picturebooks

The Plight of the Refugee

the day war cameThe Day War Came by Nicola Davies, illustrated by Rebecca Cobb
This is a powerful book that works because it touches the ordinary in each of us. Cobb is an illustrator in the ilk of Judith Kerr and Shirley Hughes – she draws her characters and situations with a crayon childlike warmth, summoning a familiar feeling of domesticity, with her children’s faces expressing the wonder and hope so redolent of innocent childhood. Yet, as in her best work, including Paper Dolls and The Something, she manages to create the darkness and uncertainty that can befall a child, whether it be the bittersweet passing of time in Paper Dolls, or the fears that lurk within the depths of imagination in The Something, or indeed war in The Day War Came.

She complements Nicola Davies’ text wonderfully, which itself tells this story with an acute simplicity, stirring the heart because it bears inside it the pang of extreme suffering. There is a superior energy and force behind the text and illustrations’ understatement:

“I drew a picture of a bird.

Then, just after lunch, war came.”

The war itself feels brutal, as does the journey to flee it. The girl is shown in distress, and there are symbols throughout – of domesticity altered, destroyed and damaged – red shoes adrift on the tide, orange flowers echoing the orange flames leaping from the buildings, children’s drawings strewn in a blast.

the day war came
But even more haunting are the images and words afterwards – the internal war that follows the child in the doors shut in her face, the turning away of people. The image of hope comes in the end with an empty chair borne by a welcoming boy.

The picture book came out of a campaign called #3000chairs, after 3000 child refugees were refused entry to the country in 2016. Nicola Davies’ poem started the ball rolling, and artists contributed drawings of chairs. You can read more about this campaign here, but the picture book will have an effect for years to come – changing minds and moving hearts about the plight of children caught up in war. You can buy a copy here, £1 from every copy sold goes to the charity Help Refugees.

boy at back of classThe Boy at the Back of the Class by Onjali Q Rauf, illustrations by Pippa Curnick
An empty chair starts this book too, but it is soon filled with a Syrian refugee. The narrator (who remains anonymous in name and gender until fairly near the end of the book) is empathetic towards him, and soon envelopes him within the friendship group. What begins as a mundane look at an outsider fitting into a new school, complete with language barriers, a bullying problem, and sympathetic teachers, turns into an interesting political commentary on the UK’s treatment of refugees, all told within the neat confines of a children’s adventure story.

The narrator and his/her friends pick up on attitudes and information from the grown-ups and news broadcasts around them, and their naivety and misunderstanding leads the group of friends to find a rather far-fetched solution to reuniting Ahmet with his parents (whom it is presumed are waiting to cross the border into the UK to be with their son again).

The differing views on refugees and acceptance dominate the book, and cleverly, by keeping the narrator anonymous, the reader will find their own views challenged in the presumptions they have made about the protagonist, which comes to a head at the climactic point of the novel.

Above all though, this is a neat, well-told story that explores the power of small actions to initiate change – that calls upon the role of the individual in society, and the impact that kindness can have.

There are nods to other children’s books, but what the author has done most wisely is perfect the innocence and openness of the narrator’s voice in encapsulating the simplicity of school life as seen through a nine year old’s eyes, alongside the complexity of issues in wider society. Suitable for 8+ years, and you can buy this novel here.

tomorrowTomorrow by Nadine Kaadan
Another child who has had his domestic routine disrupted is Yazan, a Syrian boy, in this wordy picture book by Nadine Kaadan, herself from Damascus. At first the war curtails his activities and routines, confining him to the house and subjecting him to boredom. Then, it intrudes his confined space – coming into his house in dark poignant watercolour abstract shapes leaking from the loud noise of the TV news. When Yazan escapes outside in the hope of riding his bicycle to the park he sees only emptiness, and buildings that seem to tower over him, confining him in a different way.

There is much to explore in the imagery here, with anxiety and fear portrayed within a deconstructed urban landscape – buildings are blood red and crooked, or grey and strewn with cracks – even Yazan’s parents are drawn with buildings as their clothes as if the destruction outside is eating them up, the war-torn streets projected inside their circle of domesticity.

As Rebecca Cobb, Kaadan looks to the everyday domestic images – a child’s paper aeroplane, the excitement of a red bike and its bell to express an affinity with this ‘everychild’. Kaadan reaches for a hopeful ending, pictured in the illustrations of happy colourful days and the limitless freedoms of nature and the park in the imaginations of mother and child.

A fascinating exploration of how an illustrator can take one symbol of war and use it throughout a book, whilst also showing her characters with sympathy, humanity and depth. You can buy a copy here.

The Restless Girls by Jessie Burton, illustrated by Angela Barrett

the restless girls

It’s not hard in today’s modern society to view the Grimm fairy tales as patriarchal in their outlook, some verging on misogynistic, and although I firmly believe that they should be read within the context of their time, it’s easy to see how modern authors might want to write their own versions to realign some of the prejudices expressed within the original tales. Grimm’s original The Twelve Dancing Princesses, published in 1812, bears many of the hallmark tropes of patriarchal fairy tale narratives – the girls are locked up at night by their father, they keep their night-time activities secret, and they are nothing but the prize for the male who solves the mystery of where they go (he may choose whomever of them he wants for his wife). Thus, a father who cannot accept the girls’ transition to maturity (the wearing out of their shoes), girls who act in a duplicitous manner, and princesses who are passive entities and must submit to their fate.

However, the original tale does hold some morals that may be of use today – the idea that parents need to give their adolescents some freedom (otherwise they sneak out in secrecy to who knows where!); and conversely a lesson to young readers that duplicity is always outed in the end. And there are numerous variations on the Grimm’s version of The Twelve Dancing Princesses, each pulling out morals according to their era.

Luckily for us, Jessie Burton has re-crafted the story for our times, retaining the key narrative but twisting it just enough to add modern flavour and feminism, as well as her own philosophy and musings on life’s lessons. Enhanced by Angela Barrett’s dazzlingly diverse illustrations (of what I’ve seen so far in early proofs), this finally is a story for the 21st century.

Queen Laurelia’s tragic death in a motor car accident results in the King’s over-protectiveness of his daughters: instead of letting them pursue their passions and talents (everything from astronomy to painting, comedy to botany), he denies them their lessons and belongings and locks them up in a dormitory. The girls turn from despair to hope when they discover a secret passageway behind their mother’s portrait, and take night-time excursions across a lake and through a magical, wondrous silver forest before dancing the night away at a palace filled with talking animals, where a constant party, with feasting and merriment, is in sway. Dance, here, is very much an expression of freedom and happiness rather than an overtly feminine activity.

