Review by New York Times Review
JON KLASSEN'S "I Want My Hat Back" and Stephen Savage's "Where's Walrus?," though two of the most widely anticipated Caldecott Medal contenders of 2012, didn't, in the end, get much love from the American Library Association committee that chose the winning picture book, "A Ball for Daisy," by Chris Raschka, along with three runners-up. The deliberations are secret, so we cannot know the Caldecott committee's thinking, but the single (if expert) joke of "Walrus" and the Raymond Carveresque minimalist murder plot of "Hat" were perhaps not pluses. Still, both books were strong sellers and brought deserved attention to their creators. Savage tries something different with "Little Tug," a more disarmingly modest book for younger children than "Where's Walrus?," whose wordlessness and off-the-page references to Edward Hopper as well as to "Where's Waldo?" meant inference was everything. Little Tug is "not the biggest boat in the harbor," but he (unlike his obvious predecessor, Hardie Gramatky's "Little Toot") works very hard: "He pulls, he pushes and guides the boats to safety." Rescuing a stilled tall ship, a broken speedboat and an ocean liner gone awry, Little Tug is an excellent helper. "But what about MY needs?" the little boat whines. No, not really. His problem is instead one parents will readily recognize: "What happens when Little Tug tires out?" When a bedtime book reveals its true nature halfway through a story about something other than sleep, children can feel tricked as plot gives way to purpose. But to his credit, Savage nicely patterns Little Tug's bedtime ritual with what has come before: the tall ship tucks him in with a sail, the speedboat hums a lullaby, the ocean liner gives him a hug. Savage's artwork gives the boats just the right combination of realism and personality. The harbor is a mostly serene expanse of simplified shapes, calm waters and changing skies, with a particularly gorgeous gradation of tones as night falls, and Little Tug a sturdy bright-red focus throughout. With just 100 words, including the title, this book is a good one for last call, as any demand to "read it again" can be easily satisfied. "This Is Not My Hat" is probably not a bedtime book. A plucky little fish has stolen a dapper little hat from a sleeping big fish. The fish is upfront with us about its theft ("This hat is not mine; I just stole it"), and prattles on about just why he is going to get away with the hat and the crime ("And even if he does notice that it's gone, he probably won't know it was me who took it"). Meanwhile, the pictures show the big fish waking up and methodically, inexorably hunting the little fish down until they are both deep in the weeds, from which the big fish emerges alone. Only God knows what happened, but the big fish has recouped his hat. As was true with "I Want My Hat Back," in which a rabbit and a bear provide the dialectic, the ethical position in "This Is Not My Hat" is complicated. Don't steal, obviously. But given that children's literature champions the small and the weak, there is also this: Don't get caught. Depending on where you are on the political spectrum, "This Is Not My Hat" could be a cautionary tale of either righteous class struggle or uppity proletarians. The decision to separate the action in the cool black, gray and green underwater noir pictures from the postulates of the text ("And even if he does guess it was me, he won't know where I am going") means that not all picture-book audiences will be old enough to thoroughly get it. I read the book to a 3-year-old, but it was too deep for him; when I watched a 6-year-old and her father read it together, they were appropriately and gleefully scandalized. Any picture book needs to bridge the worlds of adult and child, whether they are the tucker and the tucked in or the experienced reader and the sounder-outer. The negotiations between what grown-ups and children want, and between what adults are familiar with and children are still apprehending, provide the tension that makes children's books possible. Whether puttering along with Little Tug on the surface or swimming with the fish in the dark below, we're all in this water together. Roger Sutton is editor in chief of the Horn Book magazine.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [November 11, 2012]
Review by Booklist Review
Little Tug is having an identity crisis. The tall ship is taller. The speedboat is faster. The ocean liner is bigger. But when each of his friends is in trouble, Little Tug comes to the rescue ( he pulls, he pushes, and guides the boats to safety ), and each repays his kindness in his or her own unique way. The straightforward story unfolds across the course of a single day, beginning at dawn and ending at dusk. Savage expresses this arc with careful attention to color and hue, sea and sky transforming from dark navys and grays to purples and pinks to a bright blue and back again. The anthropomorphized vessels and crisp, flat backgrounds recall an earlier era of illustration, which adds a vintage charm to the outing. The spiral storytelling and stylized illustration combine for a book that is both a winning read-aloud and a deceptively simple exploration of individuality perfectly suited for its target toddler audience.--Barthelmess, Thom Copyright 2010 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Echoes of Hardie Gramatky's 1939 Little Toot can be seen in the pages of this tugboat tale by Savage (Where's Walrus?). But while Gramatky's tale chronicled a feckless junior tugboat's relationships with the ships in New York's waterways and concluded with his heroic redemption, Savage's book depicts Little Tug as beloved and helpful from the start. The story has the tempo of a waltz, as readers meet three other ships (a sailboat, a speedboat, and an ocean liner), each of which get into trouble of a sort, and are rescued in turn by Little Tug. "He's not the biggest boat in the harbor. But when the tall ship is still, and the speedboat's motor breaks down, and the big ocean liner can't fit into the harbor, he pulls, he pushes, and guides the boats to safety." The crisp stencil-style art, in high-contrast industrial blue-grays with brick-red highlights and grainy shading, maintains an even keel. Savage dispenses the action in mild, reassuring doses, shifting from the tugboat's rescue efforts to a soothing nautical bedtime. Readers who love ships can expect smooth sailing. Ages 2-6. Agent: Brenda Bowen, Sanford J. Greenburger Associates. (Oct.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
Baby/Toddler-This charming story with its simple text and soothing graphic-style artwork makes a graceful transition from picture book to board book format. Little Tug may not be the tallest, fastest, or biggest boat in the harbor, but he proves his worth in multiple ways, and the other vessels appreciate his efforts. The sweetly personified boats and the message that small can still be mighty is a satisfying one to share over and over again. © Copyright 2015. 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
Simple sentences and easily parsed double-page spreads introduce readers to Little Tug and some of his friends. Meet Little Tug. Hes not the tallest boat in the harbor. Readers see that the (mustachioed) tall ship takes this honor. Little Tug isnt the fastest or the biggest, either, but he proves very helpful when the other boats need a push, a pull, or a guide. The illustrations both help develop and provide the punch for the story. The geometric backgrounds of the harbor and its city show different perspectives and times of day with reds, blues, and purples, while the boats all have faces, shapes, and lines that convey distinct personalities. As night falls, everything comes full circle, and the bigger boats that needed help earlier now use a sail as a blanket and a motor as a lullaby to tuck in a tired Little Tug. Tugs busy day in the harbor will resonate with children, especially toddlers who also spend their days measuring up, helping out, and thoroughly exhausting themselves. julie roach (c) Copyright 2012. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
Graphically spiffy and textually brief, this exploration of an anthropomorphic harbor tugboat's working role tacks on a maudlin shtick in the final quarter. Savage's crisp pictures clearly compare Little Tug's height, speed and length to those of a tall ship, a speedboat and an ocean liner. Despite these obvious shortcomings, Tug helps all three maneuver safely when needed. Young children will likewise navigate through the broadly stylized images of city skyline, water reflections and ships, some of which sport eyes and mouths. An odd divergence, however, appears with the line "What happens when Little Tug tires out?" The story shifts from fact-based narrative to coy bedtime riff, ending with Little Tug being tucked in with a sail from the tall ship, soothed with the speedboat motor's lullaby and receiving, from the big ocean liner, "a great big-- / hug." Though this cute-but-mighty tug's strengths are oddly undercut by the syrupy gear-switch at the end, the bright, attractive pictures will appeal to boat-loving toddlers. (Picture book. 2-4)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
