Best children’s and young adult books this month
|
Version 0 of 1. Slickety Quick (Candlewick, Ages 4-9): Even the title of this poetry collection hints at something both agile and menacing. Indeed, its subject is the shark. Each of the book’s 14 poems tells of a different species of this extraordinary fish. Skila Brown’s catchy, enlightening verse and Bob Kolar’s bright, edge-to-edge illustrations bring these underwater creatures dazzlingly to life. Kolar’s aquatic blues and greens give way to the darker shadows of fins and teeth and the sparkle of sunlight from the surface. Familiar sharks swim through these pages along with lesser-known types, such as the wobbegong, which lies carpet-like on the ocean floor, and the cookiecutter shark, which takes just a single bite out of its prey. Brown’s rhythmic language has just the right mix of awe and trepidation: “Underwater cheetah /muscle torpedo / silver bullet of the sea/ that tuna never hadachance” she writes of the mako shark. Brief informational captions accompany the poems and illustrations, though for a first reading, all ears will be on the poetry — and all eyes will be on the sharks. — Kathie Meizner On a hot day in 1958, a group of jazz musicians stood in front of a Harlem brownstone to pose for an Esquire magazine photo shoot. Little did they know that the photograph — featuring 57 musicians and a group of neighborhood kids — would become legendary. Roxane Orgill’s dazzling Jazz Day: The Making of a Famous Photograph (Candlewick, Ages 7 – 11) tells how this celebrated image came to be. Each of her poems focuses on a different moment of its creation, starting before any of the luminaries arrived: “look right/look left/a crazy request/what if nobody shows,” worries the photographer before he spies Lester Young and Milt Hinton heading his way. Thelonious Monk is delayed because he can’t settle on what to wear, apart from “the inevitable bamboo-frame sunglasses/The ones he always wore to play/‘Misterioso.’ ” Francis Vallejo’s striking acrylic-and-pastel illustrations offer similarly unexpected perspectives on streetscapes, nattily dressed musicians and interested onlookers. One of the last poems in this cheerful history lesson ends with “click/all eyes looking/this way/click/click/it has to be perfect/for Esquire/Dizzy sticks out his tongue.” In an inspired bit of book design, the next page opens out into a double-spread reproduction of the photograph, complete with Dizzy Gillespie enjoying a joke with Roy Eldridge; young readers will surely wonder what it is that’s making them laugh. —Abby McGanney Nolan Sarah Dooley mixes poetry and prose to powerful, poignant effect in her novel Free Verse (Putnam, Ages 10 and up). Seventh-grader Sasha Harless is desperate to leave her West Virginia home town where “so many bad things have happened.” The aptly named Caboose holds nothing but “coal-filthy buildings,” “flood-damaged roads” and memories of family members lost to mining accidents, fire and despair. The quiet girl distances herself from her foster mother and schoolmates; but when the teacher assigns poetry, the tiny form of the haiku allows Sasha to express her grief and begin to open up to others. Sasha also befriends a younger, emotionally scarred cousin named Mikey, and she continues to stretch herself socially and creatively through the school’s poetry club. But when Mikey’s father disappears in a mining cave-in, Sasha panics and goes on the run with Mikey, putting them both in danger. Dooley, a special-needs instructor in West Virginia, writes with a respectful awareness of the hardships of the region and of the fierce bonds of family and community. Sasha’s voice is natural, and the accessible poetic forms (cinquain, tanka, enclosed tercet) help her to shape her thoughts and experiences with a raw intensity. This story brims with hard-won insight into the travails and small joys of life, including “morning mountains” and the “sun pouring down in buckets.” — Mary Quattlebaum |