Burton doesn’t just update the story with modern nuance by including motor cars and telephones; she litters it with her musings on life, philosophies that determine our own age but also future times, and asks the reader to think hard too, whether it be about the role of imagination in our lives, where story meets memory in remembering someone lost, and when darkness can sometimes be kind.

This is a feminist re-telling, so Burton twists the story, overtly judging their neglectful father who encourages strange men to spy upon the princesses, and wryly exploring the teamwork of the 12 sisters, although she also showcases their individuality by naming each, and by having each sister use their different strengths to overcome adversity. In the end, their supreme wit and intelligence reigns as they turn the King’s own words against himself, and seize their future with ferocity. In our time in which girls self-harm, Burton shows how girls can save themselves, forge a sisterhood, look out for each other, and use wisdom to seek positive futures. At the same time, it doesn’t feel ‘anti-men’, because the advisers surrounding the King embrace the future too.

Within the writing itself are sumptuous descriptions – one would be hard pushed to read about the food offered at the palace without salivating – and although richly English, with its hot buttered toast and sausages and mash, there are spices from around the world, and indeed the book feels global in its telling.

This is not just a feminist tale – Burton beguiles the reader with the magic of fairy tales by retaining initial features such as a secret door to a secret world, the lights and twinkling forest treats that the girls find, lush descriptions of food and parties, and she also subverts all political assumptions by populating the night-time party with mysteriously flamboyant anthropomorphised animals.

the restless girls illustrationInitial illustrations (having only seen an early proof) depict the girls as individuals, busy at their own tasks, yet with a collaborative spirit, and indeed their spirit is apparent in the movement and strength demonstrated by Frida, the eldest daughter, shown early on flinging back curtains to let light illuminate the King’s advisers – an illustrative metaphor.

This is a book of freedom and independence; dare I say girl power. Written like a waltz, it dances the reader through the pages with pace and movement, and celebrates laughter and love in swirling pirouettes of plot. You can buy your own copy here.

Autumn 2018 Picture Book Round-up 1


The Best Sound in the World by Cindy Wume
A debut picture book that will strike a chord with readers, it tells a simpatico tale of a lion who wants to capture the best sound in the world. He tries to imitate the sounds he hears by reproducing them on his violin – but nothing sounds quite right, particularly with annoying neighbour Jemmy dancing, clapping or singing along to the music. Roy the lion leaves on a mission to find the most beautiful sound and explore the world, but realises in the end that the most beautiful sound is back home – the music he makes with his neighbour, and now, friend.

Wume’s gouache, coloured pencil and ink illustrations are detailed and wondrous, conveying precisely the mood of each page – from the monkeys leaping in the forest to the train rumble in the city. What’s more, her vocabulary pitches perfectly when pulling out each sound – from the pling of the rain to the chitter-chatter of the market. There is much to explore and disseminate here, from the mix of rural and urban, to the clever use of movement to convey dance and sound. The message of course, is that friendship wins out, and what you’re looking for is often within rather than in the outer world, but there are also subtler issues around observation and subjectivity. If nothing else, it will make the reader appreciate the sounds around him/her in the everyday world. Aesthetically astute, intelligently observed and warm. You can buy it here.


Sing to the Moon by Nansubuga Nagadya Isdahl and Sandra van Doorn
Even from the front cover, reality mixes with magical realism in this universally themed book of what to do on a rainy day. Ever since before The Cat in the Hat: “The sun did not shine, it was too wet to play. So we sat in the house all that cold cold wet day,” the weather has been a source of inspiration for writers. Used well, it can dictate mood, create atmosphere, and influence plot. This rainy day is during the rainy season in Uganda, and the source of inspiration for the child’s use of time is not a cat in a hat, but the child’s Jjajja – the grandfather.

This is a good introduction to Ugandan life. This child completes chores with his Jjajja, from packing peas to clearing the veranda, but all the while is engrossed with the tales his grandfather tells. The day passes quickly, and is filled with the dreams and stories of the past and the future.

Domestic detail sings from the pastel illustrations, but there are also wishes and dreams spun and illustrated as the boy thinks of the adventures he would take. The illustrative stickmen figures with large heads create a further dreamlike status, and the text rhymes in a rhythmic fashion, almost as if to the beat of the rain itself. Children will appreciate the mischievous white dog on each page – but I particularly enjoyed the descriptive language: ‘the clouds spread like a charcoal stain’, and ‘the drops…muddle the view’. Comforting and illuminating. You can buy it here.


The Dress and the Girl by Camille Andros, illustrated by Julie Morstad
We are taken back in time in this lyrical story of immigration, which begins in a slightly idyllic Greece, with donkeys, blue skies and days of freedom at sea and in the fields. But these large vistas with their white buildings and flowered landscapes are not enough and the family long for change. The family immigrate to New York, and upon arrival the girl and her beloved dress are separated. Here, the dress takes on its own persona and searches for the girl. Years later, they are reunited and the dress fits the girl’s own daughter.

Nostalgic illustrations give good period detail, and tell a tale with their muted colours at Ellis Island. At the same time there is a clarity and sharpness to the drawings, as if they have been rendered with a precision that conjures months and years in small pen strokes.

This is not a refugee story of migration, but a desire for an easy passage and a better or even just different way of life, which makes an interesting contrast to recent picture books about modern migration, such as The Journey. The Dress and the Girl is worth examining for the opening and closing spreads and their theme of separation and reunion – a complete circle if you will, as well as an examination of memory and possession. You can buy it here.


Daddy Hairdo by Francis Martin and Claire Powell
A light-hearted look at hair in this delightful picture book about overlong hair and the passing of time. Amy doesn’t have much hair when she’s born, and her Dad has plenty. But then her hair grows, and her Daddy’s seems to disappear. After considerable searching for it, they settle on dealing with the problem of Amy’s hair, which is becoming inconvenient due to its length. Amy’s Dad comes up with some incredible solutions, before reason kicks in.

This is a wonderfully amusing book for anyone who’s ever de-tangled a web of hair, and a cool nod to crazy fashions. Francis Martin lets loose his inner child with some excellent wordplay – hair-raising of course, while Powell has immense fun illustrating hairstyles with aplomb – accentuated by wonderful facial expressions. This is a fun, giggling-inducing picture book, and one which also celebrates the father/daughter relationship with zest and affection. You can buy it here.


Fearless Mirabelle by Katie Haworth and Nila Aye
Perhaps it’s the celebration of individuality, or having confidence in your own unique skill set, or looking after your sibling, but this picture book appeals on so many levels. There’s the circus element, which is always a winner, and the attention to quirky detail, such as Mirabelle balancing on a galloping horse on one leg, whilst eating a bowl of cereal.

