Review By HOMA WOODRUM

If you’ve read Huyen’s glowing review of Jo MacDonald Saw a Pond, my take on a publisher’s review copy of the companion Jo MacDonald Had a Garden will come as no surprise. We really enjoyed this book! In fact, my three-year-old daughter was much more engaged in this than the previous book in the series.

Written by Mary Quattlebaum and illustrated with watercolors by Laura J. Bryant, the book follows the style of the children’s song “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” but tells the story of Jo MacDonald’s garden through the four seasons. The rhymes flow naturally and never feel forced as Jo gets her hands dirty preparing soil, planting seeds, caring for the garden, and enjoying the fruits (and vegetables) of her and her friend’s labor. Extra details include the birds and insects in the garden going through their own cycles – birds laying eggs, etc. My favorite thing about the illustrations is how Jo and the little boy that is working alongside her seem to be dancing along with the song, like wiggling with worms or flapping their arms as if they were birds.

There is an implication that this is happening on or near Old MacDonald’s farm, such as an illustration featuring a bearded gentleman in overalls walking with a horse in the background but otherwise the only animals featured are those inhabiting the garden. In the comments of my review of All Kinds of Kisses, reader Sara MM mentioned that when she reads books with farm animals to her two year old daughter she explains “throughout the story how the animals live on a sanctuary and what that means (in easy to understand form of course),” which I thought was worth sharing.

The garden setting is a little more identifiable than the pond setting for my daughter as we live in the desert and have always had a garden for her to learn in. Speaking of learning in the garden, there are a few pages of information at the end of the book that make it a useful teaching tool. If you enjoyed Jo MacDonald Saw a Pond, you will love this book. If you are wondering whether you need two books following this theme I’ll say we enjoyed seeing what else Jo has been up to. A great reading selection to celebrate spring being just around the corner.

What are you planting this year? We had luck with carrots last year so those will certainly figure into our garden plans.  There’s nothing like sharing a small, fresh carrot four ways as a family.

Review By HOMA WOODRUM

How to Take Your Grandmother to the Museum is written by Lois Wyse and Molly Rose Goldman and illustrated by Marie-Louise Gay (the illustrator of the lovely Houndsley and Catina series previously reviewed on Vegbooks).  I was drawn to this book when searching for other books by the illustrator and couldn’t resist the title.  What a fun book!  You might worry from the title that the tone would be one of condescension to the titular grandmother but the story is set up as a young girl loving her adventures with her grandmother so much that when she discovers her grandmother has never been to the Natural History Museum she wants to take her. Molly has just been there on a school field trip so she gets to be the expert.

I love that the story features a little girl who is interested in the natural world – her bedroom is decorated with bugs, space posters, and dinosaurs.  I think this book is lovely for both boys and girls but it is important for young girls to have smart, curious girls to identify with.  “We’ll be doing a lot of walking,” Molly warns her grandmother, “so remember to wear comfortable shoes.”  Mixed with the illustrated components are photos of exhibits so the reader gets to see photos of dinosaur bones and animal exhibits much like you would see in your local museum of natural history.  Molly does not spare any detail with her grandmother, telling her “Pterosaurs are flying reptiles [...] Tuxpuxuara had a wingspan of 8 feet, but Pteranodon was even bigger.  It had a wingspan of 23 feet.”  The details fascinated my three and a half year old daughter.

Some notes for veg parents, a conversation between Molly and her grandma mentions T. rex teeth being “like giant steak knives.”  I liked how they view the scenes of animals in their natural habitats but many natural history museums use the actual animals stuffed for exhibits set in dioramas so those are depicted as well as pinned insects.  Another important scene to mention occurs when Molly and Grandma view the ostriches:

“I once had a hat with an ostrich plume,” she said.

“Grandma!  Did you kill a bird for one of its feathers?”

“I didn’t, but somebody did.  We don’t do that anymore.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.  “Good,” I said.  “We have to save our wildlife.”

