Review by Booklist Review
Two British poets dare young nature lovers to hunt for their own wild hearts by exploring the decidedly hazardous town laid out in an opening map and inhabited by wild flora and fauna, from the zebras of Herbivoreville ("Your safety is a game of chance / when walking where the zebras dance.") to the prowling, growling residents of Wolf Walk (". . . tread upon this path with care / beneath their yellow feral glare.") Harrold is the more interior and metaphorical of the two poets, as he writes of feeling like he's falling up when he lies down to look at drifting clouds, invites readers to check in at the Chrysalis Hotel, and makes a distinction between true freedom and merely "shaking things / and shouting things / and clouting things." Paul does occasionally lighten the mood with monochrome images of, for example, a teenage leopard popping spots, but in general he conveys a tone of menace with disquieting portraits of grimacing, shark-toothed animals and even plants. It's a dangerous but rewarding town, well worth repeat visits.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by School Library Journal Review
Gr 2--6--A feral beauty lurks in the pages of this fanciful collection. Harrold and Conlon join forces with Paul to produce a guidebook, equal parts cautionary tome and manifesto, beckoning readers through the offbeat menagerie of Wild Town. The book wanders neighborhood by neighborhood through the fictional territory; each section title, with names like "Herbivoreville" and "The Carnivore Quarter," establishing theme and mood for the poems within. The structure of the writing bounces between formal classicism and modernist experimentation. Lines sizzle with metaphor, simile, and personification. Paul's loose, prickly grayscale art, effortlessly expressive, infuses the atmosphere with a joyous irreverence. Differences in the authors' sensibilities do sometimes cause the tone to vary abruptly. Harrold's Ogden Nash--style light verse occasionally tends toward frivolity, veering from the banal ("Let us have lettuce this day./ Let us have lettuce tomorrow./ Let us have lettuce every day/ and carrots, please, to follow") to the downright saccharine ("the wolves on the bus go,/ rarr! rarr! rarr!/ till all the kids are gone./ HOWL!"). Conlon more often exhibits a thoughtful restraint, both in his metered pieces ("Even the clocks run wild here,/ leaping over the-time-is-near") and free-form ones ("and my boat-dip back was a place/ where lake and sky could rest.") There are more than enough compelling entries from both poets to fill the book with a palpable sense of wonder. Readers departing Wild Town may not be surprised to find themselves circling back to begin exploring the terrain once more. VERDICT A recommended purchase for poetry collections.--Jonah Dragan
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