Mirabelle and Meg are identical twins, but although Mirabelle is fearless in the circus, Meg is scared of heights. When they realise that Meg’s asset is her ability to speak in front of a crowd (which terrifies Mirabelle), the girls realise that together they can be a supreme double act.

The limited colour palette of primary colours, with black and white, makes for a distinctive look – the characters look a little like friendly Coraline’s, and children will delight in the veneer of simplicity in the scribbled illustrations – they are stylish and endearing – like sugar candy with an edge. Different typefaces explore direct speech, capitals are used for emphasis. Much to look at, just like the circus. You can buy it here.


How to be a Lion by Ed Vere
Or how not to conform to type in this fairly new picture book from Vere. Here, Leonard the Lion isn’t a roary hunter but the sort of lion who likes to ponder upon his ‘thinking hill’, and write poetry. When bullied by the pride for not devouring a duck whom he has taken as a friend, Leonard and Marianne the duck collaborate on a poem to explore individuality.

It may sound whimsical but Vere’s thick black outlines convey a ruggedness to the story, and the book publishes at an apt time as society rethinks its stereotypical view of masculinity. It’s a call to not bend to peer pressure, and the tightness of the text brings the message home without sentimentality. A celebration of creativity and words too, and of the benefits of thinking rather than being the loudest voice in the room. Bold oranges and yellows bring to mind the African Savannah, and as always with Vere, there is abundant humour tucked in with the message, wit in both text and picture, and a great understanding of the rhythm of the language. A proud and majestic picture book. You can buy it here.


Can You See a Little Bear by James Mayhew and Jackie Morris
A new gift edition for 2018 with phenomenal production quality, this much-loved picture book first published in 2006. Aimed at younger children, with its delightful premise of ‘seeing’ not only the little bear in different imaginative landscapes, but also spying patterns and colours, contrasts and opposites within Morris’s exquisitely beautiful illustrations, this also feels relevant for older children and artwork students because of the theatrical and circus settings, and the sumptuousness of the watercolours.

The text rhymes, and its intent is to pull you into the pictures, leading the reader to spy and spot certain things, but it also captures the soporific tone that has affected the bear – this is a dreamscape after all. The incredible detail of the illustrations, depicting medieval scenes, wild landscapes and exotic buildlings, before gently falling back into the more domestic sphere of bathtime and bedtime under the moon, will entrance adult and child alike. You can buy it here.

Winner of the 2018 Klaus Flugge Prize

klaus fluggeThe winner of the 2018 Klaus Flugge Prize for the most promising and exciting newcomer to children’s book illustration was announced last night, Wednesday 12 September. I’m delighted to tell you that the prize went to Kate Milner for My Name is not Refugee (Barrington Stoke), and I was lucky enough to ask her about her win.

Kate studied illustration at St Martin’s College as a young woman – and illustrated magazines on Commercial and Housing Law for a while, but spent most of her career as a librarian. Cuts to the library service resulted in her losing her job, and that prompted her to do an MA in children’s book illustration at Anglia Ruskin University. She created the story that was to become My Name is Not Refugee as part of her degree show, and with it won Student Illustrator of the Year in the V&A Illustration Awards.

And now the prestigious Klaus Flugge. How do you feel?

I am absolutely delighted and quite astonished. I really did not think I had a chance.

my name is not refugeeThe award-winning book is called My Name is Not Refugee. In modern history there have always been refugees. Why do you think your book has been so popular/ caused such a reaction now?

I wrote the book to explain to children what a refugee is. I wanted to get a tool into the hands of teachers, parents and librarians to help them define the term for children and give some small hint of what the experience might be like. The issue has become much more contentious recently because many on the right like to depict refugees as invaders or spongers, not people in real need. I wanted to provide something to be used by people with a more balanced view.

You said you felt quite angry when you were drawing the illustrations for the book, in particular the one with the caption ‘We’ll sleep in some strange places’, but that the anger hasn’t filtered through in the final book – it’s stripped back. Which emotion would you like children to feel when reading the book?

I would like children to feel sympathy for the plight of refugees and curiosity about why they are in such a difficult situation. It was important to me not to make this an angry book, children don’t need adult’s anger; they need clarity.

Did it take a long time to write and illustrate the book? And did the stripped back illustrations and limited palette come naturally as you were planning?

I certainly wrote and illustrated the first draft ridiculously quickly with, lets be honest, not very much planning at all. I thought of the idea about twelve days before the final critique for my MA at Cambridge. It was obviously supremely stupid to embark on a new project so close to the end of the course; I tried to stop myself but I failed. The stripped back quality comes, partly, from trying to make a book that applies to all sorts of refugee situations so trying to avoid specific details like domestic interiors. At that stage it didn’t really have a palette, that evolved later in discussion with the publishers.

Do you feel that your book has a happy ending or is it ambiguous?

It is happier than the reality of most refugees lives would suggest. I wanted children to be able to read it as happy, and the boy at the centre of the book is a cheerful, outgoing character so I think he would flourish. I’m not sure his mother would find it so easy.

Is there a need for more political books for young children?

I don’t think children care much about party politics, and who can blame them, but they are curious about an increasingly complicated and inter-connected world. Picture books are a very flexible and relatively cheap way of introducing all sorts of new ideas, emotions and information. Nice, decent adults tend to feel that children should be shielded from politics, and I can see their point but, if we’re not careful the only voices they hear on these subjects are ignorant and shouty.

kate milnerYou started life as an illustrator but then became a children’s librarian. Do you think you have a special insight into what children want from a picture book by being blessed with these two different but rewarding careers?

Working in a library certainly made a huge difference to me. Being surrounded by children’s books all day was really inspiring. My job involved reading out loud to groups of children and reading a book out loud is such a good way of discovering if it works or not. Too much detail about the thoughts and feelings of farmyard animals bored me as well as the children I was reading to.  Knowing something about children has been a huge advantage in one respect, I know that they are curious about many more things than they are sometimes given credit for.

Can you tell MinervaReads readers a little bit about your next project/book?

I am working on a very different kind of book for Pushkin Press, a novel for middle grade children with illustrations. It’s called Duncan and the Googleys and it’s a serious book with jokes about the way modern media works for children and against them. I am also looking forward to doing more projects in the vein of My Name is Not Refugee and I’m working on an idea at the moment.

What is your favourite picture book?

My current passion is for The Railway Passage by Charles Keeping published in 1974. It is a  strange tale about a group of old people winning money on the football pools and the perils of wealth. I love it because it conjures a whole world of people and places, and because the drawing is superb.

What advice would you give budding illustrators or authors?