At the end of their visit, Grandma buys Molly a rock for her rock collection and the book rounds out with details about some of the exhibits and words used in the book.  The book is 48 pages so it is not a quick read but my daughter (and I) loved it.  An endnote lets the reader know the book is based on a true story, Molly really did go with her grandma to the museum:

As we walked the halls of the museum, I felt totally connected– the connection not only of Molly and me, but the connection of life to life, of the living to the living and the once-alive to the yet-to-be-born.  When we reached the street, I hugged my granddaughter and thanked her.  No, this is not an easy world we share.  But what a joy to be alive.

Review By JENNIFER GANNETT

Authored by humane educator extraordinaire Zoe Weil, Claude and Medea traces the compassionate awakening of two twelve year olds. Both students at a prestigious private school in Manhattan, Claude comes from a background of wealth and privilege while his classmate Medea’s background is working class. The two are not friends at the opening of the book, but when an unconventional substitute teacher arrives at their school, they both hear the depths of her messages of compassion and independent thinking  in a way that their classmates do not. Bonded by their willingness to discuss Mrs. Rattlebee’s teachings, the two embark on a scheme to find out why dogs in New York City are disappearing.

Marshaling the support of some of Medea’s friends and family, Claude and Medea quickly realize that they had not anticipated the seriousness of the situation. City dogs are being abducted and sold to Hellburn Research Institute, an animal testing facility across the Hudson River in New Jersey. The children concoct a risky rescue and extraction plan, which they successfully execute with the assistance of their cohorts. The compassionate kids rescue dogs (including ones with substances still in their system) and a rat. Not content to rest on their laurels, once the rescue is complete, they also send press releases and get several major media hits regarding the abduction of the dogs and the truth about what is happening at the research facility.

There is a lot to appreciate about this book. One of the protagonists is a long time vegetarian, and the other converts to vegetarianism shortly into the story. The messages imparted by the mysterious unique substitute teacher clearly resonate with the two students, and her impressions are lasting. Though Mrs. Rattlebee’s physical presence in their lives is transitory, the seeds of curiosity, compassion and mercy that she planted continue to blossom. The story moves along quickly with rich details about the situations and characters, and Claude and Medea are smart, savvy problem solvers. One quibble that veg folks may have is the portrayal of Mrs. Rattlebee’s demeanor and appearance, especially when she channels a fictional creature using her body as a vessel. Though her message is one we can all get behind, she embodies a stereotype that may not ring true to many children today, children who are growing up knowing some very mainstream veg*s — doctors, lawyers, teachers, artists, business owners, engineers etc. Vegans and vegetarians who do not identify as quirky counterculturalists may not appreciate this aspect of Mrs. Rattlebee’s character.

While I highly recommend this story for older kids from a humane education standpoint, I feel compelled to mention that much of the success of the Hellburn Dogs (and Rat) rescue comes about because Claude, Medea and their crew engage in mistruths ranging from small fibs to significant lies to their parents and other adults. Are the two using some harmless subterfuge to speak truth to power, or are they lying, scheming kids? Are the two mutually exclusive? Parents will need to figure out how they feel about this issue. Additionally, when I read this story, it struck me that the kids could potentially be held liable under the 2006 Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act, which in part addresses animal research facilities. Not familiar with this piece of obscure legislation? Read more about it here. Claude and Medea ends with Hellburn Reseach Institute being shut down and Dr. Hellburn and his associates being arrested because of their actions. Would this happen in real life? I’m not sure but it is something for parents and other adults to contemplate.

Ages 10 and up.

Review By HOMA WOODRUM

I checked out this book based on Jessica’s suggestion as it was just featured as a 2012 Sydney Taylor Honor Book for Younger Readers. As is apparent from the title, Naamah and the Ark at Night, by Susan Campbell Bartoletti and illustrated by Caldecott Honoree Holly Meade, is a Noah’s Ark story but not exclusively so. It is also a bedtime story where the lady of the house (or in this case, ark) ensures that all its occupants are resting contentedly before retiring herself.

