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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...

Aunty Bea tries to lure her with the prospects of the singing she will do at school. This is to no avail… Sister Ann tries to tempt her with the promise of cuddly-wuddly toys. This falls on deaf ears… Aunty Mel endeavours to entice her with the prospects of painting. This is futile. Uncle Ben and Gran try to appeal to her through lunchtime and storytimes. This is fruitless…

All ask Beth what she wants to do, upon which she replies she wants to play with friends. When it is explained that Beth’s friends are all at school too, Beth goes and is depicted playing with cuddly-wuddly toys, singing, painting enjoying lunchtime and storytimes. Will she be tempted to return home afterwards, however?

Marie-Louise Fitzpartick carefully introduces young children to what can be expected at school and the types of routine that will be followed in this gentle, affectionate book.

An undoubted bastion of the form in America is the innovative and accomplished David Wiesner. His latest picture book, ‘Flotsam’ sadly like so many of his picture books unpublished here in the United Kingdom, is a tour-de-force.

Told wholly through the visual narrative of illustration, the book opens with a full page close up of a hermit crab and an eye caught in the act of observation – a meta-narrative against the reader’s own active engagement with this scene.

A double page spread then zooms out to show the boy examining the hermit crab through a magnifying glass. A backdrop of play and of observation provides shifting scales and perspectives as we witness sandcastles, parents reading, a microscope and a pair of binoculars. A storyboard of framed images sequentially narrates the boy as he spots another crab, sets off to collect it, chases it and – finally – is caught off guard by a rogue wave.

Narrative flits to another double page spread showing the waves as they ebb away, leaving the boy saturated looking at the evasive crab and also at an ancient underwater camera that has been washed ashore.

The boy removes the film from the camera and his fervent keenness to have this developed is brilliantly captured by Wiesner through a series of framed images inlaid upon the climactic image of this double page spread depicting the boy’s eye in close-up looking at one of the developed photographs – an image from which we are excluded at this point building a real sense of dramatic tension and intrigue as the reader turns the page.

The photographs provide a snapshot into a rich and varied underwater world, inhabited by clockwork aquatics, schools of fish presided over by wise, old, octopi, puffer fish hot air balloons, turtle tenements, starfish spread eagled and submerge but emerging as islands and atolls. The final photograph depicts a girl holding a photograph of a boy, holding a photograph of an image caught in ocular recursion. Puzzling over this, the boy puzzles over this and scrutinises the photograph more closely using his magnifying glass showing a girl holding a photograph of a boy. Time spans and geographical space are transcended through the representation of these photographic images The boy’s microscope offers even greater opportunity for examination first at ten times magnification, then at twenty-five and through until seventy times magnification when we see a boy on a beach dressed in Victorian attire and shown in sepia tones.

The boy sets up his own photograph using the camera to take a picture of him holding the picture. He then casts the camera back into the ocean whereupon it becomes caught up in the marvels of the marine before finally being washed up upon the shores of a palm lined beach and picked up by a girl...

A magnificent expose of the art of observation and representation, Wiesner has created a masterpiece of reflection and imagination.

The confined space of a large hardback picture book is hardly conducive for accommodating the sheer scale of many of the beasts included here and Steve Jenkins has adopted the novel approach of depicting to scale parts of the featured creatures, illustrating the eye of a giant squid, the head of an Alaskan brown bear, the egg of an ostrich etc.

The book is appended with information on each of the featured animals providing location, food preference and other areas of interest. An impressive and innovative approach to introducing some of the world’s many inhabitants.

The story opens as George endeavours to sail his boats amidst still conditions. Willow the wind child watches and cups her hands together blowing and setting the boats bobbing and racing along the stream. Keen to feel the wind on her face, Willow sets off on a sprightly sprint with George. Laughing and exhausted, the two of them arrive in an apple orchard whereupon Willow conjures a gust of wind causing the apples to tumble. These are collected by the mysterious Roeship children who give George some of the juiciest fruits. Further downwind the Leafchildren play, turning somersaults in the wind. Entranced by the sounds of two cloud horses, George and Willow ride these bareback across the sky leading George back home to his garden gate, a reference so familiar it leads readers to postulate whether the adventures have largely been of an imagination that transcends external constraints...

Autumn and nature are brilliantly personified in this beautifully detailed work.

The summer months of June, July and August pass in a reverie watching insects in the long grasses, of hot, hot storms and of summer holidays. Autumn arrives and with it the months of September, October and November bring brambles full of blackberries, pumpkins, twiggy branches and warm, misty breath in frozen air.