The very worst plan is to produce work that you think will be commercial. It won’t be, it will just be derivative and stale. Make work that matters to you, make it as fun and lively and real and magical as you possibly can.

Congratulations again on your win, and thank you for answering my questions. You can buy Kate Milner’s My Name is Not Refugee here.

Summer 2018 Round-Up

It’s hard to believe we’re at another summer break for MinervaReads. The blog doesn’t operate in August, so at the end of July on the home page I leave a full list of summer reads and releases that you might find interesting. There was such a huge selection this year, I found it difficult to make my pick.

raj and the best day everpetratropical terry

Picture Books

If you’re looking for a picture book that sums up your summer with your pre-schooler, then you’d be hard pressed to find a more endearing, real and funny book than Raj and the Best Day Ever by Seb Brown. Raj and his Dad make a list of what they’re going to do on their day out. But when Dad leaves his wallet behind, they must improvise. With a celebration of a father/son relationship, wonderfully busy cartoon animal illustrations and a sense that fun can be had with a little imagination, this is a funny, up-lit picture book.

Further use of imagination in Petra by Marianna Coppo in this skilfully intelligent, minimalistic picture book. Petra is a pebble with a misguided sense of identity, although gradually she learns she has the potential to be many things thanks to her imagination and her literal journey. The understated-ness of the book lends to its charm, and readers will enjoy exploring Petra’s resilience in adapting to her new discoveries about who she is. Quirky and full of emotion. For a pebble, that’s saying something.

Issues of identity arise in Jarvis’s Tropical Terry too – a picture book fully exploiting the colours and shapes of the sea. Terry is a dull-looking fish, although it makes him excellent at hide-and-seek. But when he dresses up as a tropical fish, he gets more than he bargained for. Being happy with who you are and discovering your strengths, as well as valuing your real friends, is a great message.

the girlsswan lake

Others to look out for this summer include The Girls by Lauren Ace, illustrated by Jenny Lovlie, which celebrates friendship and inclusion between four little girls with joyful light and breezy illustrations, and Swan Lake by Anne Spudvilas, a dark and brooding visualisation of the ballet story that will haunt and delight in equal measure. The illustrations conjure up the movement of the dance; and the zoom into the chandelier and dresses is simply phenomenal. Sure to cast a spell.

hello horse

The summer is a great time to take up a new hobby. I swear my parents only took me riding for the first time in a freezing cold frosty mid-December to put me off the experience, but youngsters with an eye on the horses will be enthralled with Hello Horse by Vivian French, illustrated by Catherine Rayner. Charming, informative and with the most exquisite illustrations, this is a nature storybook that seeks to inform about aspects of horse care whilst telling a gentle story. The watercolours of the fields and wildflowers exude a sense of summer country days, and the texture of the horse is so appealing and nuanced that it will turn the reader’s head.

Young Fiction/Independent Readers

secret sevenknights and bikesbeano

For young fiction readers, Pamela Butchart has updated The Secret Seven series by Enid Blyton, and the first is published in July – Mystery of the Skull. Butchart brings her exuberance and fast-paced story-telling, and although it’s stuck with Barbara, Jane and co, and so lacks a modern diversity, the first adventure is jolly good fun, and just as addictive as the original Blyton tellings.

From new publisher Knights Of, comes Knights and Bikes by Gabrielle Kent, illustrated by Rex Crowle. As anticipated, this is a romping energetic adventure story on bikes that explores the wonders of friendship, with a quest to solve, and mentions of water balloons, frisbees and much more. A bit wacky, highly illustrated, and with a computer game to follow, this should be a well-thumbed mystery.

My own kids adore Saturdays, mainly for the postal delivery of the weekly Beano, so this summer will be fabulous when they discover Dennis and the Chamber of Mischief, as told by Nigel Auchterlounie. Full text interspersed with black and white cartoon illustrations, and a chatty interactive adventure in Beanotown. Perfect for a longer read.

Junior Fiction/Middle Grade/Fluent Readers

boy underwaterplanet staniguana boy

Junior fiction or middle grade readers may not want to read Boy Underwater by Adam Baron, illustrated by Benji Davies, next to the swimming pool, but it’s a compelling, sometimes sad read that will keep children hooked. Cymbeline Igloo has never been swimming, and his first foray into the pool alongside his classmates isn’t pretty. But it has longer-lasting effects upon his mother, and before long, old family secrets are exposed, and Cymbeline’s life will never be the same. Baron explores loss with pathos and empathy, but also adds brilliant touches of humour with his narrator’s wry voice, as well as a satirical look at privilege, and wise words about life in general. No wonder it was a Waterstone’s Book of the Month. Unmissable.

If you’re looking for funny, try Planet Stan by Elaine Wickson, illustrated by Chris Judge. A friendship adventure story packed with space facts and diagrams and charts, and yet also with hilarious survival tips. Or Iguana Boy Saves the World with a Triple Cheese Pizza by James Bishop, illustrated by Rikin Parekh about Dylan, whose superpower is being able to speak to iguanas. Perhaps not the best superpower to own. But if there were no other superheroes, it’d all be down to him. Funny, and with comic-strip illustrations.

the goose road

For a sensuous summer read, historical The Goose Road by Rowena House is set during World War I, and explores France through the eyes of Angelique, desperate to hold onto her farm until her brother can return home from the Front. Packed with detail, and charmingly poignant, this triumphs a girl with ultimate resilience in a desperate time.

YA/Teen

its a wrapthe lost witchmud

For YA, the choice this summer is really fantastic. For an accessible, funny, warm teen read you’ll want to devour the Waiting for Callback trilogy by Perdita and Honor Cargill. The third in the trilogy has just been published – It’s a Wrap. The characters are rounded, real and raw, the situations dramatic and often hilarious, and the prose so readable you’ll forget where you are.

The Daddy of YA is back in town – Melvin Burgess has a new novel out for teens called The Lost Witch. His novels have never been for the fainthearted and this is no different – stark imagery that fixes in the mind, an exploration of the power and manipulation in relationships through use of a well-crafted other world, and a prosaic dance with the natural world in looking to what is wild and tame within ourselves. A master of twists and turns, here Burgess has intertwined an adept hand at fantasy whilst still retaining the grittiness of real life. Exciting, dangerous – for older teens.

Other teens will prefer the more contemporary and reality-based Mud by Emily Thomas, with a teen voice that showcases sophistication. Set in 1979, it explores what happens when Lydia’s father announces he is selling their house and moving Lydia and her three older siblings to live on a barge with his new girlfriend and their family. Filled with complicated relationships, forgiveness and learning to make do, this is a fascinating read.

a boy called ocean
From river to ocean, A Boy Called Ocean by Chris Higgins tells the story of Kai from multiple points of view. Kai has always been best friends with Jen since he moved to Cornwall when he was small. But now Kai’s feelings have started to change, and then he makes a snap decision and finds himself stranded at sea. With Jen on land, and an ocean between them, this is a different kind of romance.

