Recently in Picture Books Category

A lonely pencil draws a little boy for company, but his creation becomes rather demanding. Soon the simple pencil boy, dog and cat have insisted they be coloured in and before too long a whole world that the pencil has created are expecting more and more of him.

This is a delightful tale from Allan Ahlberg and Bruce Ingman that sees the return of 'Banjo', a charming pencil drawn boy. A super read for younger children, which encourages involvement, pokes fun at the reader-author relationship. I read this to a slightly older audience, a group of 8-9 year olds, and they also very much enjoyed anticipating what would happen to the pencil's artistic solutions. We loved the battle that occurred, in both the story and pictures, when pencil draws its arch rival - the rubber! This, as with so many of Ahlberg's stories, is such a treat, and one that is worth coming back to again and again.

reviewed for ACHUKA by Danielle Alder.

This was a big hit with the group of 5 & 6 year-olds I read it to this afternoon. The illustrations are a delight. Bright and bold without being brash. Full of colour and life. The storyline has a repeating refrain which soon has the audience joining in with gusto.
Nat loves his bedtime story. We soon find out why. Mum is constantly interrupted in the reading of it - carrots on the boil, telephone ringing, doorbell buzzing and each time she goes away to attend to these things Nat has a sneezing fit which turns him into Nat Fantastic and off he goes on an amazing adventure. After the sneeze, "FLASH! BANG! WHIZZ! KABOM! NAT FANTASTIC'S IN THE ROOM!" Antoehr sneeze brings him safely back to his bedroom after he variously saves a boatful of schoolgirls from a crocodile, goes to the rescue of an old lady about to be crushed by her disintegrating house and foils a bank robbery by wrestling the villains to the ground.
Bedtime doesn't get more exciting than this. Five chicks!

A big attention-grabbing title with Jeanne Willis's name underneath immediately put this picture book at the top of the waiting pile. The previous collaboration by this pair - Who's In The Loo? - won the Red House Picture Book Award and was overall winner of the Sheffield Children's Book Award. I'd be surprised if this had the same success. I found it rather disappointing. The repetitive narrative is formulaic and the punch-page, when it comes, left me feeling short-changed. The Scary Monster illustrations are great though.

Marvin the sheep with the big appetite who made his first appearance in 'Marvin Wanted More' makes a second appearance in this picture book. Together with his friend Molly, Marvin happens upon a trees of big juicy apples. Despite the abundance of fruit that the tree is laden with, the very apple Marvin wants most lies tantalisingly out of reach.

Exhausted by his efforts and the patience he has exerted, Marvin falls asleep only to awaken and find that the apple has fallen and Molly is eating it. Transformed and enraged by his anger at this, Marvin sets outon a rampage stamping on flowers, knocking over chicken sheds, frightening ducks and even biting a cows tail - this is one angry, even-toed ungulate.

Amidst a fit of pique, the very grounds open beneath him and the silence, isolation and darkness lead him to consider the folly of his fury. Eventually rescued by Molly, he returns to the pastures where he beholds a fruit laden pear-tree only to discover the very apple he wants most lies tantalisingly out of reach...

Theobold's use of the docile sheep as the cantankerous protagonist heightens the humour of Marvin's rage in this witty book which explores the folly of irrational desires leading those who suffer temper tantrums to feel somewhat sheepish.

Generous helpings of monsters, mystery and the eponymous Mrs Muffly are baked together in this tasty treat of a picture book by monster maestro, Sarah Dyer. Warmth and affection belies the type of hearsay and hyperbolic assumption that lead to the conclusion that Mrs Muffly must be harbouring a monster at home! Alongside a deliciously different twist in the tale, the book introduces imaginative interpretation and concludes through the juxtaposition of these with a much more rational, though terrifically tempting explanation. A definite must read for those keen to develop ravenous readers.

Extended across from the baseline of the animal provider – the sheep with his wool – Pelle must exchange his own skills, trade and time to acquire the assistance needed by others in this picture books that operates as a child’s externalised sense of social conscience. Roles in society, and the need to utilise our own abiities to gain access to the skills base of those surrounding us makes this a perennially valuable tale. Experience for Pelle placed in a Christian context as the newly made blue suit is completed just in time for Sunday.

A sweet little picture book whose subtle Christian message does not overshadow its imperative for social adeptness through the meeting of our needs and desires. Clear naturalistic illustrations make this book as fresh today as upon initial publication in the early 20th Century.

Look out for “The Sun Egg”, another of Beskow’s classic picture books made available in miniature format by Floris books, whereby the woodland community pontificate over the possible background and nature to the sun egg. The reality of this being something much more commonplace and the mystery weaved around it and the mythical and magical overtures cast around it make this a delightful and unexpected picture book.

Unable to sleep, Salsa finds herself anxious made anxious by her inability to waken any of the other sleeping animals. Tiring of making so much her exertions, Salsa seeks a different place to sleep and eventually recruits the aid of Cork, a passing sheep who she believes will have soporific effect if jumping a fence!

Unable to assist, Salsa eventually requests a story from her mum who starts with one that is too exciting, moves on to another that is too funny, to a third that is too scary. Salsa decides there is nothing for it other than to tell her mother the type of story that would be ideal, in so doing… she begins… to feel… a little sleepy… The ability to find rest and relaxation was within her all along. A sensitive and touching picture book where story and illustration move towards peaceable slumber.

Moving through an increasingly outlandish range of abodes, the family spend time living in the forest, in Aunty’s violin and in Uncle’s hat. The real skill of this picture book is the way its characters are depicted with such minute detail through the situations in which they are encountered. There is no dialogue within the book and yet it is hard not to feel an intimate warmth and closeness to them, evidenced by Grandpa, whom when they live in the church yard feels sad every time that they bury somebody.

Exploring change and the means employed for acceptance, this is a reflective and contemplative book that succeeds in taking its readers ‘outside time’ to experience and appreciate the ways our senses act as keys to unlock particular memories and the means via which the places we live in comes to be made home. Soulful pattern and resolve is reached by the end of the novel as ‘now our house has four corners. And out year has four seasons. We moved here four years ago…’

The decree, however, is broken one day by a small boy who breaks the law by crying. The boy’s isolation through such actions and the strength of his feelings are emphasised through his being, small-in-scale, centred on a blank white page. Nobody is able to cheer him whether with dance, song or food.

Eventually the King’s Guards catch up with him and remove him to the dungeons where it is prophesised he will be tied up in the dungeons and tickled with feathers. Feather in hand, the King greets the boy with the widest smile he has ever seen and asks the reason for his melancholia. The boy explains how his dog has died, upon which it transpires the king is wearing a mask that hides the saddest, most tear drenched face the boy has ever seen.

The King’s own dog died and to cover his grief he made the decree that happiness should be compulsory. Together the King and the boy are able to share their sorrow and their memories of the two dogs. The King then tears up the special order that makes happiness compulsory and everyone has a good cry, the first they have had in many years.

This is an important book that legitimises and validates all feelings. It’s strength in its evasion of the happy ending, everyone cries, is that – at last – the populace are able to express the truth of their emotions. This is to be greatly applauded at a time when as many as one in thirty-three children and one in eight adolescents suffer depression… perhaps, for many, childhood does not represent the ‘best years of life’ as is often purported and that care needs to be given both to listening and to letting tell if the adage is not to shackle and do injustice...