The story concludes in December as Kipper prepares for Christmas, making a special present for his friend Tiger, this it transpires is the yearbook with all of the photographs he has taken throughout the course of the book. Special mention must be made of the different palettes Mick Inkpen sensitively utilises to successfully evoke each of the seasons, the blues and white of winters, the fresh greens of spring, the bright colours of summer and the golden browns of Autumn.

Bedraggled and famished, the lamb is rubbed dry, given milk and placed in a box next to the range. The family adopt the lamb and take special care of her to compensate for the absence of her mother. She is played with and cuddled and as she grows in size and strength, so too she grows in confidence following the children of the family everywhere.

Eventually Uan has grown big enough to join the other lambs in the field, where she plays games with them and has fun. She becomes a sheep and one day has a lamb herself, becoming the best mother in the world.

This is a tender, sweet story evoking the love and care that enables children – of whatever species! – to grow and develop, finally being able to utilise the knowledge and experiences of their own childhood experiences responsively.

Shortly thereafter a stampede for reading begins with each animal and creature having his or her own particular penchant. The giraffes love tall books, the geckos love stick to the wall books, the pandas love Chinese books, the otters love water proof Harry Potter, the llamas love dramas and the hyenas and snakes love joke books.

‘Wild About Books’ succeeds brilliantly in showing the diverse reading tastes that can accompany a love of books, it emphases the importance of discussion, of dialogue and of debate. Reading is not show here as being solitary and isolated, but real culture for reading is depicted. A marvellous achievement and one itself that reads aloud in a group brilliantly well and is a gift for the level of tie-in craft sessions and activities that could so easily be themed around the story.

Ben has a dog, Alice has two snails, but poor Alex is desperate for a dinosaur, showing compassion his grandfather states “A boy wants a dinosaur this much, a boy should have a dinosaur”. So it is that the pair take a trip to the gargantuan glass ‘dino-store’ – a veritable haven for those who desire a dinosaur!

After much agonising over species selection, Alex chooses a Massospondylus, a dinosaur that eats everything. Alex calls her Fred. Fred requires ample food, ample sleep, ample water for her bath and ample walks… shortly after gaining perspective into the cumbersome practicalities of having a dinosaur as a pet, Alex awakes, finding he had only dreamt of having a dinosaur, together with grandfather he decides a rabbit would make a far better suited pet!

“Playtime” explores the forms and means that play takes for different children around the world. Cidinha and friends in Brazil play tug-of’war, Sasha in Russia plays in a hidey-hole carved out of the snow, Timo in Mali plays with toy boats, Shakeel in India plays football, Giorgi in Azerbaijan races go-karts, Gianni in Albania has made a toy helicopter, families in Sudan play with animals modelled from clay Linh in Vietnam plays have made catapults from elastic bands and much more…

The series breaks down barriers of understanding and unfamiliarity by outlining areas of commonality and shared experience. Each double-page spread features a bold photograph of the children playing, a brief explanation of who they are, whereabouts in the world they are based and the times of games and toys they play with. Children themselves are given the opportunity to further elucidate through means of speech bubbles. The close of the book features a map of the world with each place featured clearly indicated through the use of a miniature photograph.

Elevated to monarchical standing, the Emperor of Abusrdia awakes from a most extraordinary dream to be ably assisted in the act of dressing by a wardrobe monster, alas however, it becomes apparent his scarf is missing, a scarf hunt is embarked upon, the fruits of which are the finding of his snuggly scarf in the nest of the pointy bird.

During lunch, the Emperor’s egg hatches into a dragon that flies off. Ensnared within the excitement, the Emperor now embarks upon a dragon hunt. After riding his trusty tricycle through the flower beds, the umbrella trees, the pillow hills and over the bouncy mountains, the Emperor is on the verge of giving up when he spots a series of footprints leading to a deep dark cave, the contents of which lead to an Emperor hunt!

There is a wonderful sense of absurd symmetry as the Emperor is chased back across the bouncy mountains, through the pillow hills, under the umbrella trees and towards the flower beds. Saved by the pointy bird who captures the Emperor’s snuggly scarf in his beak, the Emperor makes a bid for freedom, tumbling through air into the arms of the Wardrobe monster. Deciding to look for his scarf again tomorrow, the Emperor goes to sleep and has the most extraordinary dream bringing the tale neatly to its conclusion but also back to its beginning.

Much pleasure is to be had looking at the bedroom and determining those objects which branch off into the surreal to form the dreamlike land of Absurdia. Observant readers will discern the details of the endpapers as they spring from the apparently sombre and sobre to the delightfully lively and diverse. From beginning to end - and back again! - this is a picture book that will enthrall, enrapture and enrich with its enchanting depiction of the imaginative worlds of early childhood.