Activity Books

seashore watchercolossal city counthoakes island

If you’re looking for interactive activity-led books then Seashore Watcher by Maya Plass has a summery feel and handily comes in a ziplock bag for practical use. As well as information about identifying different coral and shells, there are activities, factfiles and more. The full-colour photographs are fascinating and wondrous. Colossal City Count by Andy Rowland is like a Where’s Wally with numbers and world cities. Practise identifying clues and counting villains to solve the crimes committed city by city. Have great fun spotting how many Victoria sponges there are in London!

Lastly, and the one we’ll be taking on holiday, is Hoakes Island by Helen and Ian Friel. This puzzle adventure book – a collection of diary entries, maps, notes, puzzles and all sorts, leads to the clue as to where Henry Hoakes has gone – the owner of the amusement park. There’s a red magnifying piece for assistance, a group of talking animals, and letters that aren’t in order. Maths, comprehension, observation skills are all needed to solve the puzzle – but there’s also an intriguing adventure story within. For ages 7-11. (The answers are at the back, but don’t peek. It’s worth the challenge).

Do come back in September. I have the best books of the year to recommend to you – they’re dropping thick and fast for the autumn. You’re in for a cracking reading time as the nights draw in, and the weather cools down!

Joy by Corrinne Averiss, illustrated by Isabelle Follath

joy
What makes us happy? Is it our genetic makeup, our life circumstances, our achievements? We constantly strive to be happy, but happiness can really only be a fleeting sensation, for without experiencing some low points in between, we wouldn’t know what happiness is.

The little girl called Fern in the picture book Joy also strives to find what happiness is, and to catch it. She is a lively active girl, with a hearteningly good relationship with her grandmother, who bakes butterfly cakes, and smiles. But one day, her grandmother – Nanna – seems down. The colour has ebbed from her page, her paintings hang skewwhiff, there are cobwebs on the mantelpiece, and a wheelchair where once there were cakes.

Fern asks her mother, who tells her that the joy has gone out of Nanna’s life, and so Fern endeavours to capture some to take to her. This brings on a beautiful few pages that try to capture where Fern finds joy – getting the giggles, or dancing with her father. In the end, the feeling is summed up with a ‘whooosh’.

Unfortunately, Fern can’t package this whooosh of joy for her Nanna – it won’t fit in her cardboard box, or stay in her butterfly net. And yet, when she goes to Nanna and spends time telling her about her joyful exploits, the joy comes back into the room in a phantasmagoria of colours. And once more there are butterfly cakes.

The illustrations are both fresh and traditional. Nanna is pictured as a stereotypical older woman – white hair in a bun, glasses on a string, and in an old-fashioned armchair. And yet the butterflies rise from a cake in a stunningly fresh kaleidoscope cascade. Fern plays with old-fashioned toys, and yet the people in the park are a diverse mix – some seem from today, others even from Edwardian times. Perhaps because ultimate happiness doesn’t change over time.

In fact there are numerous devices here to bring happiness to the reader. The contentment on Fern’s face, the use of the word ‘whooosh!’ to express how Fern feels about happiness or joy, the beautiful colour wheels used to express the bounce of a puppy, the chuckle of a baby, and the repetition of the happy words.

Follath’s exploration of colour, using mainly ink, pencils and watercolour is exceptionally stunning here, quite literally bringing joy to the reader. The careful delineation of the park and all its various elements, the exquisite ability to capture innocent expression in Fern’s face as she gathers her catching materials, and of course the abstract spreading of colourful ‘joy’ throughout.

Some negative comments on the book have pointed to how easily it offers a way out of Nanna’s depression, and doesn’t give the illness the gravitas it deserves. I’d disagree. Moments of sadness don’t always equate to depression. In fact Nanna is shown with all the colour seeped from her world, but so is Fern too at one point – when she finds she can’t capture joy in a bag. She isn’t suffering from depression – it’s a momentary sadness, just as happiness and joy can be momentary too. Nanna’s does seem prolonged, and some readers have suggested, more serious – but there’s little harm in showing young readers that there are good days to be found even with periods of persistent sadness.

There is no reason given for Nanna’s sadness, although I speculate it’s more about ageing than it is about depression, but the essence of the book is not to explore this. It’s to explore happiness – and that it’s not equated with ‘taking’ behaviour, in terms of what we have or possess. Joy isn’t in our possessions in the same way that it isn’t something that can be physically possessed. Instead, happiness is about ‘giving’ behaviour – about giving of ourselves to others, and by that making them and us feel good. Fern’s time with Nanna gives the greatest joy to them both.

And within the book it’s this inter-generational behaviour that stands out for me. The book shows what joy it can be for different generations to connect and develop an ongoing interdependent relationship. And how emotion is transient. You can buy it here.

if all the world wereAnother book that deserves a mention and seeks to explore this relationship is If All the World Were by Joseph Coelho, illustrated by Allison Colpoys. This picturebook is about exploring the death of a grandparent, but deals with it sensitively. What it does have in common with Joy is to explore the quality of the time that the grandfather and his granddaughter spend together -through the different seasons and engaged in different activities. And they have created a vast bank of memories for the girl to hold onto.

Coelho is a poet and it shows in the lyrical text, which is both touching and filled with analogies and metaphor. There are also hints of cultural inheritance, as the grandfather imparts his own childhood stories to his granddaughter. Of course the book is laden with loss, but the intimacy and warmth of the colourful illustrations lessen the load, and what remains is the inherent tenderness of this intergenerational relationship. You can buy it here.

Fabulous Fashion

fabulous hat
When I was a little I was obsessed with a small picture book called The Fabulous Hat by Joan Hickson. It’s out of print now of course and sells second-hand for about £20, but then it was a small 32 page pint-glass sized book illustrated with the most luscious psychedelic drawings. (It was published in 1970).

My fascination was not only with the dazzling bright pinks and oranges, but also with the fact that the main character, a small girl called Louisa, goes shopping with her cool older sister in an array of wonderful clothes shops but everything she tries on is too big, whilst her sister looks fabulous in everything and buys it all. Louisa gets fed up but finally finds a hat, which is indeed fabulous.

And of course to my eyes now, the hat is far from ‘fabulous’ – it looks like a shower cap.

polka dot shopFashion, and retro fashion, or vintage, is near the top of the agenda in Laurel Remington’s new book The Polka Dot Shop. But Remington brings it right up to date in this very modern tale about a girl living with her single, depressed mother, and trying to make the right choices – in friendships, fashion and finally business.

