Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Warburton's indefatigably sprightly and lovingly detailed illustrations help focus this grass-is-greener story. The premise is that a girl's distaste for eating peas (as opposed to sleeping on them, as in the classic fairy tale) reveals her latent princess-ness, requiring her to leave her idyllic home and doting father to go live in a palace. Warburton (the Rumblewick's Diary series) draws Lily-Rose May's new regal abode as a rose-tinted fantasy, complete with carpeted staircase, suitably snooty servants, and separate rooms for dress-up and shoes. But peas start looking pretty good after the grind of royal life kicks in, with meals of cold cabbage stew and days devoted to "three hours of waving to please all your fans,/ and lessons in smiling, and shaking of hands." British author Hart's literal, maundering rhyming ("Lily-Rose May gave her daddy a cuddle./ 'Oh, what shall I do? I'm in such a big muddle!/ I would so love to live at the palace-it's true./ But I want to stay here, in the forest with you") makes the story hard to track and may test readers' patience. Ages 3-6. (Feb.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
PreS-Gr 3-Lily-Rose May does her homework, cleans her room, and is agreeable to most anything, until. her father tries feeding her peas. She refuses, even after he makes recipe after recipe that incorporates them. The poor child simply cannot stomach peas. A doctor pronounces her allergic to them and relates the tale of a princess who awoke black and blue after sleeping on mattresses piled as high as the roof save for one pea underneath. Surely, Lily-Rose is a princess, declares the doctor, and she must move to the palace. It has all a young girl could wish for: clothes, toys, jewels, and, best of all, no peas. But will living at the castle be better than her home with her father? Mixed-media illustrations depict all the delights of a princess's palace, complete with pink limousine, but also the comforts of a simple home with family. Large illustrations are filled with small details that children will enjoy with each new reading. Pair this perfectly royal book for fussy eaters with similar princess tales for a majestic storytime.-Carol Connor, Cincinnati Public Schools, OH (c) Copyright 2013. 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
In Hart's playful loose Princess and the Pea spinoff, Lily-Rose May leaves home and moves to the palace where she can be a rightful princess who's not required to eat peas. After eating cabbage stew, enduring waving lessons, and other royal duties, she quickly learns there's no place like home. Energetic, pink-heavy mixed-media illustrations add to the cautionary princess story's humor. (c) Copyright 2013. 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
Hart and Warburton serve forth another princess with far too many peas in her life. Just by the look of her, readers know Lily-Rose May is "a sweet little girlie; / her eyes were bright blue and her hair was so curly." She and her dad live in the woods: "She was kind and polite and was usually good." Then comes the day her dad tries to foist peas on her, and Lily-Rose May will have none of it. "Her hands were all sweaty. Her skin felt so crawly." She isn't faking; the peas really do make her sick, and then comes the doctor's diagnosis: Lily-Rose May is a princess. His prescription is for her to move to the castle. No peas there, thank goodness, but there is cold cabbage stew and all the demands of royalty that diminish the allure of the big house and nice clothes. Papa and his peas suddenly look very good. The story here is meager and mild to the point of vanishing: nothing syrupy, no hard yuks at anyone's expense. What keeps the book aloft, and it does hover nicely, especially for the front end of its age range, is the sheer musicality of the verse, which slips off the tongue as if it had been greased, and the merry artwork, which is buoyant and full of colors that rove between springlike and ribbon candy. A well-fashioned, if thinly sliced, tale of the well-traveled princess. (Picture book. 3-6)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