This comfortable idyll, however, is shattered when the King’s Chef relays his need for an animal with very strong legs to help celebrate the King’s birthday. Competitive Frog is desperate to meet the King and it is agreed that a race should be held to discern the fastest runner. Subtle, analogous reference to Feudalism, power and class struggle, form the base to this competition.

In the course of the race, Snail remembers the friendship the two share and, conscious of Frog’s eagerness to meet the King, slows down allowing Frog to win. The King’s Chef escorts Frog to the palace, though Harvey describes with euphemistic abstraction how despite this visit, he never actually got to meet the King…

A heartbroken Snail resolves to wear his running hat on his back and hide his legs inside it by day. Early in the morning, however, one might just see a tiny trail left by the fastest snails as their feet polish the floor on moonlight runs.

On the first day of Autumn Raffi awakes early to play but is distressed to see no leaves, only an ethereal, silver mist. On closer inspection he finds the leaves are still there, a single gold one drops and twirls away into the midst of the mists. Raffi chases this believing it to be a gift from Old Father Oak, but more and more begin to fall, causing Raffi concerns as to Old Father Oak’s well-being. Is he cold, or is he crying?

Raffi’s mother explains the leaves falling signals that Autumn has arrived and that winter will soon be coming. The holistic nature of the seasons for the animals is presented as leaves provide a blanket for sleep, nature’s bounty provides a feast to fatten ready for the winter sleep, acorns are hidden beneath the ground and Old Father Oak himself provides sanctuary from the snows and chills of winter, a place where the racoons are able to sleep. The racoons awake as the first tingle of spring, with all its vivid awakenings, stings through the air.

Movement and motion is beautifully realised through Mei Matsuoka’s distinctive, vivid illustrations. Old Father Oak presents as a paternalistic protector as a provider and godhead illustrated with emphatic, far-reaching scale and scope.

Events reach a head when Miss Fox leads the class on an expedition to a high cliff-top, whipping a napkin from her handbag she asks who wants to be eaten first. Unexercised, tired and with tardy minds the class are oblivious to the gravity of their situation and giggle Assertive as ever, Lily Lamb offers herself up, mindful of the fact she will be no sacrificial lamb to the slaughter led… Drawing on resources of cunning, guile (and a good hearty shove!), Lily is able to escape the peril of Miss Fox.

This deliciously dark tale, illustrated throughout with a warmth and good humour by Holly Swain, has a serious warning at its heart, it cautions against those we entrust with the education and welfare of our children. A more disturbing and brooding interpretation is possible when the desires of those who are entreated with the safety and well-being of children are recounted as dangerously as here…

Boundaries are established, yet at once are constantly being transgressed in Blathwayt’s incomparable illustrations. This allows a world of possibilities to be presented. Natural and human influences exerted upon the landscape Blathwayt portrays are shown as being at once in flux and in symbiotic harmony. Industrial and urban landscapes rocket into the rural and motifs make repeated self-reference to Blathwayt’s earlier works….

Fans and followers will discern and unravel from the panoramic pictures echoes of the blue tractor, of Tig and Tag, of Kip, Bella, Pebble and Bramble all of which combine with symphonic magnitude to a most beautifully orchestrated, highly inspiring visual masterpiece that through careful perusal cannot fail to inspire a love of life, to engender a liking for lighting and that together instil a lasting sense of liberation.

The book is a biographical account of book lover and philanthropist, Mary Elizabeth Brown (1920-1991) documenting the life long affinity she felt for books and for reading. Whether depicting the means through which books allow our imaginations to soar, manifested here by pigeons in flight, or the shelter and shade the interior world of books are able to provide, David Small’s illustrations brilliantly capture the highly personal dynamic opportunities for thought and reflection that books provide without diminishing its meaning.

Framed pictures and the rapid encroachment of books outside the parameters of each frame emphasise the extent of Elizabeth’s collection enabling an understanding of how sizeable an endowment this was eventually to be for the town. Reading is a gift and libraries, offering access points to almost every book ever published, are in a unique position to keep on giving endlessly A powerful reminder as to the remarkable community and cultural resources libraries are.

The reality of Ben’s absence, however, makes Sam appreciate the fun and the frolics, the games and the guffaws the pair have shared together. To alleviate Sam’s pinings, his mother suggests he writes a postcard articulating his feelings to his brother.

Sam eagerly anticipates the return of his brother and on his homecoming, Ben whispers to him how he missed him too. Contrary to the misguided notion that boys are all rough and rigour, with two brothers at its heart, this book legitimises male emotion and indeed the importance of communicating these.

When Frank the goldfish dies, dad shows an almost sardonic lack of restraint in his response; “Never mind, son”. Mum is more considerate towards the loss suggesting a special cheer-up treat thereby setting in motion a trip to the zoo – a trip that is accompanied by a tirade on camels, elephants, giraffes, seals, penguins and rhinos by dad!