The book’s flap indicates that “Naamah is the wife of Noah, and her name means ‘great singer.’” Naamah sings the animals and people on the ark to sleep before going to bed herself. The illustrations are beautiful and creative, alternating between shadowy colors and silhouettes. The illustrations take center stage but the text is lyrical and reads softly while “[s]he sings for moon to fill the night [...] Over the ark, song flows at night.”

The animals are cramped but peaceful, responding gently to Naamah’s attentions as well as to one another. My favorite pages are where Naamah is looking up at the constellations of Greek myth in the sky, I think it is an interesting juxtaposition especially considering that flood stories pervade many cultures. My daughter liked how everyone was being tucked in and checked on, “[c]radled by the song of night.  Hush hush hush, good night.”

Ages 4-9.

Review By LISA ONYKAHONIE

This beautiful little story book is lovely to read aloud to young children.

It’s about the relationship between Lilly, her grandmother, and the whales who appear at the ocean nearby, to sing their mysterious and haunting songs.

Grumpy Great Uncle Fredrick reminds Lilly and her grandmother that whales were hunted for their meat, oil, and blubber and can’t see why they’re so sentimental. Lilly ignores his outburst and Uncle Fredrick stomps out of the room. That night Lilly dreams about the whales and when she awakens, she goes down to the ocean and throws a flower into the water for them. Lilly waits and waits and eventually she is rewarded when she catches sight of some whales nearby.

Read and try not to cry!

Ages 3-8. For activities related to the book, visit Jackson McCormack.

Review By HOMA WOODRUM

Billie the Unicorn by Brianne Brouhard is a vividly illustrated story set in what we learn is a world where unicorns grow plants and flowers. Billie is a little blue unicorn who seems to continually long for different pastures. She tends a cornfield but ventures into the forest to learn from her cousins who show her their skills at growing sunflowers and strawberries. She wants to grow flowers like them but instead grows corn in the forest.  With encouragement, she grows a blue cornflower. Billie grows restless again upon hearing of a queen’s beautiful garden and ventures (without her cousins) off in search of it, hoping to learn more about growing flowers.

At this point the story takes a rather scary turn as the queen’s garden is tended by a miserable imprisoned unicorn who grows metal flowers at the queen’s command. Before Billie can escape, she is the new prisoner of the garden and is commanded to continue the old unicorn’s work. Her friends come to rescue her but first grow real flowers in the garden before making their escape.

I think that the idea of making any animal, even an imaginary one, a prisoner is a topic of interest to veg families. It is easy for a child to see how different the lives of the free unicorns and the imprisoned one differ. Both have the same powers but when forced to “perform” they are unhappy and fearful. The book’s message is “be yourself” and the illustrations are engaging though I do wonder where the previous unicorn in the queen’s garden ended up as Billie and her cousins live happily ever after.

Ages 5 and up.

Review By CAROLYN M. MULLIN

In the same vein as the Grow It Yourself! series, the six titles in the Trash to Treasure lineup make arts and crafts an easy, green practice for early elementary students and also challenge their reading skills.

Books are broken up into their respective reuse material: cardboard, jars and pots, buttons and beads, old clothes, paper, and plastic. Each work generally has the same format: description of the material, what happens once it’s disposed of (landfill), how to recycle and repurpose it through a pictorial example of craft ideas, and at least 1 how-to project guide. Included activities can be a bit more commonly known (snow globe from a jar), while others are so creative that even I want to do them: a flower bouquet made of buttons or a ceramic pot wind chime.

I know if I was back in kindergarten I would have absolutely loved to dive into these works with an adult by my side and give them a go. Although there is really only one project with instructions contained within each title, author Daniel Nunn includes website links to the other craft projects. Most adults can figure out what materials are needed and how to assemble them on their own, but who doesn’t love getting more crafty ideas from the net, especially when Nunn recommends PBS Kids and Artists Helping Children?

Ages 3-8.

Review By JESSICA ALMY

In honor of Squirrel Appreciation Day, I thought it would be appropriate to review a book that my daughter received from some fellow squirrel enthusiasts entitled One More Acorn.

