots and anticipation. It doubles your speed downhill, then cushions your fall at the bottom. It makes it much harder for school buses to reach their destination. But as three new books show, our captivation lies in something more than the break from routine and the opportunity for daredevil stunts. We make snowmen, we make angels, we build fortresses and we leave our footsteps wherever we go. After it snows, we sculpture the world around us, carving out stages upon which our imaginations perform. In "The Snow Rabbit," by Camille Garoche, two sisters alone in a wintry country house admire snowflakes, bare branches and exotic winter flowers just outside a large paneled window. The fact that there are no words in this book only adds to the scene's enchantment. It's not until several pages into the story that we learn one of the sisters uses a wheelchair; suddenly their admiration for what is happening outside feels more like longing. The art, meticulously crafted with handcut paper and photographed like a miniature stage set, is layered and charmingly precise. While the girl in the wheelchair waits inside, obscured and out of focus, her sister steps into the yard and creates a snowball which, after some shaping, becomes a real rabbit. That's when the adventure begins as the sisters - with bunny in tow - explore a forest of unexpected magic. Eventually the rabbit takes to hopping on its own, leading the girls farther into the dark woods. Each spread reads like a still frame of an animated feature. Garoche manages to keep the reader engaged in a sequence where the sisters chase the rabbit for several pages. When the wheelchair becomes stuck in the ice, layers of hand-cut trees twist and contort and sets of narrow eyes peer from the shadows. It's a wonderfully eerie moment, though the art feels less cinematic and lacks the lighting and color needed to capture the mood. But soon our hero the rabbit returns, 10 times its original size. It is, after all, a rabbit born from a snowball and bound by the exponential properties of the snowball effect. At last the girl is untethered from her chair, either by magic or by the two girls' imaginations. She mounts the snow rabbit and becomes a triumphant and whimsical rider of the winter night. They travel home and say farewell to their snowy friend. Garoche's hand-cut miniature sets and wordless storytelling are impressive even if capturing them through a lens is a challenge. With more careful use of the camera and more dynamic lighting, I could read (or rather look at) her stories for hours. While Garoche has created a narrative without words, Emily Jenkins's "Toys Meet Snow," illustrated by Paul O. Zelinsky, is a story without people. Three toys: Lumphy, a stuffed buffalo; StingRay, who is of course a plush sting ray; and Plastic, a somewhat mysteriously named rubber ball, sit in an empty house, watching the first snowfall of the year. Their playmate, whom the book calls the Little Girl, is on vacation and has left the toys to fend for themselves. With childlike fascination, they attempt to unpack the true meaning of snow, and in the process, understand life. We've met these characters before, in Jenkins's chapter book trilogy that began with "Toys Go Out." Now, however, Zelinsky's illustrations are full scale and in color, rather than the occasional black-and-white plates of the chapter books. The storytelling is necessarily more compressed, and it's wonderfully poetic, especially the logic of StingRay, whose explanation of the natural world will put a smile on any reader's face. The humor comes from the rubber ball acting as a foil to StingRay's refreshing insights, comically oversimplifying life's mechanics. When StingRay declares that snow is "a blanket of peace over the world," Plastic fires back, "No, it's frozen water." The three toys manage to leave the house, prancing about Zelinsky's dense and textured landscapes. With digital brushes, Zelinsky creates an impressionistic view of winter - spongelike dabs of color crystallize on tree branches, porch steps and patches of snow. In between rich double-page paintings, playful panels of sequential art make plain just how awkward and entertaining it is for toys to move on their own. All the while, white painterly marks whirl through the sky. A pink-as-a-strawberry sunset finally changes the rubber ball's outlook on life, but by that point the reader will already be there, waiting blissfully in the snow. In "Snow," written and illustrated by Sam Usher, the blank page transforms into a pristine sheet of snow, while the artist's wonderful array of washes and inky lines tiptoe into view from the margins. A boy hopes to be the first to puncture the morning's powdery crust, but he must first wait for his granddad to get ready. His desire to leave the house intensifies as he prods and persuades without success. Soon, the other neighborhood kids and their dogs go to the park, leaving behind a trail of mucky scribbles and spongy strokes. The boy might as well be the last kid on earth to make it outside. Anticipation transforms to absurdity when Sam notices a monkey heading down the street. By the time he and his granddad meet the others outside, an entire zoo of animals has joined the fun. Readers might puzzle whether or not the giraffe, elephant and other creatures are intended to be imaginary, perhaps the boy's own toys, or actual escaped zoo convicts, but does it really matter? Snow has a way of reshaping our reality, and it's in that sensation of wonder that Usher's truth lies. He has created the feeling that when it snows, something unexpected and magical might lurk outdoors; perhaps even a hippo or two. CHRISTOPHER SILAS NEAL illustrated "Over and Under the Snow," by Kate Messner. His new book, "Everyone," will be out next year."