The visit to the zoo, however, is forestalled as two African elephants have pushed down the walls meaning all the animals have escaped. Concerned for the welfare of his home, dad drives the family home to find a delivery of domed dung deposited upon the doorstep.

Whilst our hero takes a bath, a tremendous paw crashes through the bathroom ceiling. Dad rises to the occasion, tapping it with the toilet brush. Endeavouring to remove the bear from the roof, the gutter, the bear, the ladder and dad all tumble. Fortunately nothing makes for a softer landing than the arms of the bear. Dad’s opinion of animals is altered slightly as he comes to appreciate the bear but readers are left to anticipate what happens next as they lift the flap to gain access to just what is concealed within the family refrigerator!

The divide between childlike rapture with animals as shared inhabitants of the world and adult disillusionment and focus on responsibility creates the tension that drives this story and which is depicted here by Natalie Chivers' engaging collaged illustrations which perfectly compliment to the text.

Living in the Kalahari Desert with his large family makes Sunny long for a place of his own. So it is he packs his case, leaves a note of explanation for his family – replicated in photographic form within the book – and sets off to find a new home.

Sunny’s travels lead him to his Uncle Bob’s, to stay with cousins Scratch and Mitch , to cousin Edward and to numerous other family members. Lift-the-flap postcards presented ‘as-written-by-Sunny’ provide additional ‘colour’ to the story giving an intimate account of Sunny’s adventures. Gravett’s observations of Meerkat behaviour is exceptional and creates a vibrant contrast with the detailed simulated facsimiles postcards from Sunny. This is a sophisticated and clever picture-book that benefits from multiple, close readings, that does not patronise its reader and that successfully widens both field and audience for the picture-book, admirable achievements worthy of celebration.

Taking her fears to the logical, if extreme conclusion, Laura wonders why it cannot always be daytime and ponders over a world without night. Laura’s imagination and the illustrations depicting this verge on the surreal as astronomers pan the sky fervently looking for stars, as giant road-rollers level no-longer-needed lamp-posts, as confusions of chickens wonder when to lay breakfast eggs, as plants grow to ever more extreme heights, as the sun lapses into exhaustion and as there are no more dreams, no endless possibilities and escape from the fears of the everyday.

“A Night-Time Tale” is a reassuring read that challenges readers to look and think beyond their initial fears and in so doing that introduces us to impressively wide and varied imaginative vistas.

The story charts the history of the red kite in Britain beginning with the legendary veneration of the birds by the King of England who praised their ability to keep clean the streets of London but moving through to the disparagement they suffered at the hands of farmers and game-keepers who believed them responsible for the death of too much poultry and their eventual extermination in both England and Scotland.

Moving into Granny Sarah’s own past, the story tells of the last mating pair of red kites in Wales who nested in an old oak tree at the bottom of her childhood farm. The pair are threatened as a child endeavours to earn a little money from an egg-collector by raiding the nest. Quick thinking and determination on the part of Granny Sarah are able to save the brood, however and the young are reared successfully, securing the fate of the red kite in Wales.

A fact sheet about the red kite is included within the book providing facts about the birds, where they might be sighted and directing readers to sites for further information.

Childhood nostalgia and Malacy Doyle’s awareness of the importance of stories combine to make this a particularly heart-warming book. The story is empowering in that it stimulates recognition that as part of a community we can all play a role in conserving the diversity of our countryside and the heritage of our land. The red kite itself is a perfect and inspiringly powerful motif to capture this and Petra Brown’s soaring illustrations fully realise this.

Each double-page spread features a large illustration – the type with such minute detail that means they can be pored over for hours by those with eager eyes! The illustrations bleed into a white footer within which the narrative is told utilising a mixture of text and snapshot illustration providing vignettesin a hybridisation of the picture book and graphic novel forms. Maps included within the footer section make it possible to chart the family’s journeys and adventuring and give an ‘as it happens’ feel.

A big thank you also to Allen and Unwin for detailing the illustration techniques used within the book – in this case dip pen and watercolour – if only all publishers would follow suite. This is a picture book with a fresh and funny style.

Published by Frances Lincoln in conjunction with the National History Museum, “Dino-Dinners” ties in with the opening of the museum’s new family exhibition “Dino Jaws”. Granström and Manning have joined forces here to outline the dietary delectations of numerous dinosaurs. These are told in verses alongside illustrations of the giant lizards dining.

Each dinosaur entry is supplemented by a black-and-white illustrated fact box, providing pronunciation details for their names, the time period in which they lived, their size and other facts. This is a great first book about dinosaurs and one that will have you coming back to find out more time after time.