The story follows a father grey squirrel in the late fall, as he searches for a buried acorn. People have descended upon Washington, D.C., the city in which the squirrel lives, for a parade, and he anxiously scurries around their feet in search of one more acorn. Set against a stunning backdrop that includes Lafayette Square and the Washington Monument, the book sets the drama in the squirrel’s life — finding food for his family to last the winter — against the drama of out-of-town visitors gathered in the nation’s capital for what is clearly a monumental event.

The real drama and charm of this book, however, are in the story behind the story. Written and illustrated in both the 1960s and the early 2000s, this picture book represents a collaboration between a son and his father, Don Freeman, the author and illustrator of some of the most beloved children’s books, including Corduroy. A note at the end of the book explains that Don Freeman began the book when he visited Washington to cover hearings on the Civil Rights Bill in 1963 for Christian Science Monitor. Saddened, however, by the subsequent assassination of President Kennedy, the elder Freeman never finished the book, and it wasn’t until his son, Roy Freeman, inherited his father’s sketch books and notes that the story was completed.

The end result is a beautiful, seamless book that will enchant children and adults alike. It’s a great pick for anyone who likes squirrels, and would be particularly apt as reading material during a visit to Washington.

Ages 3-7.

Review By JESSICA ALMY

The other day, my 6-year-old was slumped over Sylvia Plath, moping. Before you assume she’s terribly precocious or that I’m semi-negligent in giving my child depressing books, however, let me direct you to a recent article on Brain Pickings about obscure children’s books by famous “adult” lit authors.

It’s true, Sylvia Plath wrote a children’s book. (I could have sworn Plath’s book was on Brain Pickings’ list — it’s not. Apparently, the list just inspired me to dig deeper. Of course, none of this explains my kiddo’s moping either, but that’s neither here nor there, so back to the book.)

Plath penned The It-Doesn’t-Matter Suit, a strange tale about a boy who lives in an alpine village and longs for a suit. One day, his family receives a package with the name of the addressee obscured, and so when they open it to discover that it contains … drumroll, please … a suit, the father and each of the boys tries it on, from largest to littlest. The suit is dismissed by one person after the other, each of whom worries about whether its color (mustard-yellow) and texture (woolly) are appropriate for the activity he enjoys most, from skiing and bicycling to hunting and fishing. Finally, our protagonist tries on the suit, and it’s perfect. He wears it around the village, and he is able to accomplish each of the activities that the previous wearers had in mind — plus, to his delight, all the dogs and cats follow him around.

If your family is vegetarian or vegan for ethical reasons, I’m sure your ears already pricked up at the mention of hunting and fishing. The book does depict a gun, a boy hooking a fish, and a fox being led out of the forest with a leash (?!). Each family will have to decide whether the depiction of these activities, which ranges from matter-of-fact to bizarre, is appropriate for them.

This quirky book is geared to kids ages 5 to 8.

Review By HOMA WOODRUM

Lavishly illustrated, All Kinds of Kisses by Caldecott Medalist Nancy Tafuri is a big and bright book that follows animal parents kissing their babies. The unifying narrative that is noteworthy for veg parents, however, is that the animals featured are all connected by living on the same farm, ending with the human mother in the farmhouse kissing her baby.

Before writing reviews for Vegbooks, I never considered that images and stories that depict life on a farm as idyllic, with chickens scratching around out of doors, a farmer lovingly hand feeding sheep apples, and pigs playing in a pool of water, is a form of propoganda. A strong word, I know, but the classic image of the American subsistence farmer is heavily marketed to children with books, toys, and songs. At any rate, I still think this book is beautiful, the illustrations really take advantage of the large size of the book and even have visual goodies like a different bug hiding on each page. The animal baby and parent theme is common enough that veg parents can decide whether to check this one out (Does a Kangaroo Have a Mother, Too? comes to mind as an alternative) but I think we’ll be keeping this review copy on our shelves.

Ages 1-4.

Do you have a favorite book with hidden details?