Review by New York Times Review
SOME PEOPLE ARE natural performers. Give them a wedding D.J. or a karaoke mike and brace yourself, bystanders: It's "Love Shack" to the max. Other people, even if they're secretly talented, need coaxing. The bathroom-shower soprano clams up in public. The dude who rocks the funky chicken behind closed doors folds up his wings and refuses to boogie. The risk of humiliation is simply too great: People may judge. People may laugh. And how do we know that? Because at some point along the way, perhaps when we were very young, someone did judge, or did laugh - and the reflexive urge we felt to shake, rattle and roll? Poof! Extinguished. Self-awareness is such a buzzkill. Which is so sad. Because obviously, we're born to dance. Turn up the music and the youngest child, barely able to walk, will sway and bop to the point of collapse. Plug "toddler dancing wedding" into YouTube and you'll find tens of thousands of videos of tots at the center of attention, gettin' down. Thankfully, the later slide toward paralyzing wallflowerdom can be halted if caught and treated early. Three new picture books show how with a little inspiration, a little cajoling and a little practice, would-be dancers who have lost faith in their skills or developed a case of early-onset butterflies can conquer the fluttering in their tummies. "Frances Dean Who Loved to Dance and Dance," by Birgitta Sif, introduces a girl who, left to her own devices, would dance the day away. There's Frances, prancing in the park. There she is, balancing in arabesque atop a bench. "At school sometimes, when no one was watching, she danced with her fingers on her desk," Sif writes. "Or she gently tapped her toes to the beat of her teacher's voice." As long as only birds and bunnies are watching, Frances feels buoyant and free. But then she senses it: the human gaze. "And she forgot how to dance." Sif - whose previous book, "Oliver," told the story of an imaginative, introverted boy who learns to come out of his shell - here illustrates what happens when self-consciousness stifles the fun. Whereas Frances once smiled and tipped her head cheerily to the sky, now she sits slump-shouldered, gloomy and timid, the arc of her smile reduced to a diffident dot. Even her braids droop. This distresses the birds, "who always loved her dancing," so one day they lead her through the park to show her something: another girl, even smaller and younger than Frances, clutching a radio and, without a care in the world, "singing the most beautiful song." The scene moves Frances, reminding her of her old, irrepressible self, and step by step, inspired by the fearlessness of the younger child, she not only jigs again, but acts as ambassador of dance to other denizens of the park - young, old, fuzzy and feathered. Sif's story, sweet but not saccharine, is written in tuneful prose, but I was even more charmed by her cleverly detailed pencil drawings. Colored digitally in rich greens, reds, browns and blues, they're simultaneously handsome and adorable. "Rupert Can Dance," by the estimable cartoonist Jules Feiffer, stars another dancer who, caught in the act, wants to crawl away and hide - although in this case, the dancer is a cat. Rupert lives with a young human named Mandy who bounces off the walls day and night. During the few hours she's actually at rest, Rupert slips into her closet, borrows her shoes and gets his groove on. "Dancing was Rupert's secret!" Feiffer writes. "Cats love secrets and ... his secret was one of the best ever." Inevitably, however, Mandy wakes one night to startle Rupert midleap. "Rupert!" she screeches. "You're dancing!" The story next takes a witty twist that dance and cat lovers will appreciate. Rupert, abashed, goes skittering under the bed. But not because he's shy. Oh, no. It's because of his wounded pride. For one, his "best ever" secret is a secret no more. Worse, an excited Mandy now wants to teach him steps. "Rupert was mortified," Feiffer writes. "Dogs might qualify for lessons, but Rupert was a cat. Cats are not meant for lessons. Cats are free spirits." Only when an astute Mandy figures out how to stroke Rupert's ego does he emerge to dance another day, this time by her side. Feiffer's jazzy lines exude such joy that you shouldn't be surprised if at the end of the story your little one jumps up to mimic Mandy's and Rupert's magnificent moves. On the more earnest end of the spectrum is "Deer Dancer," written by Mary Lyn Ray and illustrated by Lauren Stringer. The book's narrator is a pretty, nature-loving ballet student - gauzy pink skirt, Earth-print shirt, twigs tucked into a headband to form antlers - who struggles in the dance studio and so retreats to the woods, to practice in "a place I thought that no one knew - until the day a deer came." Dancer and deer engage in a pas de deux of sorts: "He lowers his antlers in greeting. I lower mine. He starts to graze. And I begin to feel a song inside." Stringer's forest settings, painted in vibrant yellow and green, are fit for a corps of swans or Wilis, those spectral maidens from "Giselle," and young dancers will identify with her depiction of the protagonist, fawnlike and wobbly, falling out of her pirouettes. Ray's prose at times suffers from awkward pacing, but she captures well the odd commands of ballet teachers: "Listen with your cheekbones." "Look with the eyes in your shoulders." "Hold your head as if you're wearing antlers." Their story emphasizes the bliss of leaping with abandon through woods and across meadows, the pleasure of practicing in solitude, "when no one's there to see." Children who live for ballet will probably love "Deer Dancer" the way they love everything to do with ballet; I include my 6-year-old self in this group. But my adult self found the book sedate. To withstand repeated reading, picture books ought to possess an infectious quality, like that gregarious guy at the party who, through sheer exuberance, can inspire everyone to join his conga line. Of the three books here, only Sif's and Feiffer's made me want to dance and dance - and then sit down to read and read and read. JENNIFER B. MCDONALD is a former editor at the Book Review.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [September 7, 2014]
