Review by New York Times Review
Three picture books evoke the joy of adventure and discovery, without the interference of fearful adults. BEYOND THE POND Written and illustrated by Joseph Kuefler 40 pp. Balzer & Bray. $17.99. (Picture book; ages 4 to 8) THE TEA PARTY IN THE WOODS Written and illustrated by Akiko Miyakoshi 32 pp. Kids Can Press. $16.95. (Picture book; ages 3 to 7) THE LITTLE GARDENER Written and illustrated by Emily Hughes 40 pp. Flying Eye Books. $17.95. (Picture book; ages 3 to 7) ON MY WALK to the studio each morning, I pass a busy playground. Recently I overheard one mother telling another: "Thank God! I found him! He was hiding." She held the sheepish child firmly by the wrist. I have felt the intense panic of temporarily losing a child, but nonetheless I shot the kid a sympathetic glance. It's hard to be an explorer these days. Summer camps and preschools tout "exploration" as part of their agenda, as long as you wear a brightly colored uniform T-shirt, never stray out of sight and explore only things that have already been thoroughly explored. Thank goodness for picture books. It seems we may have arrived at - or returned to - an age in picture books where the children depicted are free to explore the limits of their imagination unrestricted by adult fears for their safety. Over the years, cautious editors have asked me to draw in helmets and seatbelts and parents. Once, on an image of a child looking out at the moon, I was told to add safety bars to the window. I'm happy to present three new books that are refreshingly free of such constraints. Ernest D., in Joseph Kuefler's "Beyond the Pond," decides today is the day he's going to explore the depths of the pond behind his rather dull house. His trusty dog by his side, he gathers a very pleasing array of explorer supplies: butterfly net, camera, sword, chocolate; all of which, in a satisfying abandon of logic, fit into a tiny backpack. "And with that, Ernest D. dove ... down between the fishes and the frogs, past the squid and sharks and shapeless things, into his pond forever deep." On a glorious two-page spread, inky waters, elegant weedy fronds and balletic squid are illuminated by a dramatic beam of light from Ernest's flashlight. He dives deeper and deeper, to emerge at last in a magical, parallel world, inhabited by dinosaurs and koalas and a mouse riding a unicorn. (The world is described as big and raucous, but the pastel-hued, misty illustration suggests quite a serene scene.) "All this was hiding in a pond,' said Ernest D. ?How exceptional.'" When our hero returns home, he finds the world "wasn't quite as he'd left it." Spring has sprung, or maybe he's just seeing everything with fresh eyes. Kuefler's digitally layered illustrations are reminiscent of Jon Klassen's and are spare enough that inconsistencies from page to page niggle. But the book has a knockout cover, there's wit in the details, and the before-and-after aerial views make thoughtful endpapers. Kikko, the child in Akiko Miyakoshi's "The Tea Party in the Woods," also sets out alone into the unknown. She is on a mission to catch up with her father, who has forgotten to take a pie intended for Kikko's grandmother, whose house lies on the other side of the woods. Overnight snowfall has transformed the world into a still, quiet, black-and-white place, beautifully rendered in smudgy charcoal and pencil, warmed by Kikko's red accessories and yellow hair. Miyakoshi's illustrations are quietly magical. Viewed close up, they seem to be made of simple grainy marks, but if you hold the book at arm's length, the drawings take on the appearance of selectively tinted old photographs. Kikko spies a man ahead in a long coat. She runs to him but falls and crushes the pie box. She struggles on, following him to an unfamiliar house. As he takes off his hat she realizes it's not her father at all, but a bear! Curious, Kikko enters a surreal tea party of woodland creatures, who stare at her with arresting, unblinking expressions. There is something wonderfully unsettling and reassuring about this scene. Although they walk upright and wear clothes, these wild boars and rabbits, badgers and deer have an animal countenance. They don't wink or grin or give high fives. They welcome her to join their feast without much change of expression. If you've ever looked a wild animal in the eye, you'll recognize how this benign acceptance feels like a gift. The animals escort Kikko to Grandma's house, in a joyful parade through the snow. "My dear, did you come all this way on your own?" Grandma asks, and Kikko replies, smiling, "You're never alone in the woods." It's a gem of a book, with just enough Grimm foreboding and a suitably enigmatic ending. The title character in Emily Hughes's "The Little Gardener" is a tiny child who lives in a little straw house, in a forest of giant plants, with a pet worm for company. His garden means everything to him. "It was his home. It was his supper. It was his joy." He works "very, very hard," but the weeds are relentless and his seedlings wither. It's an overwhelming task for one so small. Hughes's illustrations thrum with life. The drawings are a tangle of Gauguin and Rousseau and botanical journals. They remind me of a rain forest floor - the closer you look, the more you see until the whole image seems to writhe. With this in mind, I have a small issue with the opening of the book. The illustration that accompanies the words "This was the garden. It didn't look like much" looks to me like a lot. It's a beautiful William Morris-y pattern of exotic plants growing out of black, volcanic-looking soil. But we learn from the text that the garden is dying. The gardener's only success is a magnificent red zinnia, which gives him hope. But it seems hope is not enough, and one night, feeling defeated, he sends a tiny wish out into the garden: "I wish I had a bit of help." Nobody hears his words, but a girl who lives in the big house nearby sees his flower and is inspired. As the exhausted little gardener sleeps through a whole month, the girl enlists a friend and together they nurture the garden into spectacular bloom. When the little gardener wakes up, his world has been transformed into a dark, rich forest of flowers. He returns to work, as diligent as ever, but there's new reverence and gratitude on all sides for this labor of love. Last summer I visited my boyfriend's childhood home in New Hampshire. Behind the house, he told me, was a forest that he explored - fearlessly - when he was 6. It was vast and limited only by his imagination. The forest, it now became clear, was no more than three trees deep. The neighbor's trimmed lawn could be seen through the undergrowth. We walked through it all the same and saw, at the foot of a tree, a carefully arranged circle of pebbles. SOPHIE BLACKALL is the illustrator, most recently, of "A Fine Dessert."