Andy’s mother runs a kooky boutique selling vintage clothes, but unfortunately it’s not doing very well. Meanwhile, her school decides to revert to a non-uniform policy, and what everyone wears to school becomes super important. (And every mother’s worst nightmare I should imagine). Andy’s wardrobe is full of her mum’s shop cast-offs – pre-owned clothes and accessories, and none of it passes the fashion police test. She longs to buy brand new high street clothes.

Then Andy finds a bag of designer goodies in the shop, and everything changes – just not quite in the way she expects.

Not only is this a heart-warming tale of friendship and first romance, written in an easy-going contemporary style, but if the reader digs deep, they’ll find a story that resonates deeply with modern life. The throwaway culture of our modern clothes obsession – buying cheap and disposable clothing, the disintegration of neighbourly awareness and community that goes hand-in-hand with the demise of our local high streets, and a creeping proliferation of mental ill-health.

That’s not to say this is a depressing novel – not in the slightest. In fact, the text and content is bouncy and full of warmth; with zest for life and hope for the future. Remington shows that the relationship between the generations is key for future prosperity – (not monetary) but finding fulfillment. When Andy and her friends reach out and learn from the histories of the older generation – particularly the man who runs the fish and chips shop next door – and when Andy reaches out to understand her own mother, then things fall into place, and Andy and her friends can hatch a plan for the future that benefits all.

What’s also magical is that Andy makes plenty of mistakes. She learns to fail and by failing, learns to succeed. It’s good to find this message in a book for this age group.

By connecting to the past and learning from it, Andy finds a new future for herself and her mother. And it’s the cast of characters around her that helps too – Andy finds it hard to make friends, and when she does, they each have their own challenges but create a support network and camaraderie to help each other through. When Andy meets her ‘boy next-door’, and they communicate properly, they are able to finish the project they started in winning style.

This is a fabulous book that doesn’t need psychedelic illustrations to bring it to life. It’s bursting with life and energy already, and would look good on any catwalk. I have a signed copy of this book to giveaway. Just find me on twitter @minervamoan and RT my tweet about the book. Or you can buy it here.

octopantsSticking with clothes, but for younger readers is Octopants by Suzy Senior, illustrated by Claire Powell. This cheeky little picture book is published on 12th July, and in rhyming verse encompasses all my woes of looking for the perfect pair of jeans.

Octopus is looking for the perfect pair of pants. He’s laughed out of town by the shop sellers who explain that he has too many legs, and has no luck surfing the net either. Then the octopus discovers the Undersea Emporium, staffed by a seahorse, and filled with clothes (even with pockets) for all types of sea creatures. They still don’t stock octopants, but a little twist in the tale means that the octopus goes away happy.

Cartoon fish are probably every illustrator’s dream, in that there are so many colours, shapes and sizes to play with. Here, Powell has had great fun playing on words such as ‘surfing the net’ with her underwater scenes. All the illustrations are bright and endearing and bursting with colour and movement, and she’s managed to bestow a full range of emotions on the sea creatures, at which younger children will delight.

It’s often the small touches that turn a picture book from something ordinary into the extraordinarily popular, and the team behind this one have put in all sorts of fun jokes for both adults and children. Look out for the sign outside the changing room, the queues, even the title of the undersea newspaper. Just as Aliens in Underpants and The Queen’s Knickers remain firm favourites in the library and at home, I have a feeling that Octopants is going to continue the underwear success. It’s anything but pants. You can buy your own pair of octopants here.

 

Art for Art’s Sake

Art is crucial in a child’s development. Children can improve their motor skills just by picking up a pencil, paintbrush, roller or sponge. Their first impressions of mathematics come from colours, shapes and patterns, and their first experiences of material science may be in their choice of chalk or paint or lead. In fact, the act of creativity itself gives them self-confidence. So it’s no wonder that so many picture books, activity books and non-fiction for young children use art as a basis for story, information and play.

More than ever, in a world filled with marketing logos and graphic design it’s important for children to learn discernment around pictures – what is each piece of visual information showing them? How can they interpret it, criticize it, learn from it? And what better way to teach them cultural awareness than through picture books that pick up on great art. (And there are fun references for adults too).

Shifty McGifty and Slippery Sam Masterpiece
Shifty McGifty and Slippery Sam: The Missing Masterpiece by Tracey Corderoy and Steven Lenton
This is the latest adventure about our two endearing canines, Shifty and Sam, one time robbers who have reformed and become famous bakers. The two dogs are in Paris to bake a gingerbread Eiffel Tower in their latest rhyming picture book. But of course, there is trouble afoot in the art gallery, and when art thief Monsieur Sly the fox steals the masterpiece a chase down the Seine ensues.

With mischief galore, and Parisian images, as well as dogs taking the place of humans in familiar famous paintings, this is a light and scrumptious read. A colour palette that brings out the essence of Paris with its café awnings, trees in blossom, and busy sidewalks makes this a truly European holiday read.

As well as the French landmarks, there is great characterisation that follows through the story (as always in this series), a superbly baked plot and numerous details, including introduction to French vocabulary. C’est tres bien. You can buy it here. And I have one signed copy to give away! Just find me on twitter @minervamoan and RT the link to this article.

bobs blue period
Bob’s Blue Period by Marion Deuchars
Continuing the theme of animals and art, Bob’s Blue Period explores the emotions of feeling sad. Bob the bird’s best friend is Bat and they love to paint together. But one day Bat goes away, and Bob is left feeling sad. When he paints, everything is blue. Eventually, the other birds show Bob a beautiful world of colours in the sunset, and he begins to see how he might continue on without his friend – and then Bat returns.

As well as exploring an artist’s use of a palette to express himself, the book encourages a sense of perseverance, of seeing how important it is to recognise the good in the world even when feeling down.

And in front of this message is a huge amount of humour and expression in the illustrations. Deuchars draws Bob from beak to toe with drama and pathos, exploring all his activities and all his thoughts; from laziness and contentment whilst playing computer games, to concentration at cricket, to despair when Bob is shown slumped on a chair. The adult can spy references to famous artists too, and will bask in the beauty of the book’s illustrations. A blue period to treasure. You can buy it here.