Review by Booklist Review
Mandy dances all day long, showing off her peerless steps to her stoic cat, Rupert. But after she goes to sleep, Rupert dons her dancing shoes and matches her prowess, though strictly in secret. When Mandy catches him one night, Rupert retreats beneath the bed and refuses to come out. Mandy hatches a plan, pretending to need Rupert's instruction, and the two dance together. Problem solved. A final spread shows a grown Mandy dancing on stage with Rupert dancing beside her. Feiffer's familiar, sketchy Magic Marker artwork is especially rough here, compounding the story's already childlike sense of whimsy. The straightforward telling, built upon a strong sense of feline behaviors and attitudes, will appeal especially to cat aficionados. Large trim size, oversize illustrations, and careful pacing make this an obvious choice for group sharing.--Barthelmess, Thom Copyright 2014 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Rupert is a gaunt, angular cat with a connoisseur's eye who loves to watch his owner, Mandy, dance. What Mandy doesn't know is that after she goes to sleep, Rupert dances, too, alone in the bedroom, leaping and twirling. He has no intention of revealing his skill to his mistress: "Rupert loved having a secret from Mandy. Cats love secrets." Of course, it's not long before Mandy wakes up and sees him, and Feiffer does a fine job of describing Rupert's distress after his cover is blown: "Immediately, he jumped out of Mandy's dancing shoes. And he fled under her bed." Mandy doesn't entirely understand what's bothering Rupert, but the way she lures Rupert out from under the bed and onto the dance floor again is a useful lesson in diplomacy. Feiffer is at his best drawing the two flying through the air in a cat-and-human pas de deux: it's a quintessentially Feifferian moment. And Rupert, of course, is a stand-in for the kind of children who need privacy and time to work things out for themselves. Ages 3-6. (Aug.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
PreS-Gr 2-Rupert loves to watch Mandy dance all day long. But what the child doesn't know is that when she goes to bed, her quiet ginger cat slips on her dancing shoes and dances the night away. Rupert wants to keep his secret, but one night Mandy wakes up, and Rupert is caught in the act. When she decides to teach him some steps, he hides under the bed ("Cats are not meant for lessons. Cats are free spirits"). Then Mandy understands and cleverly hatches a plan that ends with the two friends joyfully dancing together for years. This story focuses on the relationship between the two characters and celebrates the joy of dancing, alone or with friends. Feiffer has created a compelling, yet concise, sequential narrative that shows the importance of imagination and being flexible. Sets of three consecutive scenes are used several times to focus on a character's emotion or motivation. The mixed-media illustrations feature loose and broad line work that will be familiar to Feiffer's fans. The balance of full-page art and characters dancing against the white space propels the story forward while providing visual variety, and the large size of this book makes it great for group sharing. The main text is large and bold and done in a stylistic font, while Mandy's dialogue is in an easier-to-read font. A first purchase for cat fans and free spirits everywhere.-Amy Seto Musser, Denver Public Library (c) Copyright 2014. 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
Mandy only stops dancing to sleep, which gives her marmalade kitty Rupert the chance to slip on Mandy's dance slippers and boogie down himself. The cat's out of the bag when Mandy wakes up and catches Rupert in the act. Loose, scribbly illustrations with washes of color capture Rupert's expressive face and body, from his satisfaction with his delicious secret to his mortification at being found out. Worse, Mandy offers to teach him--then doesn't understand why Rupert slinks off to nurse his wounded pride. With a little thought (and thoughtfulness), Mandy coaxes Rupert out of his sulk and back onto the dance floor. The busy typefaces (a retro-looking geometric one for the main text and a "handwritten" one for Mandy's speech) feel like poor matches for the spontaneity of Feiffer's line. But the friends' duet--which grows larger on the page with their exuberance, culminating in a double-page spread of joyful grands jetes--more than makes up for this quibble. This warmly humorous book may resonate most with those familiar with the love of dance or the delicate dignity of cats, but the story of friendship and shared passion at its heart will appeal to any reader. katie bircher (c) Copyright 2014. 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
A feline and his girl become a dancing duo.Mandy loves to perform jazzy moves for her cat, Rupert, who only watches in return. But when Mandy is asleep, Rupert puts on Mandy's dance shoes and performs for himself. "Dancing was Rupert's secret!" Keeping that secret is of paramount importance. Alas, Mandy awakens to see what she is not ever supposed to see, and Rupert hides under the bed, steadfastly refusing to come out. Mandy tries to entice him by demonstrating steps, but Rupert, like all cats, is "not meant for lessons. Cats are free spirits." Finally, Mandy devises a plan that involves reverse psychology, meant to work on recalcitrant childrenoopscats, and a lasting partnership is the happy result. Feiffer has crafted an engaging tale of friendship, dance and cat psychology. The text appears on each page as captions under and alongside each drawingit's almost a graphic-novel format, minus the panels. The free-form illustrations, done in bright strokes of black, ginger, pinks and greens, swirl gracefully about the pages and pop off the white backgrounds.A happy romp for terpsichorean cat lovers. (Picture book. 4-7) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