Poo is the new black in children’s literature and, as is the inevitable conclusion with even the most delicious dining experience, this book ends with a great dino-dollop of the stuff…

End papers are a remarkably reminiscent abstract of collage material evoking grasslands, the horizon and the wide expanse of sky. This rich and multi-layered technique of collage forms the backdrop for each of the pages with coloured pencil and ink being used to overlay additional fine detail. The resultant illustrations effervesce with all the energy and humorous expression familiar to followers of Granström and Manning’s work.

The text brims with playful good humour and chuckles along delighting in the variety and range of the English language, establishing a rhythmic pace that makes this an ideal book for reading aloud and for performance.

What an assemblage of curios and creatures are to be found there… Hairy string, a diamond ring, pineapple peel and a conga eel… children and adults alike will delight in the increasingly unusual, extravagant and unlikely items that are to be found there.

Perhaps the best thing about this book is the fact that all of the items - so accurately detailed through Mahy’s magnificent rhyming text and so vividly realised in Polly Dunbar’s attractive and eye-catching illustrations – sow the seeds for a thousand tales as readers ponder the story of how they came to be there in the first place! The keys are never found, but I think you’ll agree the resolve here is far more exciting!

This book’s success lies within the fact that it is first and foremost a book about families and about love and a book ‘about adoption’ second. It does not moralise, preach or condescend through repeatedly stating how ‘special’ it is to be adopted, indeed Lucy has friends who, like herself, are adopted.

In addition to depicting Lucy’s own need to grow and develop within loving, caring family relationships, the book also outlines the need that Lucy is able to fulfil for her mum and dad who badly want a family. The awareness Lucy has of her past is great and the text is unambiguous about the fact that she was too young to remember her time in a Children’s Home in Russia though, nonetheless, having been adopted is clearly an integral part of the person Lucy now sees herself to be.

There is a wonderful double-page spread in the book where Lucy and her father look up at the stars in the night-sky and make wishes together. An intriguing depiction of the bedroom whose walls open out into the night stars forms the backdrop against which Lucy and her father are embraced. It brings to mind beautifully the type of kinship that we as humans are able to attain when our hearts and minds are open to the needs of others and ourselves. A reassuring and life-affirming read for anyone, not just those who have been adopted.

“Get out, help out”

That is Mr. Zooty’s motto. Sam, Lucy and Mrs Taylor have little money and are out collecting leaves one day for luck. Luck favours them, as Mr Zooty, a philanthropic feline, happens to be in the vicinity.

Mr Zooty pretends to be a hobbling old cat and feigns fainting. The family take him home whereupon he reveals his true persona, giving each of the family a wish. Sam wishes for pancakes, Mr Zooty adds maple syrup, Mrs Taylor wishes for a ruby red purse to help alleviate her worries, Mr Zooty adds a new hat, but when Lucy makes her wish a hot air balloon arrives which was not what she wished for… perhaps this will take them to her wish? Eventually the group arrive at a kitten which was what Lucy wished for, but Mr Zooty’s generosity and perception into the needs of other knows no bounds as his additions to Lucy’s wish show… Mr Zooty explains how, everybody needs a little help sometimes.

There is a marked juxtaposition between the dark and overcast illustrations of the flat and the bright and cheerful illustrations that portray nature and depicting Mr Zooty's generous nature, these provide colour light and life. Characters are brilliantly realised and respond to their environments in a way that will resonate emotionally with young children heping to show the importance of helping those who surround us...

When Edwardo kicks, he is called rough, ‘the roughtest boy in the whole wide world’ and so it is he becomes roughter and rougher. When he makes a noise he is called very noisy, when he is nasty to other children he is called a nasty bully, cruel, messy, dirty… Poor Edwardo faces a catalogue of castigations. With Burnigham’s typical deftness of hand, things begin to change when he kicks some flowers and they land on a patch of earth and a passer-by believes he is starting a garden… Gradually attitudes towards Edwardo begin to change until he becomes the loveliest boy in the whole wide world!

This light-hearted but heartening picture book shows the importance not only of moderation in behaviour on the part of children, but moderation in the way that we as adults treat that behaviour, a warmly affectionate tale.

The story drops straight in, without any pre-amble, to an unnamed boy opening his front door to find a penguin. Presuming it must be lost, the boy sets out to return the penguin to its rightful location, not knowing where that might be. After rowing to the South Pole and dropping the penguin off, the boy finally realises that the penguin just wanted a friend, and a heart-warming reunion follows. Lost and Found is a touching, subtly moral story that encourages the reader to think beyond the seemingly obvious. One is utterly endeared to the silent penguin as he unquestioningly follows the boy, unable to convey his true desire for company. The unanymity of the boy is sure to appeal to young readers who will enjoy filling in the gaps, or indeed placing themselves in the starring role. Similarly, the uncluttered, open spaces between the pictures and text, and the big blocks of colour across double-page spreads leaves room for the imagination to breathe. Appealingly simple, gently atmospheric and pleasingly reassuring, Lost and Found is certainly deserving of its acclaim.

