Dreaming Up

I found a note in a pile of stuff not that long ago, reminding me to blog about this book.  It was more than likely due at the library, so I returned it and then went on to read other stuff and then promptly forgot it.  That's what happens, right? There are so many good books to read and write about, and I look up and two years have gone by!  But I found that note and checked Dreaming Up: A Celebration of Building out again.  I am happy to say that this unusual, creative book has been possibly even more popular with Frances and Gloria this time around.  Dreaming Up is a book with so many applications - I am happy to share it with you!

 

 

Christy Hale had the clever idea of taking three seemingly disparate elements and connecting them on the page.  On the left hand side of each spread is a picture of a child building something - toddlers stacking cups, a boy building a house of cards, children bundled up while playing in an igloo.  On the opposite page is a photograph of a real house or building that has something in common with the child's creative play.  In the example of the children playing in the igloo, the photo across from them is of an astronaut in a space suit, walking around a domed shelter.  The picture is a little bit surprising.  It makes the reader question how the shelter and astronaut came to be there.  But a reader can also immediately identify similarities between the picture of the children and the space shelter.  Both are dome-shaped, with similarly-sized entrances.  And where the igloo has been created with snow in cool tones, the space shelter looks to be created in a sort of honeycomb pattern.  Circles echo in both sides of the page.  The children's fluffy snowsuits and boots also resemble the astronaut's spacesuit.

 

 

We'll come back later to the astronaut and the space shelter, but for now I want to focus on the last element on each two-page spread.  There is a piece of concrete poetry that ties the two illustrations together.  The poems are often shaped in unique ways, which helps to further engage the reader.  A poem connecting a sandcastle with La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona is shaped like drips of wet sand.  As a child, I lived in San Diego, and seeing the poem makes my fingers itch to dribble sand through their fingers.  But the poem doesn't just explain the child's activity.  Hale does an amazing job of helping the reader to see that link between the two.  Her poem, which reads in part "Towers twist high, sparkle with sea glass, treasures and shells." can equally apply to La Sagrada Familia, which we learn later in the book is covered in mosaic glass.

 

One of the many things that I pondered as a result of this book was the creativity that is shown both in the children's play  and the buildings that are highlighted.  The buildings that are shown are amazing works of art.  There are the concentric swirls of the Guggenheim museum, the stacked terraces of Fallingwater.  But there is also the draped look of the suspension roof at the Yoyogi National Stadium in Japan, which mimics the shape of a blanket tent hung over chairs.  What is glorious about all of these real-life examples are their inspirations - space, nature and our lifestyles.

 

But I was also amazed by the diverse ways that children build and use their imaginations every day.  We could all probably think of a few ways children build, and they are fairly traditional (stacking cups, blocks, legos).  But there are other ways that children construct, such as the blanket tent, sandcastles, and building with toothpicks.  While the book calls itself a celebration of building, it is just as much a celebration of creativity.

 

This book can be used by so many types of readers, too.  I hate the perception that "picture books" should only be used with younger children, and this book fits my belief perfectly.  Of course, you could read this book with groups of young children (although I'm not sure that children much younger than Kindergarten would really be able to get it).  However, as children get older, it could be used as a model for creating concrete poetry.  It's definitely a higher order thinking challenge.  Primarily Hale draws strong connections between the illustrations with her poems so readers have similarities pointed out to them.  But expressing those connections in words or drawing the architectural elements would also be fun ways to work with this book.

 

And finally, one of the things I love most about this book is its amazing back matter.  Each building is reproduced in the back, along with a description of the materials it was created from, or the elements that make that building unique.  There is also a brief biography of the architect or builder, along with some of their guiding principles and a portrait.  And perhaps my favorite part of these biographies is a quote from the architect that perfectly fits the building in question.  For example, that space shelter is actually Mars One, in Hesperia, California.  It was created from sandbags, stacked in a dome shape (which is also alluded to in the poem), and held together with Velcro of all things!  The builder, Nader Khalili, believed that "the best substances for constructing shelters would be the materials under the astronauts' feet."  The quote is "'Everything we need to build is in us, and in the place.'"  To me, it encapsulates the building perfectly.  There is also an excellent page of sources for readers to research, both for photos and the quotations.  This book might seem simple, but the layers are satisfyingly complex.

 

Dreaming Up: A Celebration of Building. Christy Hale.  Lee & Low Books, 2012.

 

Borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library

 

Viva Frida

My favorite time of year has just passed - the announcements of the ALA Media Awards!  I love those few days before the awards are announced, when all over the United States librarians, bloggers, children and adults who love children's books are buzzing about their favorite titles.  Authors and illustrators are hoping their phones will ring at some ungodly hour of the morning.  Mock lists are popping up all around the Internet.  And then I love those days after the winners are announced, as those lucky authors and illustrators who have gotten the phone calls retell how it happened and how they felt, and we all rejoice with them.  I haven't heard how Yuyi Morales felt when she got her phone calls, announcing her as the winner of a Caldecott Honor Award and the Pura Belpre Illustrator Award.  But this book, Viva Frida, is a work of art and magic, and I am thrilled to share it with you!

