Review by New York Times Review
"SNOW," WRITES THE British environmental artist Andy Goldsworthy, who creates ephemeral sculpture from snowballs and ice, "provokes responses that reach right back to childhood." For all but the most jaded, a coating of the white stuff is enough to make our familiar world look tantalizingly new and strange again, much as children experience it 24/7. No wonder classic picture-book artists like Ezra Jack Keats ("The Snowy Day") and William Steig ("Brave Irene") found inspiration in wintry weather, as do more than a few writers and illustrators for children working today. "First Snow," the Korean illustrator Bomi Park's debut picture book, is an assured and enchanting fantasy that reveals fresh secrets with each page turn. The cozy cover image of a wide-eyed toddler playing outdoors in the snow hardly hints at the dreamlike adventure to follow, in which the little girl rolls an everlarger snowball through village streets, past farm fields, and finally deep into the forest. There the narrative - carried forward in a few words and Park's meticulously observed, soft-focus illustrations - takes first one unexpected and altogether magical turn, then another, and another. What appears at the start to be a quiet little story proves in the end to be just the opposite: an inviting springboard to make-believe. While for Park a snowy landscape is a winter wonderland not to be missed, "Before Morning" makes the case that home is the place to be when the temperature plummets. Joyce Sidman voices a wish well known to schoolchildren: the dream scenario of a snowfall deep enough to keep everyone housebound. A keenly perceptive poet, Sidman shows that words and snow both have the power to transform our view of things: "Let the air turn to feathers, / the earth turn to sugar, / and all that is heavy/turn light." In an author's note, she explains that her 66-word lyric is an "invocation," a kind of secular prayer or spell that "invites something to happen." It was up to the illustrator Beth Krommes, the winner of the 2009 Caldecott Medal for "The House in the Night," to decide just what that "something" should be. Krommes is a master of scratchboard art, an exacting line technique that entails cutting into the black over-layer of a prepared surface to the white layer below to create a shimmering black-on-white image to which other colors can then be added. The visual back story Krommes has imagined for "Before Morning" takes us inside the comfortably cluttered home of a close-knit family. The mom we see there is a commercial airline pilot who is getting ready for work. Her young daughter, we realize, wishes that her mother would instead stay home with her. Love of family, Krommes suggests, may be one good reason to wish for a blizzard. The kinetic line-work of her rigorously stylized illustrations has almost the impact of a second back story, ft implies that the family vignette we've glimpsed is a small but integral part of a much larger narrative in which people, trees, cities, blizzards and the world at large are all entwined in one continuous living web. The elfin Antarctic dwellers of "Little Penguins" are a lot like preschoolers you may know: They savor the excitement of a good outdoor winter frolic, then, having had their fill of the cold, delight equally in the warmth and safety of home, which in their case is a nicely furnished igloo. Cynthia Rylant, winner of the 1993 Newbery Medal for "Missing May," is an exceptionally versatile writer who, here donning her best poker face, has mapped the high points of the penguins' eventful day in a few, fun-to-read-aloud words. Christian Robinson's lighthearted illustrations overlay childlike cut-paper characters on softly tinted backgrounds that burst into bright primary colors when the little birds finally scurry indoors to warm their webbed feet. Winter weather can of course also turn treacherous. A woolly mammoth with a biblical name is the beating heart of "Samson in the Snow," Philip C. Stead's exquisitely poised and tender fable about friendship in extreme circumstances. Built to withstand the fiercest blizzard, longhaired Samson is a gentle giant in the Ferdinand/ Horton mold who, for all his impressive physical heft and strength, feels a sharp need for companionship. The options in his neck of the tundra are apparently quite limited, however, and before long we see him befriending a little red bird and a mouse. When a storm hits, true-blue Samson not only worries about the fate of these vulnerable creatures, but also goes to great lengths to safeguard them. Like some sort of ice age Aesop, he concludes, "ft is better to walk than to worry." Together with his wife, Erin E. Stead (with whom he collaborated on the 2011 Caldecott Medal book "A Sick Day for Amos McGee"), Stead has been in the forefront of illustrators to respond to the preponderance of pixilated images by reembracing the handmade look and feel of picture books. He draws Samson here in a vigorous gestural style while rendering the landscapes through which the big guy lumbers in mood-mirroring expanses of richly hued and textured pastels. He adds an occasional rough-hewed cardboard print (something like a potato print) of a snowflake as a homey, but perfectly placed, decorative element. No creature - or artisanal flake - is too small to care about. Stead leaves the reader with much to ponder, not least if you consider that his unflappable mammoth's real-world counterparts went extinct millenniums ago and that the Old Testament superhero whose name he bears was betrayed by the woman he loved. Are readers to wonder whether earthly friendship is just as transitory? Stead and Samson are rather alike in their determination to leave as little to chance as possible, and in their view that good fellowship - like good bookmaking - is an art to be tended down to the last detail. A better gloss of Stead's fable might be : What's a little blizzard between friends? Let it snow. LEONARD S. MARCUS'S books include "Golden Legacy," "Margaret Wise Brown: Awakened by the Moon" and, most recently, "Comics Confidential."