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [November 24, 2015]
Review by Booklist Review
Lumphy the toy buffalo, StingRay the plush stingray, and Plastic the red ball who were first introduced in Jenkins and Zelinsky's Toys Go Out (2006) are striking out on their first picture-book adventure. Having been left at home while the family is on vacation, the three toys stare out the window in awe of the season's first snowfall. Lumphy is full of questions about the snow; StingRay answers poetically (the clouds are sad and happy at the same time), while Plastic is more matter of fact (it's what rain becomes when the temperature is freezing). Soon the friends decide that the best way to learn about snow is to go play in it, so out they go. Expressive illustrations by Caldecott winner Zelinsky (Rapunzel, 1997) are rich in color and texture, occasionally splitting the page into panels to effectively depict action sequences or differences in the toys' perspectives. Simple and cozy with just the right amount of wonder, this story offers a look at the pleasures snow brings and its transformative effect on the world.--Smith, Julia Copyright 2015 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
The buffalo, stingray, and rubber ball from the chapter book trilogy that began with Toys Go Out make their first appearance in a picture book, and they couldn't be more at home. As the toys watch snow fall from the house, ever-curious toy buffalo Lumphy asks why it snows. "Because the clouds are sad and happy at the same time," says StingRay ("She is more poetic than factual," Jenkins writes), while pragmatic Plastic, the red ball, explains that it is simply frozen rain: "I read about it in a book." The toys' personalities-inquisitive, romantic, matter-of-fact-seed the story with quiet humor as the toys venture outdoors (StingRay, who is "dry-clean only," slides into a plastic baggie first). Zelinsky's digitally created illustrations have a gauzy, painterly richness, and he divides several spreads into panels to show how the toys work together to open the front door (it takes "no small amount of effort...") or build a snowman. Just as the snowfall casts a spell over all three friends, this wonderfully understated story enchants from the first page. Ages 3-7. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
PreS-Gr 2-Converting their wildly successful "Toys" chapter books (Random) into picture book format, Jenkins and Zelinsky have crafted a story ideal for the younger set, ramping up the adorable factor, while retaining the whimsical spirit of the originals. With their owner, the Little Girl, away for winter vacation, plush animals StingRay and Lumphy the buffalo, along with their pal Plastic the bouncy red ball, suit up (Lumphy sports a mitten on his head, and "dry-clean only" StingRay outfits herself in a plastic bag) and head outside for their very first snow day. Naively knowledgeable StingRay confidently offers her own explanations for the world around them ("`[Snow is] a blanket of peace over the world'"), but Plastic gently corrects her ("`No, it's frozen water.. I read it in a book'"). The three friends take part in their own amusingly endearing versions of typical snow day activities-building a snowman and making snow angels-before watching the sunset and returning inside. By turns witty and tender, the digitally rendered, rich, painterly illustrations vividly conjure up a startlingly stunning winter wonderland, conveying its awe-inspiring beauty from the toy's-eye perspective. Zelinsky affectionately imbues these characters with a warmth that never veers toward the cloying, and his use of light and dark as day slowly turns to evening is masterly. The text is soothingly lyrical in its simplicity; relying on only a few lines of dialogue, Jenkins effectively gives each of the characters their own voice. VERDICT Utterly enchanting; a perfect bedtime read.-Mahnaz Dar, 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
While the Little Girl is off on a winter vacation, three of her toysstuffed animals StingRay and buffalo Lumphy, plus rubber ball Plasticsee the seasons first snowfall. As they do, these Toys Go Out to investigate the stuff. The illustrations, which are digital but resemble cotton-soft paintings in a wintry palette, take an active role in the storytelling. When Lumphy says, I need a hat, readers watch him pull a mitten onto his head. Theres a slapstick element here: attempts to reach the front doorknob are captured in five adjacent panels showing what readers will see as the friends amusingly flawed logic. In place of plot points, Jenkins supplies dialogue that ranges from the existential (Why does it decide to snow?) to the practical (I need a plastic baggie, says StingRayPoke me some air holes). By books end, the characters are well established: Lumphy is inquisitive (What is a sunset?), StingRay is fanciful (Its strawberry syrup pouring over the world to make it sweet before nightfall), and Plastic is cerebral (she doesnt say anything. She is thinking). This picture-book story doesnt have the forward momentum of Jenkins and Zelinskys Toys chapter books, which introduced these characters to an older audience, but it does have the same wit. nell beram(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
Three toys make their way out into their first snow. Lumphy (the stuffed buffalo) has so many questions about all that white; StingRay (the, um, stingray) and Plastic (the ball) offer up answers both fantastic and factual, respectively. When Lumphy asks, "I mean, what is a snowflake?" StingRay responds immediately, "A snowflake is a tiny ballerina," while Plastic asserts, "No, it's just really tiny frozen water....I read that, too." Plastic reads a lot. The wonderfully idiosyncratic trio works brilliantly together, playing with equally exciting imaginary and realistic hypotheses about snow, their unique personalities and intellectual strengths jiving all the while. Subdued illustrations with cool colors and rounded shapes evoke the comforting softness of a threadbare, beloved toy. Amusing vertical and horizontal paneled sequences show these toys working together fervently: opening a door, building a snowman, discerning a snow-laden tree and a strawberry sunset. Children come away seeing the value, pleasure, and benefits of different outlooks and sensibilities. They also see that questions, elaborate, unusual answers, and unearthed facts can cohere into one swirling, whirling, dazzling snowstorm of discovery. Snow never left you feeling warmer inside. (Picture book. 2-6) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