I will tell you right up front that I was lucky enough to discover Viva Frida this summer, through my reviewing assignment from School Library Journal.  Ordinarily, I would never try to review a book on my blog that I had already reviewed for SLJ.  However, once I read this one, and saw how gorgeous it was, I wanted to write about it here.  It also fits so nicely with my interest in books that represent the Hispanic culture.  And once I knew that SLJ editors agreed with my assessment that this was a truly special book, I had to ask for permission to write about it.  I was so happy that SLJ agreed!

And I intended to write about it long ago, but as often happens around here, other books shouted more loudly than this quiet, dreamy stunner.  I even set it aside two weeks ago, to try and get a review written ahead of the awards I knew it would earn.  That obviously didn't happen either!  But it hasn't been forgotten, and I am taking the opportunity to celebrate it now.

You can tell from the woman gazing serenely from the cover of Viva Frida that this book is about Frida Kahlo. Many of the hallmarks are present in that initial shot - her monobrow, her bright, festive clothing, the knowing gaze, papel picado, and updone hair.  The cover image is of Frida, alone and isolated, on a background of scattered flowers.  But while she is alone, her eyes meet the reader's gaze, and you can tell that her secret life comforts her.

The magic starts right from the cover illustration.  By the way, I want to thank Roaring Brook Press for including the list of media Yuyi Morales used in creating this title.  There is no way I could have guessed at all of the techniques she used, including: "stop-motion puppets made from steel, polymer clay, and wool, acrylic paints, photography, and digital manipulation."  Those of you who are regular readers of my blog know that I am fascinated by the art used  to create books, and this one is no exception.  The cover model of Frida is a puppet, but again, her gaze is so human, so present.  It is uncanny.

I am really going to try not to describe every page to you in this post.  It's difficult because they are so layered, so glorious.  It is also difficult not to want to describe each page's illustrations because that is where so much of the plot takes place.  For example, the title page shows Frida's desk, with a sketch, little stoppered bottles, an unfurled piece of leather and brushes. Also, just peering over the top edge of the desk is an inquisitive monkey, holding out a silver key in an enticing manner.  The monkey could be stealing the key off the desk, or holding it out for Frida to take.  Regardless, it is there that the "story" begins. 

As I mentioned before, the story line is primarily conveyed visually.  The text is bilingual, and comprised of "I statements" about Frida and her drive to create.  It is spare, with only two or three words per double-paged spread.  The text draws you into Frida's mind, heart and soul.  "I play/I know/I dream."  The text is poetic, and floats in space visually, leaving the reader plenty of room to admire the result of Frida's creativity.  The English words are in a heavy black font, with the Spanish equivalent hovering above in a ghostly gray or white.  The effect is dreamy.


To add to the text are Morales' illustrations.  For those of us familiar with Kahlo's life story and artistic themes, the book is instantly recognizable.  Diego Rivera is shown working in his overalls, sharing an artistic space with her.  As Frida explores her own creativity, you see her animals surrounding her, playing with her.   At one point, she and that endearing monkey get out a skeleton puppet to play with, as that monkey tangles in the strings.  Halfway through the book, at the moment when the text reads "Sueño= I dream", the art changes.  In the first half, the illustrations are clearly realistic representations of Frida's life.  Frida and Diego are puppets and their studio space and actions are clearly based in the tangible world.  But as soon as Frida begins to dream, things shift.  Frida's eyes are closed, and her animal companions stare transfixed at painted versions of Frida soaring above her own dreaming head.  As the pages continue, more and more of each spread is created through paintings.  The soaring Frida sees a fawn whose leg has been pierced by an arrow.  She swoops down to rescue it, and of course it returns to her "real life" with Frida, to become part of her menagerie.

In one of the last spreads, Frida says "que amo = that I love".  It is my favorite picture - Frida's eyes are closed in contentment, Diego kissing her on the cheek while the animals also look on in adoration.  And because Frida loves, she also creates, something that is so engrained in her soul, in her personality.  Frida is creativity.

There is an author's note at the end of the book, called "My Frida Kahlo".  It is written in both English and Spanish.  I love this author's note because I think it brings Kahlo's deeply thematic, layered work to life for young readers.  Morales admits "When I was younger, I often found her paintings tortuous and difficult to understand."  That simple statement allows readers to realize that admiring someone's art doesn't mean you always have to understand it.  Morales gives some basic facts about Kahlo's life and art in this note before showing how much Frida Kahlo inspired her: "Did she know how many artists she influenced with her courage and her ability to overcome her own limitations?"

