Review by New York Times Review
Two brothers are determined to find "something spectacular" in this clever second collaboration between Barnett and Klassen (after "Extra Yarn," a Caldecott Honor book). As Sam and Dave apply shovels to dirt, their hole grows and grows, but their goal keeps eluding them. The prose is deadpan; the joke's all in Klassen's winsomely smudgy illustrations: There are gigantic jewels buried everywhere, except in the paths the boys dig. The dog, meanwhile, is after a prize of his own. HUG MACHINE Written and illustrated by Scott Campbell. 32 pp. Atheneum. $16.99. (Picture book; ages 2 to 8) The unnamed little boy who narrates this sweet romp has declared himself the Hug Machine. Look out! No one and nothing is safe from his embrace - not his family, not a policeman, not even the ice cream truck and a porcupine. As his hug-objects get more and more unlikely, a pizza break is called for. Campbell keeps the comic effect going, and his watercolor illustrations of the big-eyed, long-armed boy have a rough-hewn charm that makes all the hugging seem anything but mushy. CATCH THAT COOKIE! By Hallie Durand. Illustrated by David Small. 32 pp. Dial. $17.99. (Picture book; ages 3 to 6) Marshall, a serious-minded preschooler, knows that ginger-bread men "can't run for real." But when his class bakes a batch, they disappear from the oven, leaving a rhyming clue to their whereabouts. A treasure hunt ensues, with more clues ("You thought we might be slow 'cause we're only made of dough"); the little guys end up asleep in a doll bed - for the moment. In Small's spirited illustrations, the children, their teacher and the "G-men" all burst with spice and verve. DOJO DAYCARE Written and illustrated by Chris Tougas. 32 pp. Owlkids. $16.95. (Picture book; ages 3 to 7) Day care is a dojo, its little citizens black-outfitted, high-kicking ninjas who run riot over the place in this fast-paced rhyming tale: "No one listens to the Master./Story time is a disaster," Tougas writes. It takes "one little voice" to remind the ninjas about "honor, kindness and respect," and all that madcap energy is put to use tidying up. Back home, where parents and even pets are swathed in ninja black, too, the children sign off with an amusing and appropriate "back-flip into comfy beds." TELEPHONE By Mac Barnett. Illustrated by Jen Corace. 32 pp. Chronicle. $16.99. (Picture book; ages 4 to 8) "Tell Peter: Fly home for dinner." That's the opening of this raucous avian take on the old-school children's game, in which the action takes place, naturally, on a telephone wire. On each page, a new bird fumbles the message, which gets increasingly alarming: "Put your wet socks in the dryer," is one thing, "Something smells like fire!" quite another. Co race's illustrations are both delicate and lively, bringing humor and personality to the worlds of the humans, below, and the birds, above. ONLINE A slide show of this week's illustrated books at nytimes.com/books
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [September 28, 2014]
Review by Booklist Review
*Starred Review* Young Marshall's class has been hearing about runaway gingerbread men for a solid week, but the skeptical tousle-head doesn't believe a word of it! They can't run for real, he declares to his classmates. No way. He gets a chance to test his theory when his class makes a batch of gingerbread men. When the baking timer goes off, Marshall leads a parade of his classmates into the kitchen, opens the oven door, and discovers, to his shock and amazement, that the gingerbread men are all gone. Horrors! Is it possible that they could have run away? Marshall doesn't buy it, but then a clue to their possible whereabouts is discovered, and that leads to another clue and another, until Marshall announces that he knows where the fugitive cookies are. But does he? Durand has written a delightfully ingenious story with an altogether appealing protagonist in Marshall. The icing on the cake er, gingerbread is Small's wonderful pictures, created in pen-and-ink and watercolor, which fill single- and double-page spreads. A wonderful draftsman, Small uses a fluid line that adds energy to an already lively story and further invests it with wit and whimsy. All of these ingredients combine to make a truly tasty tale.