 

art masterclassArt Masterclass with Van Gogh by Hanna Konola
This great activity book takes the young reader through all the elements needed to understand Van Gogh’s painting style, and to try to mimic some of the techniques. The book is methodical in approach, leading the reader through who the artist was, and a timeline of his life, before getting into the nitty gritty of which tools to use – how to get the feel of the pencil or brush, and then graduating to copying, making marks, looking for ways to create perspective and mood, adopting different colour palettes, and understanding Van Gogh’s own grid system. It also looks at a painting’s arrangement, and steers the reader/artist through various famous paintings and formats, including landscape and still life. There are lots of ‘extras’ at the end of the book too, including stickers and a pull-out poster, which can be used within the book to create the reader’s own masterpiece.

This is a well-thought out and informative picture book, with no activity too difficult for the reading level. There’s also plenty of stimulus for thought around the paintings: including true representation, emotion and using outside inspiration. Really fun and educational too. You can buy it here.

 

great dogGreat Dog by Davide Cali, illustrated by Miguel Tango
An intriguing picture book, with much to discern and yet also leaves the reader slightly puzzled. The book is presented as a series of portraits of familial members – the father dog – dressed in a sports coat, tells his child about the different portraits in the family hall. Behind each portrait though – of each ‘great dog’ – is an illustration that belies this truth. The ‘great police officer’ for example, a proud bulldog, is seen through the gatefold as missing the crime that is going on behind his back. Likewise the ‘great teacher’ is seen behind the portrait as letting the children run riot in the classroom. Throughout the book the child of the father dog asks ‘What About Me?’, the implication being that the child wants to know if he/she will also grow up to be great.

The twist at the end is that the child is revealed to be a cat – ‘You will be a great dog or great cat,’ according to the father, and so the book turns into a tale of unconditional love rather than familial pressure.

An odd book in some ways, but fascinating to explore the intricate line drawings behind each portrait to see the dog’s true character, and a lovely sophisticated colour palette of gold and turquoise, which adds an artistic emphasis to the book. You can buy it here.

Yuval Zommer sketches

A few weeks ago I featured the new book by Yuval Zommer, The Big Book of the Blue. Yuval’s illustrations are distinctive among today’s crop of children’s illustrators – playful and cartoonish, populating his exquisitely edited Big Book nonfiction series with a sense of fun and also knowledge. Here, Yuval gives an insight into his drawing process:

I loved working on The Big Book Of The Blue and now that the book is out I often get asked “what was your favourite animal to draw and why?” But I have so many favourites…

I’ll start by telling you that the animals I found most challenging to draw were the Dolphins, they already have a naturally friendly smiley expression and I really didn’t want them to look too cute. I first thought the Sharks would be the most challenging but when I got to draw them they became rather mischievously endearing. Many readers seem to really like the Whales in the book, as do I, but my favourite animals to draw were actually the smallest creatures in the book.

Here are a couple of examples of what I call ‘moods’ (rather than sketches) that I would do as preparation for the book:

Yuval Zommer

I loved drawing these Coral Reef Fish. Here Mother Nature really excelled herself when it comes to flair: these tiny fish who flit brightly among the corals have the most delicate features, almost transparent fins and tails, some gorgeous abstract patterns and splashes of vibrant colours. In my ‘mood boards’ I first try to capture the essence of the animals, how they move together as a fish shoal, what’s the overall colour palette, the corresponding flora etc. Even in a group in which every fish looks almost identical, if you look closely you’ll see there are subtle differences so that each of my fish is still an individual 🙂

Yuval Zommer

Not everyone likes the Crustaceans group, otherwise known as Shellfish, but to me they were some of the most interesting creatures to draw. Crabs, lobsters, shrimp and krill all belong in this ocean family; each has a hard skeleton on the outside of the body. I love how they make such intricate ‘alien like’ shapes with their claws and multi limbs. Also, if you look closely at each shellfish there are so many beautifully blended tones of orange or pink or coral. One of my favourite pages in the book turned out to be the Krill. It’s set at night time and I managed to show a swarm of tiny krill all shimmering under the surface of the sea!

With many thanks to Yuval. Take a look at the book yourself here, and see more of Yuval’s fantastic drawings. 

 

Spring 2018 Picture Books

Picture books is a genre that groups books together because of their format rather than their content. The books reviewed below are all strikingly different – some we may think of as traditional picture books in that they’re aimed for younger readers and impart a funny story using animals as characters, and often deliver a message while doing so. But I’ve also covered some books for the slightly older reader in my ten picture books picks of this season, in no particular order:

a bear is a bear
A Bear is a Bear (except when he’s not) by Karl Newson and Anuska Allepuz
A wonderfully simpatico book about a tired bear who forgets who and what he is until a good sleep sees him wake up refreshed and knowledgeable. He tries to be all kinds of animals, from a bird to a fox, but the other animals’ habitats, behaviours and eating habits do not suit his skills and sensibility. After hibernating, he rediscovers the truth and finds his appetite. This is a warm and humorous book with rhyming text, a delightful exploration of the seasons through illustration, and the introduction of woodland creatures, including a moose. The text is written in an invitingly read-aloud style, as if the reader is a narrator talking to the bear. Endearing, friendly and colourful. You can buy it here.

i do not like books anymore
I Do Not Like Books Anymore! by Daisy Hirst
Another one for the fairly young, this will also be a favourite among teachers trying to encourage first time readers to push through. Characters Natalie and Alphonse first appeared in Alphonse, That is Not Okay To Do, primarily about sibling relationships, but this story takes these two little monsters through the course of learning to read. Although they adore books and stories, Natalie starts to struggle to learn to read and in the process, becomes disillusioned about books. With some help from her little brother, Alphonse, Natalie comes up with a strategy to rebuild her confidence, and before long stories and books are favourites again. A fantastic tale about perseverance that is close to home for many readers. Hirst is particularly clever in portraying a familiar domestic environment, with the monsters in typical childlike poses – be it on a swing or reading with legs in the air, sitting on a bus or playing in the bathroom. Look out for the wider cast of characters – a simple but effective way of drawing our modern world. You can buy it here.

almost anything
Almost Anything by Sophy Henn
On a similar theme, although not so specifically on reading, this is Henn’s message that anyone can do anything if they put their mind to it. George is a rabbit with somewhat downcast ears. Everyone else in the woods is busy (birds who play chess, a squirrel who reads, a mouse who knits), but George doesn’t feel confident doing anything, and so does nothing. It is only when Bear comes up with a simple yet cunning plan that George finds the confidence to attempt everything and stop at nothing. Despite Bear’s scruffy looking appearance, she comes up trumps with wisdom, ensuring and inspiring self-belief in others. With Henn’s gentle colour palette, and deceptively simple plot and illustrations, this is a clever, inspirational little picture book that captures the essence of finding confidence, having a go, and importantly, enjoying oneself too (as well as, may I suggest, respecting the wisdom of elders). You can buy it here.