A ‘super-size me’ for the small of stature. Benny doesn’t like vegetables, not carrots, peas, broccoli or any of these… No, Benny is a boy who loves burgers – he just can’t get enough of them. In fact, burgers are the only food Benny will eat. Then, one day his mother warns he will turn into a burger and one day that prophecy comes true, so begins a day in the life of a burger, no!, a boy...

“Burger Boy” is a playful and good-humoured reworking of ‘The Gingerbread Boy’ made modern for generations grown up on happy meals. Interplay between talented new illustrator Mei Matsuoka’s hugely appealing, brilliantly colourful and zany illustrations together with established critically-acclaimed author Alan Durant’s wryly humorous text creates a wonderfully accessible, much-needed-child-friendly treaty on the importance of a balanced diet posing as defence against the findings published in a paper on June 11, in the British Medical Journal stating “a junk food dietary pattern at age three was significantly associated with obesity at age seven”.

At the rough cost of only two fast-food children’s meals, this engaging picture-book with poetic diction, making it perfect for reading out loud, might just be one of the best purchases you make! As the ending will prove, this is not so much a book about abstinence as one about moderation and balance.

Just as Kenneth Grahame’s opening to the “The Wind in the Willows” with mole scraping, scratching, scrabbling and scrooging, “muttering to himself, ‘Up we go! Up we go!’ till at last, pop! his snout came out into the sunlight…” marvellously evokes the long awaited onset of spring, Koopman’s use of intensely bright light in the forest, the vivid fresh greens of the foliage and the irreverent chattering of little bird brilliantly capture that first sense that spring has sprung.

Amongst his chatterings, bird mentions to snail the snows that fell in winter, their depth, their whiteness and cold. Entranced by this description, snail asks his friend bee about snow, but bee has spent the winter in her hive so snow is unfamiliar to her also. Through a series of exchanges, snail, bee and frog – traversing at once between them dominions of land, sky and earth are unable to find out about snow. So begins an adventure, an epic animal voyage in a quest for knowledge… Moving through the seasons from spring to summer, to autumn, the trio remain still unable to find out about snow, exhausted by their efforts they fall asleep only to awake to an unknown world in white…

Koopmans illustrations of nature are wonderfully rendered and are brilliantly accurate. His use of lighting brings each spread to life helping to create a beautiful book with an unexpected, yet a holistic ending.

This lavishly illustrated story opens in springtime. Just as many of the animals of Africa are able to welcome new babies to their family enclaves, so too are the elephants with the birth of baby Esme. Whilst struggling to stand on her own four feet, Esme finds she has a problem – something continuously trips her up, something odd that dangles from the middle of her face…

From here-on-in, the story focuses around Esme’s needs and wants as she encounters the world around her and its manifold inhabitants… When Esme is thirsty, she sees zebras drinking and wonders “What do elephants do?” When Esme is hot, she sees tortoise shaded by his shell, but, “What do elephants do?” This simple, yet clever framework forms the base for the remainder of the story as Esme learns just what it is that elephants do and the importance of her trunk, thereby realising her own identity.

An elephant’s proboscis is a strange, peculiar and fairly alien appendage, through sensitively examining its role and importance to the identity of elephants, Hazel Lincoln creates a valuable message as to the importance of assessing actions rather than mere appearance. Here is a beautifully consistent picture-book whose world is safely outlined within its first double-page spread and given character and brought into context thereafter.

Cheerfully combining poetry with expansive pastoral landscapes viewed at the eye-line of little people themselves, this book takes us on an imaginative and magical tour of the countryside depicted through the seasons. There is nothing incongruous in the fact that fairies, elves, mermaids and nymphs form a part of the populace on the pages and the loose descriptions of their actions and lifestyle leaves readers to piece together their own ‘take’ on this world-view provided in miniature.

Daniela Drescher’s short book leaves one pensive in contemplation as to belief and the experiential evidence of the senses.

Media reportage over the past year has brilliantly emphasised the role a well-balanced diet of food-stuffs plays towards children’s development. Raising the profile of nutritional requirements has created a focal-point for an agenda of change which hopefully will mean – in educational settings at least – that no child will be malnourished or starved of the building blocks that fuel their development…

At this point, we need to speak up – loud and proud – as to the valuable roles that diverse narratives and indeed narrative forms play in our emotional development. If picture books are to remain merely as an educative preserve - nothing more than a transitional stepping stone towards independent reading - as a society we are depriving our children of rich visual and textual tapestries and of the resultant dynamic story-sharing that can and does accompany such weaving and unpicking! Stories form the vessels through which society passes down its learning, its history and its sense of self… we must take care our actions as sensitive, sentient beings do not lead to the emotional emaciation of our future generation...