--Cart, Michael Copyright 2014 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Marshall, the skeptic of his elementary school classroom, isn't buying any malarkey about gingerbread men. "They can't run for real," he announces. "No way." But when his teacher, Mrs. Gray, goes to retrieve the cookies the class has made, the oven is empty. The gingerbread people have escaped, apparently, and they've left clues in verse: "We ran from the oven, we were bored and hot,/ Now we're hiding in a big, black ___." The class quickly enters the spirit of the hunt, but it's Marshall the doubter whose detective work leads the class to the "G-men." Durand (Mitchell Goes Bowling), a pseudonym for agent Holly McGhee, understands elementary-school culture and cuisine: "Marshall put some good stuff on his gingerbread man-a silver-ball belt and six eyes (he really liked raisins.)" With characteristic energy, Small (One Cool Friend) uses bold lines, liberal swaths of wash, and wry humor to draw Marshall's school and his stylish teacher: "Kudos, Marsh," she says, after Marshall struggles with the big bowl and spoon. "You rocked that dough." Ages 3-5. Agent: Elena Giovinazzo, Pippin Properties. (Aug.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
K-Gr 2-Children in day care and elementary classes will see themselves in Small's sensitive and hilarious watercolor, ink, and colored-pencil renderings of Durand's December drama. Following a weeklong spate of gingerbread stories, Marshall, a "ginger" himself, is skeptical: "'They can't run for real,' he told everybody." Neither affirming nor contradicting him, the teacher simply shepherds her flock to the kitchen, where they can draw their own conclusions. Despite a few colloquialisms that may sound less hip in years to come ("You rocked that dough"), the upbeat narrative moves quickly and offers audience participation. When the dumbfounded teacher unlocks the oven, the only hint of baking is a nearby note displaying the first of four rhymed verses that present clues for children to complete before searching for the next hint. Marshall is loaded with freckles and personality. His face undergoes myriad transformations as he studies the mounting evidence: the fallen raisin, the bad handwriting on the notes, the hundreds of tiny, brown footprints in the gym. When he solves the puzzle and recovers his cookie, his expression of wonderment is priceless. Small employs muted, monochromatic backgrounds to spotlight the jaunty patterns and colors worn by the main characters and multicultural cast. He interprets this race to outsmart a sly opponent with lively lines, flexible figures, humor, and deep respect for his protagonist. Add this to your small shelf of truly special seasonal explorations of belief, but don't wait for a holiday to share it!-Wendy Lukehart, District of Columbia Public Library (c) Copyright 2012. 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
Marshall thinks the story about runaway gingerbread men is baloney, but he reconsiders when the gingerbread cookies that he and his classmates make escape from the oven. Aside from the nod to the classic story, there is nothing traditional here, from the hip teacher ("Kudos, Marsh...You rocked that dough") to the springy illustrations of the kids playing detective at school. (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
Some peripatetic gingerbread men make a believer of a skeptical grade schooler.Mrs. Gray's class has been listening to variations on "The Gingerbread Man" all week in preparation for a cooking activity. Marshall knows it's all hooeycookies can't run. The kids mix, cut and decorate before Mrs. Gray "locks" the gingerbread men in the ovenbut when the oven is opened, the cookies have vanished. A series of rhymed clues takes the kids around the school in pursuit. Though initially Marshall suspects that Mrs. Gray has cooked up a literacy exercise to get between the kids and their cookies, a stray raisin makes him wonderand then he notices hundreds of gingerbread footprints on the floor of the gym. Those "G-men" must be napping in the doll corner after all that running! Durand has created an attractive protagonist in Marshall; his skepticism is exactly age-appropriate, as is his pride in the way he "rocks" the dough. Small's loose, line-and-watercolor cartoons feature a freckled, redheaded Caucasian boy with expressive eyebrows. (Mrs. Gray is also white, but her classroom is multiethnic.) There's something a little half-baked about the story, though; although the buildup to the discovery of the cookies is effective, the denouement sags: Just what is going to happen to all these apparently sentient cookies? A closing vignette showing Marshall about to bite his cookie's head off is downright disquieting.Cute concept; uneven execution. (Picture book. 5-8) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