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [September 6, 2015]
Review by Booklist Review
This lovely picture book is a tribute to imagination and the wonder in everyday spaces. Ernest D. leaves his ordinary house with too little fun to investigate the backyard pond. After a little probing with a long stick, he concludes that his pond has no bottom, and he decides to go exploring. He dons his deep-sea diving helmet and dives down, down, down, past turtles, frogs, squid, sharks, and sunken ships, and finally resurfaces on the other side. There he finds an amazing new world with wonderful things to discover, ghoulish and ghastly things to be faced, and endless surprises around every corner. The mixed-media illustrations employ softly muted colors that complement the dreamy, otherworldly feel of the sparely written story, while background details hint at additional stories and links to his real-life backyard. The quirky cadence of the lilting text makes this a great candidate for a read-aloud, and the happy ending, a return to his surroundings, now a little less ordinary, will resonate with young readers.--McBroom, Kathleen Copyright 2015 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Newcomer Kuefler reveals an impressive toolbox of visual storytelling skills in a story whose wide-eyed characters and broad washes of limpid hues carry echoes of Jon Klassen and Wes Anderson. His hero, Ernest D., bored of his house and his town, gazes into the pond in his backyard, trying unsuccessfully to sound its depths. It's bottomless, he realizes, and he leaps for joy: "Oh, how exceptional!" He and his trusty dog dive in, and the camera pulls back to reveal, with a grin, dark, deep water where the shadows of sharks and squid lurk. Equipped with a flashlight, camera, and wooden sword, the two emerge to find a parallel world crammed with all the adventure a bold child could want, from a tiny mouse astride a unicorn to a terrifying, gigantic clawed paw that reaches out to grab him. When Ernest D. and his dog return, "His town looked a little less ordinary... Beyond every street and silent corner was a place unexplored." It's a witty, auspicious debut. Ages 4-8. Agent: Elena Giovinazzo, Pippin Properties. (Oct.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
K-Gr 2-Kuefler answers the age-old question, "What lies beneath?" in this tale of transformation and wonder. Ernest D. is a curious boy living in an ordinary house. He is also in need of something fun to do. So one day, he decides to explore the depths of his pond. His unsuccessful attempts to plumb it using a stick, a fishing pole, and a stone lead him to conclude that his pond must be bottomless. Thrilled by this realization, he gathers exploration gear and dives in with his dog. At first, they are met with familiar pond life-fish and frogs-but soon some unexpected discoveries reveal themselves: squid, sharks, and sunken treasures. Eventually, Ernest surfaces into a fantastical world. Here dinosaurs roam the Earth with squirrels, monkeys, and a mouse riding a miniature unicorn. Then these joyous sights give way to scary shadows, bats, and monsters. In a scene reminiscent of Sendak's Max and his Wild Things, Ernest D. bravely banishes the brutes and is rewarded with a magnificent rainbow sunrise. Now completely satisfied with his "exceptional" discovery, he swims back to his end of the pond, where his house and all that surround it no longer seem ordinary at all. Ernest D.'s change in perception is reflected in color and detail. In the beginning, his world is empty and gray. Upon his return, light and life abound. Kuefler uses a combination of mixed media and photographed textures in his digital illustrations on heavy matte paper to create a nearly tangible reading experience. VERDICT Fans of Mac Barnett's Sam and Dave Dig a Hole (Candlewick, 2014), visionaries, and adventurers alike will appreciate this imaginative offering.-Lynn Van Auken, Oak Bluffs School, Oak Bluffs, MA © 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
When Ernest D. and his dog discover that the pond behind his ordinary house has no bottom, they decide to explore its unchartered depths. Surfacing on the other side, they find a fantasyland. The premise isn't new, but Kuefler's soft color palette, with its muted hues and small bursts of red, is visually pleasing. (c) Copyright 2016. 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
Ernest D. transcends the ordinary by diving deep into his pond, encountering fantastic scenes that ultimately enhance his appreciation of home. Determined, accompanied by his imperturbable terrier, Ernest D. dives down, "past the squid and sharks and shapeless / things, into his pond forever deep." Kuefler's digital images portray this backyard pond's depths as the inky, lightless sea. Ernest D., sporting a vintage diver's helmet, red flippers, and a knapsack full of supplies, emerges from the pond "on the other side"a disjointed fantasy land populated by a baboon, dinosaurs, squirrels, stylized plant forms, and a bird that carries boy and dog aloft. This land's not merely odd, but "ghoulish / and ghastly." Bats, a spider, and a giant lend a temporary scariness to a few spreads, as Ernest D. bravely "battled and brawled / until the moon ducked low." Surveying a dawn-pink, rainbow-and-koala-enhanced tableau, the boy reflects that "All this was hiding in a pond. / How exceptional." Diving home, he emerges back into a world that "looked a little less ordinary / Beyond every street and silent corner was a place / unexplored." The narrative, while occasionally evocative, renders Ernest D. as a contrivance rather than a compelling character. Spreads occasionally recall Jon Klassen's technique and Irwin Hasen's "Dondi" comic strips. Glints of potential elevate an otherwise derivative, digitally composed debut. (Picture book. 4-8) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
