Review by New York Times Review
WE'VE ALL BEEN there at some point. Feeling a little out of place, unnoticed. If we were lucky, perhaps we met someone who, though very different, complemented us. Maybe we met a Jim and, like Huck Finn, left our familiar though confining small town; maybe we were Maude seeking companionship in a boy named Harold; maybe we were Joe Buck, the midnight cowboy in a city that never sleeps, who befriended the lowliest of the low, Ratso Rizzo. Four new picture books tell stories about friends who vanquish loneliness. In the warmly illustrated "Little Elliot, Big City," a lap-dog-size elephant named Elliot finds difficulty negotiating a metropolis - in his case, a glamorous 1940s New York City. He has trouble turning door handles, which he can barely touch with his trunk, and reaching into his freezer for food, which he pushes out with a broomstick. He can't catch a cab; one splashes him as it drives through a puddle. What Elliot really wants is a cupcake - but the attendant at the bakery doesn't notice him. In fact, no one notices this tiny elephant, despite the fact that he is white with blue and pink polka dots (he's a precursor, in a way, to Joe Buck, whose cowboy hat and shirt barely catch the attention of New Yorkers). The author-illustrator Mike Curato, making his picture book debut, beautifully renders the images in rich earth tones that are soft and smooth, calling to mind "The Sweetest Fig," by Chris Van Allsburg (whose newest book I'll get to in a bit), which was set in Paris, also in a bygone era. In a two-page spread, hordes of men and women wearing hats and overcoats wait on a subway platform, everyone in shadows, with a pale Elliot on the bottom, protecting himself, "careful not to be stepped on." Perhaps the most bittersweet moment in the book is an illustration of Elliot, defeated, walking against pedestrian traffic on a sidewalk. A smiling little blond girl turns to him, but he is not aware. Returning from the bakery emptyhanded, "Elliot was so sad that he barely noticed a thing," Curato writes; yet the elephant nevertheless catches sight of something smaller than he is trying to climb up a garbage can - a white mouse, desperately searching for food. With his trunk, Elliot lifts him to the top of the garbage can, where his new friend nibbles on a slice of pizza. Soon the two are back at the bakery, with the mouse, riding on Elliot's trunk, reaching to give the attendant a dollar bill. Elliot finally gets his cupcake, "and something even better." The final pages show a darkened building with the Manhattan Bridge in the background and, in one of the two yellow-lit windows, Elliot and the mouse sitting at the kitchen table sharing the cupcake. Two other unlikely friends come together in "Hug Me," by the Italian author Simona Ciraolo. She uses whimsical, jagged colored-pencil drawings to portray Felipe, a young cactus who just wants someone to wrap his arms around But, coming from "an old and famous" family of cacti, he knows they're the last people he can expect affection from. Ciraolo uses ample white space to set in relief the prickliness of the cactus family, and to signal the impending tragedy when Felipe meets someone he hopes will be his first friend - someone who "was bold, confident, ... and he was trouble." In short: a big yellow balloon. You can imagine what happens. Ciraolo is playful in a very Italian way as she shows how Felipe's mishap disgraces his relatives. Even the newspaper headline - written in red - declares his shame: "CACTUS ATTACK." Felipe moves away from his family, trying unsuccessfully to befriend squirrels and dogs and building his own house, fenced in from the world. When he hears weeping in the distance, Felipe knows what he needs to do: "Someone else was feeling lonely too." He searches out the crying voice and comes upon a rock named Camilla. Who says a rock feels no pain? And here Felipe envelops the rock with his prickly arms. (Your child, as did mine, will immediately understand that the rock is the only thing that can't be hurt by the spines.) Some friends simply want to help others who they feel have been left out. In "A Good Home for Max," Tabi, a mouse who wears a blue cap, takes care of a little store after hours. Every day a toy goes home with an owner - all except Max, a sweet dog with a sour face. Trying to make the frowning Max appealing to some child, Tabi dresses him up in festive attire - an inner tube in summer, a party hat in winter. Nothing works, and "Max is always by his side." Finally Tabi dresses Max in a hat just like his own, though red. One evening, Max is gone. Tabi sneaks into a delivery truck that takes him through the little village, hoping to find him. When he returns to the shop, crestfallen, he looks out to see Max sitting in the window of the house across the street, smiling. Every night to come, we're told, "when Tabi is done straightening the shop, he visits Max across the street." Some young readers may not understand the message at first, and will wonder why Tabi is going through all this trouble to get rid of his best friend, but parents will register the emotional push-pull of Tabi's conflict. Junzo Terada, a Japanese artist known for his postcards and mobiles, uses rich patterns of cheerful colors for his wood-block-style illustrations, and his sophisticated artwork, as well, maybe appreciated even more by parents than children. As the two-time Caldecott Medal winner Chris Van Allsburg's newest book suggests, some lonely creatures just need to strike out on their own. In "The Misadventures of Sweetie Pie," the title character is a squirmy hamster, who is pawned off from one unsuitable child to another. Each time his cage passes into the hands of another owner, he catches a glimpse of fresh air, and of freedom. While Van Allsburg's pen-and-ink drawings don't have the shadowing and dusky tones of some of his previous books, the story is itself a dark one. Using bright, pastel colors, he utilizes his familiar close croppings and dramatic angles to depict, say, a dog's mouth latching on to the cage, or a girl with a downright evil look on her face who puts Sweetie Pie in a dress, then into a hamster ball, and then - devastating - forgets about him outside. Yet it's not the only time a child abandons him. In the final instance, a boy puts the cage down to play a game of catch, but leaves him there overnight in falling snow. When the boy uncovers the cage the next day, Sweetie Pie is gone. In a final spread, we see the boy in springtime, still upset, looking around for the lost hamster; but up above Sweetie Pie frolics in a tree hollow with squirrels who have befriended him. The last image is somewhat primordial, with Sweetie Pie standing at the tree hole looking down, almost as if from a "Planet of the Apes" movie. Up until the ending, it's all pretty disturbing; after all, conventional wisdom says, what fluffy animal doesn't need a child to care for it? But then, sometimes misfits - and the neglected - rebel, escape and create their own, better, world. MARK ROTELLA, senior editor at Publishers Weekly, is the author of "Stolen Figs: And Other Adventures in Calabria" and "Amore: The Story of Italian American Song."