Another thing I love about this book is its flexibility.  For those who know nothing about Kahlo's life, it can stand as poetry, as a self-affirmation.  It can be shared with young readers as part of an art appreciation unit, or during Hispanic Heritage or Women's History Months.  But for the older reader in a high school art class, or for someone who has studied Frida Kahlo's biography, the book really shines. There are so many layers to the art included here, so many things to discuss in the words and pictures I could go on and on.  It is so lucky for all of us that Yuyi Morales chose Frida Kahlo new life here.  It is magic you'll never forget.

Viva Frida.  Yuyi Morales; photography by Tim O'Meara.  Roaring Brook Press, 2014.

sent by publisher through School Library Journal

Doll Bones

I'm going to start this blog post with a confession.  I couldn't read this book for more than six months.  It was sent to me by the publisher way back last June, and I was so excited to read it.  I do love Holly Black, and there had already been enough pre-publication buzz that I knew I wouldn't want to miss it.  But when I received it, the cover...well, it really freaked me out.  And I am a wimp about scary stuff.  So every time I would pick it up to read it, I would be afraid that I'd be up all night with nightmares, or...yeah, the cover really did it to me.

But that buzz I mentioned didn't go away, and it was quite often associated with the word "Newbery".  I knew I needed to get past my fear and dive in, because I would be sorry if I hadn't read it by the end of January.  Lo and behold, I finished it at the beginning of January and could grin when it won a well-deserved Newbery Honor.

The story begins with three friends - Zach, Alice and Poppy.  They've been friends for a long, long time, and one of the things they like to do best is play the game.  It's an ongoing, perpetually changing story that they tell and act out with a ragtag bunch of characters.  There are pirates, thieves, women raised by bands of carnivorous horses, and the Great Queen.  Most of the characters are action figures, bought at yard sales or thrift stores - the thief, Lady Jaye, is a repurposed GI Joe figure.  But the Great Queen is different.  The Great Queen lives in a glass-fronted display cabinet at Poppy's house.  She is a china doll who sits perched on the shelf. "Zach couldn't remember when exactly they'd decided that she was the Great Queen, only that they'd all felt like she was watching them, even though her eyes were closed..." (p. 8).  So they incorporated that creepy observation into their game.  The Great Queen had the ultimate power over the game - if a character displeases her, then they are cursed until they regain her favor.

This game has gone on and on, morphing in different directions over time.  But as the three friends turn twelve, things are changing.  Alice, who lives with her grandmother, is being noticed by boys.  Her grandmother is getting more controlling about what Alice wears and does.  Zach's father, who is back living with Zach's mom after having moved out three years ago, is focusing on Zach's basketball skill.  He doesn't approve of anything else.  "' You're growing up,' he said, which seemed to be one of those weird things adults would say sometimes, stuff that was really obvious and to which there was no reply." (p. 23).  And Poppy feels lost and left out more often - she has been growing up in a family with very little parental supervision, and she just doesn't seem to know where to go next.

Then Poppy and Alice come to Zach's house in the middle of the night and tell him an incredibly creepy story about the Great Queen.  Poppy has taken her out of the cabinet - "The Queen's dull black eyes were open, her gaze boring into his own.  He'd always thought she was creepy-looking, but in the reflected beam of the flashlight, she seemed demonic." (p. 62).  Then Poppy explains that she had a dream where she had seen a dead girl, who sat at the edge of Poppy's bed.  The dead girl told Poppy that she couldn't rest until her body was buried and that Poppy had to help her.  Even worse, it turns out that the dead girl is really the doll.  Her ashes have been made into the china doll.

There is a mystery surrounding this doll, of course, but there is also a quest.  The doll (and the girl) need to be buried in Liverpool, Ohio, which isn't far from where the three friends are.  So they set off to get her to Liverpool.  It's partly fear, sure.  The Queen (whose real name is Eleanor) told Poppy if she didn't help Eleanor, she'd get her.  It sounds ominous and no one wants to find out exactly what she means.  But even though they don't name it, they all know that this may be their last chance to play the game.

There is so much to talk about in this book.  One of Black's gifts is wiring a middle grade book that is scary, but not too scary.  There are definitely some creepy things going on.  At one point, Zach wakes up after they've spent the night outside, at a makeshift campsite.  "Turning, he saw the Queen resting in the dirt right behind his head, far from where she'd been the night before. ...Zach sprang up and scuttled away from her, his heart racing." (p. 113).  The campsite is trashed, with food scattered and a ripped sleeping bag.  There is never a real explanation for what happened - was it bears or other animals?  Was it the doll? The lack of a concrete explanation only ratchets up the suspense.  It doesn't help that just before he wakes to the mess, Zach has been dreaming about Eleanor as a little girl.  The fact that a china doll is seemingly controlling their trip through their dreams is also a little unnerving.  It's the sort of delicious discomfort and readers might enjoy without getting too scared.