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [December 11, 2016]
Review by Booklist Review
One night, a little girl wakens to the sound of snow, Pit, pit, pit against the window. Dressed for cold weather, she ventures out into the yard, where a puppy joins her as she makes a snowball. After rolling it down the street, across a field, and through the woods, she joins dozens of children building snowmen on a snowy plain. In one magical scene, many of the kids and their creations float up into the air together. The final picture shows the puppy and snowman together in the girl's yard. Beginning realistically, the story gradually becomes more fantastic: a small child on a solo journey at night; watchful polar bears in the woods; and a sky full of cheerful, airborne kids and snowmen. In her first picture book, Park creates dreamlike scenes, softly drawn in shades of white, black, and brown with red accents. Most double-page spreads include a bit of text, but near the story's end, four spreads are wordless, letting children supply their own versions of events. An imaginative picture book.--Phelan, Carolyn Copyright 2016 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
In her debut, Korean artist Park captures the quiet mystery of snow. A small child with rosy cheeks and straight hair stirs under her quilt as she hears a noise: "Pit, pit, pit against the window. Glistening, floating in the night." Alone, she dresses in the velvety darkness and ventures outside, her red scarf the only note of color in the black-and-white spreads. White, canvaslike texture peeks through the black paint in places, mimicking the way bright surfaces catch small amounts of light in the darkness. Outside, the girl sets to work making a snowman, rolling a snowball along dense urban streets, through a field, and past an elevated train line. In the forest, she passes through a light-filled opening into a realm of snowy fantasy, arriving at a place where children rise into the sky to fly with the snowmen they've made. Then, just as quietly, reality returns. Park's artwork recalls the child portraits of mid-20th-century artists like Eloise Wilkin, but gives them new dignity with a somber palette. Together with the spare, unobtrusive text, the images evoke an atmosphere of enchantment. Ages 2-4. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
Toddler-PreS-This story captivates from the start with "Shhhh, listen do you hear something?" In this celebration of a first snow, a tiny girl awakens in the night and quickly dons her boots, coat, scarf, and hat before quietly slipping outside to form a snowball. She rolls the snowball out of town, into the countryside, and past woodland creatures before reaching her destination-an open area where dozens of children are creating snowmen. By this time the ball has become bigger than the girl. After she joins the others in creating snowpeople, magic happens when the page is turned. The simple narrative holds readers' interest while it moves from the familiar to the ethereal. The concise language and dreamy yet understandable images are perfect for toddlers. The artwork, in shades of black-and-white with accents of red, is reminiscent of the visuals in Akiko Miyakoshi's Tea Party in the Woods, although Park's images, mostly depicting nighttime scenes, are darker. VERDICT This quality picture book debut is a delight and just right to share one-on-one or in toddler storytime.-Gaye Hinchliff, King County Library System, WA © Copyright 2016. 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
A small child awakens in the middle of a snowy night, bundles up, and ventures out. Accompanied by a puppy ("Shhhlet's go"), she makes her way along city streets, across fields, by train tracks, and through woods, pushing a growing snowball as she goes. Eventually she arrives in a clearing, her snowball now taller than she is. There she encounters other children, their own snowballs in tow, and together they assemble snowmen, then take to the snowy sky, floating. A final spread, showing a little snowman outside the girl's house in the morning light, suggests the possibility that it was all a dream. Working in black and white with highlights of red on heavily textured backgrounds, Park paints her story with few words. Careful composition and consistent perspective establish a simple visual narrative, and the inky blackness of the ground, still visible beneath even the snowiest spreads, adds to the sense of midnight stillness. A quiet wonder. thom barthelmess (c) Copyright 2017. 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
A little Korean child celebrates the titular first snow.Bundling up in a white snowsuit, red scarf, and white-and-red mittens, the child tiptoes out of the house in the dark of night to be joined by a young white puppy. Pat, pat, pat. / Roll, roll, roll. The child makes a snowball and rolls it along, under streetlamps and the moon, next to an elevated train track, and into the woods. Here, spreads that have been dominated by night-sky black dotted with fluffy, textured snowflakes turn dazzlingly white, with snow-covered trees and mountains as background. In wordless spreads, the protagonist, now dwarfed by the giant snowball, is joined by other bundled-up children, in gray and black with red accents, with giant balls of their own. Together, they make huge, smiling snowmen, both filling a vast plain and floating in the sky before the page turns, and, abruptly, all readers see is the lone, first child isolated in the right-hand corner of the spread with tongue out to catch the flakes. Another turn of the page reveals the backyard with a modest, red-mufflered snowman next to the doghouse, leaving readers to wonder how much of the adventure was real. In her debut, Seoul-based author/illustrator Park captures the magic of the first snow, her limited palette and textured canvas creating a soft, welcoming world. Readers will find themselves longing for the seasons first snow, too. (Picture book. 3-6) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