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [November 2, 2014]
Review by Booklist Review
Sweetie Pie is the last hamster chosen at the pet store, but he remains cautiously optimistic about what lies ahead after a little girl takes him home. What he doesn't know yet is that Pigtails is the first of a series of unreliable children who will be his caretaker. Each child loses interest in succession, distracted by a new computer or a bigger dog, trading Sweetie Pie from one house to the next until, at last, he is left out in his cage in a blizzard, forgotten. He manages to escape, though, and finds happiness with an adopted family of squirrels, as the children turn their (temporary) attentions to a new class guinea pig. Van Allsburg's gentle shading and soft palette are at odds with the story's raw undercurrent; the narrative's direct, incidental prose offers a harsh indictment of the children's behavior, even as the fine character work, especially for Sweetie Pie himself, adds nuance and tenderness. Older children will awaken to the responsibilities of pet care and the deeper values of empathy and affection.--Barthelmess, Thom Copyright 2014 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Thinking of getting a hamster? Read this first. Caldecott Medalist Van Allsburg chronicles the bleak existence of Sweetie Pie, neglected by one child after another. The hamster's first owner prefers screen time and sells Sweetie Pie to a boy with a hostile dog-readers receive a close-up, rodent's-eye view of the dog's slavering jaws. Next comes Cousin Sue, a girl with malicious eyes, who forces her pet into a clear plastic ball and rolls him down a hill ("Exhausted, Sweetie Pie waited for the girl to rescue him, but she never came"). Eventually, the hamster does time as a school pet. At the holidays, a boy promises "to take care of him," only to forget him on a playground as snow begins to fall; Sweetie Pie sinks "into a deep and frigid sleep." Van Allsburg does not play for laughs or pull his punches: when a teacher suggests that a kind child must have saved the icy hamster, "The children knew better." Sweetie Pie's grim and all-too-realistic experience raises ethical dilemmas, and a squirrel-ex-machina conclusion offers a happy ending, but little comfort. Ages 4-8. (Nov.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
PreS-Gr 2-Master storyteller Van Allsburg's latest children's book is about a frustrated hamster. He is bought by a girl and given the name Sweetie Pie, but she quickly grows tired of him and tries to sell him. As Sweetie Pie is passed from child to child, he yearns for the freedom of nature and a life uncaged. But his caretakers are unfortunately negligent; he's overfed, frightened by a large dog, abused inside an exercise ball, and finally forgotten in the snow. Children looking for a cute story about a misunderstood hamster will find this title bittersweet, in the vein of The Velveteen Rabbit. The story might serve as a cautionary tale for children who need lessons about how to treat their pets, but the more dismal scenes make it less than ideal for storytime. Van Allsburg's backgrounds and designs feel much more simplistic than previous works, and his normal sepia color scheme has been traded in for bright colors and limited shadow, keeping the book's tone as lighthearted as possible given its serious nature. Although a departure from his other masterpieces like Jumanji (1991) and Polar Express (1985, both Houghton Harcourt), Misadventures of Sweetie Pie is an additional purchase for most collections.- Peter Blenski, Greenfield Public Library, WI (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
Van Allsburg's latest has an uncharacteristically happy palette, with lots of sunny greens, and an unusually happy ending, too -- if very eventually. Upon finally being chosen to leave the pet shop with his very own young owner, hamster Sweetie Pie is ever hopeful of a better life, but instead finds himself passed along as this child and that find better things to do than care for and play with him. When Sweetie Pie finds himself abandoned in a schoolyard as it begins to snow, we're convinced it's curtains for the little guy, but the conclusion reveals a surprising new home and set of comrades. The pictures are light and expert but never seem quite connected to the prosy text, which is mostly an overlong catalog of woes, lacking a theme or sense of motivation. Spend some time with your pet instead. roger sutton (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 picture book about the difficult life of a pet hamster. Sweetie Pie is a hamster who, it seems, is doomed to be owned by a series of neglectful children. Originally bought from a pet store, Sweetie Pie is sold down the river, as it were, by a series of child owners who, when the hamster becomes no longer cute or a novelty, hand him off to someone else. Finally he ends up in a school classroom, tended by the children. But even then Sweetie Pie's troubles are not over. One of the children forgets him on the playground, and snow and darkness fall over the hamster trapped in his cage. Van Allsburg's illustrations, done in his trademark precise style, evoke a feeling of detachment that matches the oddly unempathetic text. When, the next morning, the careless child rushes to collect Sweetie Pie, all he finds is an empty, unlatched cage. He is contrite, but no one seems to care mucha guinea pig takes Sweetie Pie's place in the classroom soon enough. The good news is Sweetie Pie was rescued by squirrels and now has a great life with squirrel friends in a tree. The bad news is that Sweetie Pie's "happy ending" comes with no consequences for all the rotten children in his life and is wildly, even harmfully, unrealistic. Save this one for non-animal lovers. (Picture book. 5-8) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