One of the most interesting things about this book from my point of view is Black's choice of Zach as the narrator.  It's definitely not what a reader would expect, especially from the title and cover illustration.  They do indicate that the book will be scary (there are bones in the title and the doll on the cover looks very unsettling).  And yet the book is told from a boy's point of view.  As I continued to read and dwell on Zach as narrator, I realized he is actually a perfect narrator.  To the outside world, he is beginning to look like a jock.  He has grown very tall, and is playing basketball.  Poppy condemns him by saying "'You're going to be one of those guys who hangs out with their teammates and dates cheerleaders and doesn't remember what it was like to make up stuff.'" (p. 199)  But while Zach may appear that way to the outside world, we know that isn't the way he really is.  We know "That was why Zach loved playing: those moments where it seemed like he was accessing some other world, one that felt as real as anything.  It was something he never wanted to give up." (p. 3) So Zach isn't what he seems.  It makes him a really interesting character to me.

Another thing that struck me about the journey the three friends go on is how ingenious and creative they have to be to get anywhere.  They all pack quickly, and pack what they can get without alerting anyone to what they are doing.  It's the middle of the night, and they are trying to make the scheduled bus to Liverpool.  "When he finally went to the cabinets, he felt as though he was provisioning himself for one of those epic fantasy quests... " (p. 71).  And no matter how carefully they've planned (which isn't really very carefully at all), they are soon alone, out of money and supplies, and very far from home.  But the three friends believe in the quest, and each other.  They each have different reasons for agreeing to take this journey, but they are all determined to succeed.

This book was creepy, of course.  But it's also a great book about friendship, growing up, imagination, and creativity.  I would also note that there is a really awesome librarian in this book too!  Now I'll shelve this book with the cover facing the wall so I don't have to look at that doll.  But every once in a while, I'll want to check to see if it's moved.

Doll Bones.  Holly Black; with illustrations by Eliza Wheeler.  Margaret K. McElderry Books, 2013.

sent for review by the publisher

The Princess Who Had Almost Everything

Alicia is a princess who is doted on by the king and queen.  But because she's given everything she's ever wanted, she is always BORED.  Alicia goes from whim to whim, without really spending any time trying that activity.  That's because as soon as she gets frustrated, or the activity isn't all she thought it would be, she's (say it with me) BORED.  Until the day Alicia decides the one thing that will keep her from being bored is a prince.  After all, she's never had a prince before.  This prince has something new in his bag of tricks, and maybe Alicia's boredom is about to end.

Frances and Gloria picked this book out at our local library because it has a princess on the cover.  I found the story didactic - after all, the solution to Alicia's boredom is creativity, which the prince introduces to her.  The girls loved to whine along with Alicia "I'm BORED!", so they obviously engaged with the story more than I did.

What I loved about this book are Josee Masse's illustrations.  They are whimsical without being too quirky.  The illustrations have a fairy-tale quality with a modern twist.  The colors are mostly ice cream pastels with pops of maroon and gold.  Her style was reminiscent to me of Alison Jay, whose illustrations I also love.  Does this give you any visual idea of her illustrative style?  Let me see if I can describe it a little more thoroughly.

In one of the first double-page spreads, Alicia is having her own castle built by a famous architect.  The castle spills over both pages, tilting askew.  While it is shaped like the fairy-tale castles we all imagine, there are wide stairs leading to an oval entry instead of a drawbridge, moat and wall.  The oval entry is lined with maroon and embellished with scrolls.  The turrets have a roller coaster weaving through them, and there is a red swing for Princess Alicia in an archway.  Alicia herself has a maroon umbrella, shaped like a mushroom, which draws a reader's attention to her crotchety face.  All of this stands out against the blue sky and expanse of green lawns surrounding her own private castle (topped with an iron A, of course).  There is a timeless quality to the royals gathered around the castle - they, too, could fit into any fairy tale.

As the story progresses, Masse is given plenty of room for her creativity to soar.  She creates a maze full of exotic topiaries in mossy greens.  Then a circular train track with animal-shaped cars surrounds text on another page.  And there's a whole page of delicious, mouth-watering cakes and desserts.  Everything looks so interesting and fun that it's hard to envision someone being as bored as Alicia is.

But when she begins to become creative, the illustrations are even quirkier - with castles that are made out of paper so Alicia and her prince Connor can snip and change them at will.  Masse's illustrations really bring the theme of creativity to life. If Alicia had only appreciated the creativity around her from the very beginning...well, then there wouldn't be much of a story, would there?  At least kids might focus on the exciting creativity presented in the illustrations and not connect so much with Alicia's annoying whine "I'm BORED!"

The Princess Who Had Almost Everything. Mireille Levert; illustrated by Josee Masse.  Tundra Books, 2006.
borroowed from Lewis & Clark Library