“No Room For Napoleon” with its vibrant and engaging illustrations and narrative typifies the kinds of adventuring and exploration imbued within successful picture-books. Aptly named Napoleon, a little dog with big ideas, at once fulfils the role of hero and anti-hero and constitutes both conflict and resolve within the book. His arrival, with telescope, on a Utopian island is initially welcomed by its inhabitants - Crab, Bunny and Bear - however, cracks in the animals' friendship begin to appear as Napoleon’s ideas grow in size, breadth, depth and impact…

As well as exploring issues of friendship and of the unwitting bullying, or manipulation that arises through the story, illustration and text operate on dual and dialectic levels exploding into other arenas to create a neat summation of Colonial intent, comment on environmental conservation through the island’s shifts from Utopian paradise, to Dystopic nightmare, and arguably of patriarchal dominance also – symbolised here through Napoleon’s telescope, a phallic construction utilised primarily as his access-point to the island and secondarily as his power-stronghold over Crab, Bunny and Bear.

If that sounds unlikely fare for the double-folds of a picture book, look at the story, think about its themes, subtleties and nuances and decide for yourself. Through empowering the use of picture-books regardless of age, ability or background, we are opening the door to infinite interpretations of visual and textual narrative strands, we are allowing readers to invest their own experiences, rationale and world-views, we are creating a base for infinite interpretation and discussion and are thereby realising just what makes reading such a singular recreational activity!

Needless to say Adria Meserve has crafted a story that motivates, inspires and truly does show the ‘dog’ in the dogmatist!

Ostensibly a book about wolves, this book brilliantly charts the mimetic processes of reading undertaken by the poor, unfortunate rabbit who finds himself the hapless protagonist in this post-structural work having curiously just borrowed a familiar looking book about wolves from West Buckinghamshire Public Burrowing Library!

If this sounds staid or unappealing, it is the dynamism between the crisp, clear, well-defined illustrations and the sparse, informative text from whence, between both, the resultant meta-narrative blossoms, that brings this highly original three-tone book to life…

This truly is a book to be loved, cherished and adored by all who value reading because it wonderfully maps the way words and pictures hold that remarkable ability to fuel our minds and imaginations, drawing us gradually further into their clutches until the boundaries between reader and what is read become blurred at the edges!

The intense preoccupation and determination of the rabbit brings to mind John Tenniel’s interpretation of the White Rabbit in Carroll’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”. Here is a rabbit who is so intent upon doggedly continuing his reading and his quest for knowledge about wolves, that he is oblivious to the fact that first his ear, then his posterior and gradually his entire body becomes consumed within the narrative of the book, ultimately to be consumed by the wolves therein…

If that sounds frightening the author quickly asserts:

“no rabbits were eaten during the making of this book”

and an alternative ending is provided for sensitive readers. If this sounds like pandering towards readership in pursuit of the ubiquitous ‘happy-ever-after’, it is worth noting this comes after the book within the narrative is laid down and is itself pieced together from scraps of the ravaged book – a concession, or something further to think about? The choice is yours! Roll on Emily Gravett's next book, "Meerkat Mail" published in August this year...

Part rant, part review, part plea for revolution…

Rant

Whatever else, we are surrounded by stories. News stories - national and international, gossip from gathered groups on street corners, astrological predictions, scientific assertions – an essential constituent of our civilisation is concern with what happens next… We have unique capacities to communicate lives and surroundings, to make ourselves feel secure in the safety, or shocked and scared – possibly scarred – by stories… With ancient petroglyphs and paleoglyphs as ancestral heritage, picture books show wonderfully dynamic ways of capturing and recording tales through dialectics of text and illustration.

It is easy to see the present always as sequential within development, as the zenith of achievement. The ‘Golden Age’ of children’s literature is symptomatic of such thinking. Children’s literature being located in a 'Golden Age' necessitates a culture whereby its contributions and worth are valued by all. Central to this, all exponents bringing literature – in its many modern guises and forms – to the masses must realise their respective positions working together to provide unilateral and unfragmented environs so supporting not only readers, but also the many producers who, through shared visions, bring us the range and diversity of literature now considered commonplace. When successfully achieved this is remarkably potent and powerful, when misaligned ramifications are far-reaching and arguably catastrophic. The decision of one major chain of bookshops to drastically restrict its selection of picture books sends ripples across the whole of the children’s literature world, impacting most dramatically upon children whose access to the range and diversity of styles and approaches to storytelling becomes restricted to that which is made visually available.

