Review by Booklist Review
This slapstick picture book begins by dispelling the urban myth about alligators living in the sewers of New York City: To be honest, nobody has ever really seen them. Then Casey hedges a bit. Just because there hasn't been an eyewitness, she reasons, doesn't mean that the alligators aren't there. Together, Casey and Munsinger try to make a case for the 'gators' existence, and the result is this over-the-top, comedic offering. All kinds of mysteries can be explained, it seems, by adding the alligator angle. Why are manholes round? So that the pizzas that alligators love to order can be easily passed through. What do babysitters do after kids go to bed? They play cards with alligators. There is a lot more silliness than sense here, but Munsinger makes it work in hilarious scenes of the endearingly goofy reptiles marching through the human world, from summer school to a child's bedroom, where they stand in for the tooth fairy. Pair this with Mara Bergman's Snip Snap! What's That? (2005) for an alligator-themed read-aloud.--Engberg, Gillian Copyright 2009 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by School Library Journal Review
K-Gr 2-Casey pens a nonsensical tale in a humorous attempt to explain the urban legend of alligators in the NYC sewer system. The premise is promising, but the execution falls flat. The author begins by introducing the legend of the alligators, but states that no one has ever seen them. She goes on to pose some ridiculous explanations of why they must live there-New York has a plethora of hot-dog stands because alligators love hot dogs; the Brooklyn Bridge has cables so the creatures can dry their laundry. She then explains that not all alligators love city life; some of them have packed up and moved, maybe to your town. The author goes on to ask: How else do you explain why teachers take the summers off? Or why doughnuts have holes? (So alligators can carry them home on their tails.) Munsinger's illustrations are the only redeeming aspect of this story. The watercolor illustrations picture mischievous alligators up to no good. The center spread is delightful, showing alligators in a supermarket making a giant, glorious mess. However, the explanation of why they are there illustrates many of the book's flaws: "When you go to the supermarket, keep a sharp eye out for those alligators. They are usually in the cereal aisle, making forts." Why? The book concludes with an interesting explanation of the source of the urban legend.-Lisa Crandall, Capital Area District Library, Holt, MI (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review
Alligators live in the sewers of New York City. They dry their clothes on the Brooklyn Bridge and substitute for the Tooth Fairy. They love hot dogs, pizza, and playing Go Fish. A boy vividly imagines nonsensical explanations for the urban legend of alligators in the sewers, while also making up other odd alligator habits, all shown in humorous illustrations. (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
Casey offers a free-association reply to a question she heard many times as an employee of New York's Department of Environmental Protection. Are there alligators in the sewers? Of course! Pizzas are round so that the gators can get them into the manholes. The Brooklyn Bridge is strung with cables so they'll have a place to hang their laundry. They go to school in the summer, so that's where all the teachers go, too. New York isn't the only place they live, either; keep your eyes open and you could spot them in your town. In typically busy scenes Munsinger crowds plenty of gently smiling reptiles in human dresschowing down on hot dogs, painting school buses and bedrooms orange (not yellow, as the text has it) and stealing single socks from the wash for hand puppets. The afterword supplies an enlightening, if less fanciful, look at the urban myth. Fun enough, in an ephemeral sort of way. (Picture book. 6-8) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
