Review by New York Times Review
ONE OF MY DAUGHTERS recently asked, "Does my reflection in the mirror have a heart?" Her question, like a koan, kept knocking around my brain for weeks. The oblivious disrupter does that, opening familiar eyes to fresh views, tripping into philosophical challenges. A good picture book can capture this bumbling genius of children and animals, as these four new ones do. They are winning documents of the clumsy, unintended revelation. Badger brothers Tic and Tac are bored in "Laundry Day," by Jessixa Bagley ("Boats for Papa"). They have built a fort, fished, and read all their books forward and backward. Then their mother asks, "Well, would you like to help me hang the laundry?" Their response is enthusiastic, so much so that she's free to slip off to the market while they handle the clothesline. Only one problem. They run out of clean clothes. What follows is an act of exuberant excavation. The boys empty the house of all its contents, sacrificing utility, comfort and convenience to the joy of the clothesline, to the open air. They hang combs, alarm clocks, carrots and checkerboards, apple cores, roller skates, LPs, plungers and paintings. The vibrant array of objects is matched by the book's brilliant color and the moments of delightful minutiae present in each illustration. This Marie Kondo-esque meditation on objects and their uses evolves into an exploration of the nature of play and work. On her return, the wise matriarch surrenders to her sons' reinvention of laundry. Why resist? Why hold on to the labors we never wanted in the first place? The boys themselves, freshly bored, imagine the other domestic arenas where their riotous skills might be best put to use. Dinner? "Tidy," another badger book, this one created by Emily Gravett, reminds me of my onetime Brooklyn landlady. Returning home once, I entered the paved-over garden of her home. She spied a bunch of chard peeking out the top of my grocery bag. "Yick," she said. "Green things." "Tidy's" badger, unlike Tic and Tac, is an efficient fellow named Pete. He decides he needs to clean up the forest. Off-color blossoms are pruned while woodland animals are scrubbed. Explosive portraits of nature meet a disciplined hand, reverent of detail. Fallen leaves are bagged in plastic, and ultimately all the trees are removed so that a neat, thick layer of convenient concrete can be poured over all that icky mud. The horror is complete. "This forest is practically perfect," Pete says. It resembles a parking lot. But soon he is tired and hungry and these woods are no longer a poor man's overcoat. There are no bugs or worms to catch for dinner. The door to Pete's cozy burrow is covered in cement. Pete raises a good question about the role of the oblivious disrupter. Where do dumb and discovery meet? Or how does dumb stop being dumb? Most poignantly here, in Pete's brave, sad confession, one I wish we heard more often: "I have made a mistake." Failure is the most tested tool of learning. While some mistakes of environmental destruction might take a bit longer to correct than those in picture books, Gravett leaves her reader content in a messy, happy, blissfully imperfect restored forest, filled with perfectly imperfect creatures. It is in this kind of forest that Paul Meisel's "My Awesome Summer by P. Mantis" picks up, with illustrations that lead a reader into the large happenings of the smallest of worlds. This celebration of nature's strangenesses and wild wonders is narrated by a hungry praying mantis, those creatures of such bright green intensity and surprising camouflage, spotting one can cause a temporary opening in the fabric of a day, a moment of pause in an otherwise hectic, distracted life. Meisel leads his reader through three seasons with this fascinating critter. Along the way, we confront confounding nature. "I'm hungry. Growing so fast!" our narrator says. "I ate one of my brothers. O.K., maybe two." Between multiple (hysterical) acts of cannibalism, our narrator hides like a stick, sheds her skin, tricks predators, and eventually learns how to fly. She is humorously unapologetic - she is who she is, in all her wonder. And, she is hungry. As a reader learns much about this marvelous creature - for example, praying mantises are the only insects that can turn their heads from side to side - it is not hard to begin to wonder: What odd human behaviors might themselves boggle the mind of the majestic praying mantis? We are a curiosity, and we are curious. Why are we here if not to explore the wonder of this world? Even if sometimes we do this by stumbling into and through our explorations. In Jon Agee's "Life on Mars," a young astronaut has made his way to the red planet. The appeal of these pages comes in the juxtaposition of the brightest reds and yellows against a space palette of subdued grays and black. We learn that our astronaut is looking for life and that he is considered "crazy" for doing so. "Nobody believes there is life on Mars. But I do." His conviction in himself is hopeful. He's brought chocolate cupcakes to aid in his search, a bit of bait, a gesture of friendship. But as the drabness of the planet and the critical voices back home overwhelm our hero with self-doubt, he fails to notice he's being followed by a friendly-looking, large red Martian. As disappointment and doubt mount, he misplaces his box of cupcakes and his spaceship. It is in this darkest moment of feeling lost that our young astronaut at last spies a brilliant yellow flower growing in the gray. He is delighted. He has found life. After scaling an oddly shaped red Martian, I mean, mountain, he's reunited with his cupcake box and his spaceship. While he leaves the Martian unmet, we are made hopeful by fresh questions and mysteries about our ultimately unknowable and inexhaustibly interesting universe. Each of these four books invites us to be fearless with our faults and bold in our explorations, and to remember wonder is never withdrawn. Each may also serve to remind some readers of their Samuel Beckett, in case they have somehow forgotten the Irish absurdist's refrain. "Try again. Fail again. Fail better." SAMANTHA HUNT is the author of novels including, most recently, "Mr. Splitfoot."