dinosaur juniors
Dinosaur Juniors Happy Hatchday by Rob Biddulph
Long a fan of Biddulph’s simple, almost monosyllabic, rhymes, it seems this author/illustrator can do no wrong. With this first of a brand new series, he has now turned his attention to that perennial love of pre-schoolers – dinosaurs. The illustrations are trademark Biddulph – simple shapes with almost three-dimensional texture, and a bold colour palette – dominated by green in this tree-filled landscape of our green protagonist dinosaur. Biddulph brings a range of topics to this ostensibly simple text about a group of dinosaurs hatching – from counting, to fitting in, to naming dinosaurs, to friendship. Greg is the last to hatch, but is shown to be equally loved and appreciated by the end of the book. Biddulph’s bright colours and stylish illustrations will delight a whole truckload of wannabe palaeontologists. You can buy it here.

nimesh
Nimesh the Adventurer by Ranjit Singh and Mehrdokht Amini
Taking a more complicated route with illustration is this dynamic and interesting new picture book about imagination. Nimesh is an Indian boy in London who uses his imagination to turn the ordinary into the extraordinary, from crossing the road to walking through the park on his way home from school. His school corridor is fairly nondescript: a range of notices upon the wall, a few cupboards and chairs, and a wall display of a hammerhead shark as part of shark week. But the following page leads the reader into Nimesh’s imagination, as he sees the corridor as an underwater labyrinth, a school door sprouting from the sea bed, sharks, plants and fish layered upon the school floor with the staircase and fire exit in the distance. The illustrations are collage – a remarkable letting loose of the illustrator to use their imagination as they envisage what Nimesh sees in his vivid mind. The entire book is related in dialogue too – as if the voice of reason is in conversation with the voice of imagination. Children will delight in finding the clue in each ‘ordinary’ picture of the ‘extraordinary’ to come. London becomes magical in this richly layered, diverse and fascinating tale. Extraordinarily different. You can buy it here.

little mole
Little Mole is a Whirlwind by Anna Llenas
Another story revealed in collage illustrations is this interestingly busy book about a little mole with ADHD. Mole can’t stop – the book is full of distraction and interaction as Mole moves through his school day at pace, fidgeting, forgetting, and playing the fool. Unfortunately, his peers find him irritating rather than funny, and his mole parents try to find a way of helping their whirlwind son. Serena the bunny gives Mole the space to experiment and explore, to talk and to listen, and finally Mole and his classmates accept who he is. This may be an unsubtle way of dealing with an issue – Mole at one point is illustrated with luggage labels ‘labelling’ him, but the overall premise is dealt with wonderfully in the busy collage style – pencil and cardboard drawings cut out and layered on top of each other. It creates a busy landscape and shows Mole’s world well. Frenzied but enjoyable. You can buy it here.

forever or a day
Forever or a Day by Sarah Jacoby
In complete contrast, this magically calm picture book for older readers tries to explore the concept of time. Taking subtlety to an extreme, the book reads as a poetic meditation, alluding to the subject matter rather than addressing it directly. Both picture and text combine to explore the elasticity of time – the calm pictures of seaside days contrast with the rushing for a train. There is musing on ageing and how time stretches back and seems far away, as well as added humour in the time spent waiting for a bus. There is the mindfulness of being in the present and appreciating the time now. With a mixture of striking landscapes from afar and up close domestic scenes, this is a thoughtful and somewhat wistful look at how we live and what we lose as we move through life. Clever parallel images appear throughout the book, letting the reader make connections between things and people, between time when young, and time when old. A sandcastle washes away to nothing, a train recedes into the distance, days turn to night. This is a complex, powerful book about one day, and how in memory a day may last forever. You can buy it here.

red bottomed robber
The Case of the Red-Bottomed Robber by Richard Byrne
Master of the playful picture book, Byrne returns with this old-school tale about chalk who love to draw but get upset when their drawings are erased while they are out at play. In true mystery style, they investigate the ‘theft’ of their drawings, weighing up the evidence, which is chalk dust, and rounding up suspicious characters, including the scissors, glue and ruler. When they finally catch the robber red-handed, or rather ‘bottomed’, he feels unjustly accused – after all rubbing out is his raison d’etre. A funny tale, well told on black backgrounds representative of the chalkboard, children will delight in the ‘bottom’ tale, as well as the use of chalk with expressive personalities. Not too far removed from The Day the Crayons Quit, this picture book is shorter, and perfect for exploring a first mystery case, or just enjoying the colourful mess chalks can make. You can buy it here.

glassmakers daughter
The Glassmaker’s Daughter by Dianne Hofmeyr, illustrated by Jane Ray
Far more long-lasting than chalk is coloured glass, in this exquisitely beautiful fairy tale of Daniela, the daughter of a 16th century Venetian glassmaker. Daniela is miserable, and her father offers a glass palace to the first person to make her smile. In true fairy tale trope, many try, including jugglers, mask makers and trumpet players, but only the last glassmaker manages, by making Daniela a mirror in which she can laugh at the sad miserable face she shows to the world. Although it feels like a classic princess tale, there is no ‘happy marriage’ at the end, and indeed those of both genders who try to make her smile are not motivated by thoughts of a wedding. This is about finding happiness within oneself rather than with another person – and how laughter is catching. But more than this, the picture book gives historical detail about glassmaking in Venice, and shows originality and immense detail in the exquisite illustrations – and a sparkle of glass when it shatters in the middle. An intriguing, historical, luxurious picture book that explores European culture. You can buy it here.

out out away from here
Out, Out, Away From Here by Rachel Woodworth and Sang Miao
A completely different illustrative style, but also in a book lavishly produced, is Woodworth’s tale of exploring emotion and escape. The red-haired narrator of this book acknowledges in very few words that sometimes she feels happy, but sometimes mad and sad, and sometimes all at once. When things are particularly overwhelming, she seeks escape in her imagination, a wild place populated by nature, with faces in the shapes, and strange creatures, with domestic objects inserted in wild landscapes, where the domestic merges with the wild. But at the end, she always comes back to her fully domestic family scene. Miao has had fun with the scant text, letting her own imagination create crazy landscapes within the mind. The fusing of the familiar with the strange and the dreamlike colours are particularly effective – from orange skies to flying fish, vivid blue seas and unidentifiable shapes in greys and greens. The domesticity is well executed too, from the yellow mac on rainy days to the zoomed in picture of the girl with her hands in her hair as she listens to the baby scream. This is another well thought out book of emotion and intensity, with just the right balance of darkness and depth to create a wonderful narrative to promote discussion of our emotions and how we respond to them. Excellent. You can buy it here.