Review

From the symmetry of end-papers inwards, “Castles” is most carefully crafted. Delineation between that which is made visible and that constructed as out of view forces dynamism in the acts of reading, interpretation and imagination. A framed doorway invites us into the body of the book proper and readers are instantly propelled into the self-referential world of Colin Thompson with vignettes from previous work “The Violin Man” – a wonderful Honour Book in the Australian Children's Book Council Awards that remains despairingly unavailable in the United Kingdom – biographical photos from Thompson’s childhood (see www.colinthompson.com for details)and the ever-familiar Café Max.

Fairy tale allusions abound with references to Kings, Queens, Princes and Princesses and a quest is placed before adventurous readers as the voyage around the fantastic and fantastical castle begins proper!

Animal, vegetable, mineral… earth, fire, air, water… all are explored as potential sites for the structuring and later sightings of castle. There are mythical and magical feels to this epic picture book. Readers are provided with worlds whose inhabitants have crafted their surroundings from things that matter and hold meaning for them. There are puzzles, mazes, a myriad of minutiae for discerning readers to perceive.

Castles are seminal architectures in the history of the United Kingdom; Celtic strongholds, Roman Forts, Norman Castles these stalwart buildings mark many defining moments in forging the fundaments of nationhood. It is apt therefore that Thompson should explode these outwards into the realms of the possible, the potential and the perhaps impossible also… Like Italo Calvino in “Invisible Cities", Colin Thompson in “Castles” re-structures logocentric truths and fantasies to create impressive landscapes comprising a multiplicity of narrative strands.

“Castles” is a book that demands reading and re-reading rewarding this with its richly good-humoured verbal and visual play. Careful readers will spot sea-saws, gravyboats, references to almost all Thompson’s previous work and much, much more also... Here is a book that encourages exploration, that enriches and enlivens all imaginations. Colin Thompson has crafted his Magnum Opus.

Plea for Revolution

This is truly a book that deserves home on every book-shelf across the land, in every heart of every child and adult. I have a dream that “Castles” might start a quiet, bloodless and bookish revolution, people power for the picture book…

One answer might be when it is written by Madonna! Yakov and the Seven Thieves is the third of Madonna’s five picture-books and sports the adage ‘for children (even grown up ones)’ - presumably because otherwise it might not be easy to discern. It is not difficult to criticise Yakov and the Seven Thieves. Even the title does not convincingly match the story, in which only five true thieves are depicted. It would be callous, however, to criticise too harshly as, whatever else, one suspects that the writing of these books was genuinely important to Madonna.

The stories, though overtly moralistic, are doubtless well-intentioned. Yakov and the Seven Thieves posits the thought-provoking idea that the ill-deeds of others are external manifestations of areas internal to us that we should seek to change, or that the text somewhat predictably tars as ‘bad'. The idea itself is intriguing and one that certainly warrants both consideration and debate. Whether a picture book in the United Kingdom (where, sadly, such books are seen on the whole only as an intermediary step towards learning to read) is the best milieu for such discussion is doubtful.

Fin and his dinosaur friends are playing - learning about the ways they can use their bodies. A gang of pre-historic bullies spoil the friends’ games and Fin leads them a chase across vistas and views of his prehistoric panorama. Gradually, through a process of elimination as members of the gang discover they can’t jump, swim and climb, the numbers diminish until there is a literal cliff-hanger for hero Fin!

What happens next is wonderfully liberating as Fin spreads out his arms to discover feathers and thereby to find that he can fly. Two beautifully detailed double page spreads celebrate his first ascent.

But it's Christian Birmingham's illustrations that really drive this retelling of the King and the pageboy's charitable visit to a peasant's home. The only other illustrator I can imagine coming near to Birmingham's rich evocation of that peasant-King gathering is P J Lynch. In the following pageturn, revealing such a contrasting scene - a cold aerial view of the snow-smothered cottage and surrounding forest, we see an illustrator at work who really knows how to drive a narrative forward pictorially.

The best new Christmas title of 2005.

This tactile style continues within with collages made from cut and torn paper. The fuzzy edged ducklings look soft enough to stroke!

The story is simplicity itself. It's time for a swim, but Duckie can't find her brood anywhere. As she searches through the garden, cutaway pages reveal the missing ducklings appearing, one by one, behind her. Such pantomime humour is sure to delight the very young.

Duckie’s ducklings are bright and bold and stand neatly in single file, making them easy to count. More clear and colourful objects are waiting to be counted on every page – three butterflies fluttering through the roses, four dandelions growing by the swing, five caterpillars feasting in the cabbage patch – which make this a counting book worth returning to again and again.