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [January 1, 2017]
Review by Booklist Review
An astronaut has traveled to Mars in a rocket ship to find Martian life, but when he arrives, all he sees is dirt and rocks and no one with whom to share his chocolate cupcakes. What a bust! Or is it? In Agee's illustrations, rendered in thick lines and sandy tones, little ones will see that there is life on Mars, in the form of a towering creature with pointy ears and a pinkish, pear-shaped body, who's probably just a little shy. The spare, deadpan text narrates the oblivious astronaut's journey over the planet, cake box in hand, as he wanders over desolate mesas, finds a pretty flower (there's some life on Mars after all!), gets lost, and finds his way back to his ship thanks to an all-too-familiar pink, pear-shaped hill. There's plenty of humor in the contrast between Agee's text and pictures, and that skittish Martian is a hoot all on its own. Kids who lose it over Jon Klassen's I Want My Hat Back (2011) will likely appreciate Agee's guileless astronaut.--Hunter, Sarah Copyright 2017 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Dramatic irony rules this expedition to Mars, in which a young human roams the rocky environment, unaware that he is not alone. The sky is black, the landscape the color of dust. The frowning boy astronaut, who carries an incongruous white box tied with red string, delivers a dejected monologue: "It's dark. It's cold. I've brought this gift of chocolate cupcakes. I don't think I'll find anybody to eat them." He fails to notice the pear-shaped, cantaloupe-orange creature-20 times his size-who is following and observing him. Agee's (Lion Lessons) quirky humor manifests in absurd elements such as the cupcake box, which the boy temporarily misplaces, and the anxious Martian, who pretends to be a hill when the astronaut loses sight of his rocket: "I bet I'll get a good view from the top of that mountain!" says the boy, unwittingly climbing the creature. The boy's discovery of a yellow flower confirms his speculation about "life on Mars," though he never notices the elephant in the room. It's satisfying silliness from start to finish, with a gotcha ending that will prompt requests for repeat readings. Ages 4-8. Agent: Holly McGhee, Pippin Properties. (Feb.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Review by School Library Journal Review
PreS-Gr 2-A young astronaut lands on the red planet and, despite detractors, is determined to find a sign of life there. In his hand is a package, tied with a red ribbon, that holds a chocolate cupcake, a gift to any extraterrestrial he might run into. But as the boy walks about the dark, cold, and rocky landscape, he begins to wonder if anything could possibly live there. Expansive spreads in shades of gray and brown with tinges of pink feature the diminutive traveler and allow readers to see what the boy can't: the large, friendly-looking, but somewhat perplexed creature following him, who picks up the package he has left behind. Frustrated in his search, the child heads back to the spaceship, until voilà, he discovers the sign he is looking for: a bright yellow flower. Agee, a master of the humorous picture book (It's Only Stanley, Nothing, and Terrific), offers lots of visual jokes here, including an especially delightful note that ends the tale. In addition, the simple vocabulary and large print (white against black) make this a good choice for emergent readers. VERDICT Sure to be a hit with beginning readers and storytime audiences alike.-Daryl Grabarek, School Library Journal © 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
It's Only Stanley (rev. 5/15) was a star-crossed (canine) love story that ended on the moon. Now Agee brings readers to the Red Planet. What would you bring along on a trip to search for life on Mars? Our little astronaut brings chocolate cupcakes but soon thinks, "I don't think I'll find anybody to eat them." Though the story depends on a repeated visual joke--the astronaut keeps missing the Martian in the background--it is hardly dull; one can imagine the child listener or reader hollering, "There it is! Look behind you!" every time, and then dissolving into giggles when the story continues. Agee's world is one with heavy dark outlines, where the emotional life of the characters--Martian or human--is clear because of the slightest raise of an eyebrow or tilt of a mouth line. Whenever the two figures are in the same picture, their movements and facial expressions mimic each other. Astronaut has a worried hand to mouth? The Martian has the same. Little space-suited arms at sides? Martian's arms are at sides. When the child gets lost, the Martian provides secret help, but the inside joke continues as the astronaut has no idea just how nearby the extraterrestrial is. Agee's use of dark browns and blacks and very mild greens for the terrain allows the one sign of life that the child sees to really pop: a yellow tulip against the dull planet surface brings hope to everyone. The humor continues through the very last page. Agee, with his unique and winning view of the world, never talks down to children and always asks readers to slow down and enjoy his take on what they might not otherwise see. robin smith (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
Is there life on Mars?"Everybody thinks I'm crazy. Nobody believes there is life on Mars. But I do." Equipped with a box of chocolate cupcakes, a young astronaut traverses the dark, cold Martian landscape in pursuit of something, anything that will prove life exists on Mars. Unbeknownst to the young, light-skinned astronaut, a large, pointy-eared Martian follows not too far behind. Alas, the planet isn't really cooperating: hills and craters punctuate its surface, but there's not much else. After miles and miles of seemingly nothing, the unlucky space explorer drops the chocolatey gift on the ground. "What a disaster. Everybody was right: There is no life on Mars!" Just don't tell that to the Martian, who picks up the dropped package. Though Agee's minimalist story relies on a single running gag to deliver much of the fun, it stays hilarious throughout thanks in large part to the sincere, impassioned first-person narration. The author/illustrator excels in illustrating a Martian scenery perfect for the young astronaut's mission. Black features prominently in most pictures, stressing the cold of space against the soft browns and harsh grays of Mars' mostly barren land. Bold lines give everything a clean, solid shape. A bit lost on the way back to the spaceship, the cosmic explorer stumbles across definitive proof of life: a flower. Mission success! Bursting with quiet wit and gorgeous Martian vistas. Simply masterful. (Picture book. 4-8) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
