Review by New York Times Review
MY NANA NEVER explained to us why she'd chosen to go by a more culturally neutral shorthand for "grandmother" instead of the customary - and irresistible - Greek word "Yiayia." She was a proud Greek- American who worked as a receptionist until she was 84, listened to Nana Mouskouri records on the hi-fiin her living room, and rolled dolmades so perfectly uniform they belonged in an encyclopedia of domestic miracles. "Chryso mou," she used to say out loud when she took my sister's face in her hands, then my older brother's, and then mine; we were all her "golden one" ("dear one" is the less literal translation), but the fierceness and unselfishness of my Nana's love made each of us feel as if we'd been singled out. THE BROOKLYN-BASED illustrator and graphic designer Cecilia Ruiz captures the particular tenderness of grandmothers in A GIFT FROM ABUELA (Candlewick, 29 pp., $15.99; ages 4 to 8), her first book written expressly for young children. Ruiz's "The Book of Memory Gaps" (2015) and "The Book of Extraordinary Deaths" (2018) are dazzlingly Goreyesque in their cataloging of suggestive memory disorders and evocative deaths from the seventh century B.C. to the present. "A GiftFrom Abuela," with its block-printed illustrations in muted colors, is more modest in its storytelling and heartwarming in its message, though Ruiz still manages to capture complex social realities (the economic crisis in Mexico in the early 1990s, the alienation of older adults). The story itself is simple: Abuela saves her hard-earned pesos to buy a special present for her beloved granddaughter Niña, though when the government devalues the peso and she fails to exchange it, the money becomes worthless. To liftAbuela's spirits, Niña's solution is to cut the old bills into pieces for elaborate papel picado banners and use them to decorate the drab apartment, allowing Ruiz to create an art-project-within-a-picture-book story that had my own 2-year-old transfixed. An abuela's love is valued and returned in new and innovative forms. At the book's end, Niña and Abuela are spending a Sunday in the park, having pan dulce and watching the people go by: "It was still their favorite thing to do," Ruiz writes. THE GRANDMOTHER FIGURE in Oge Mora's debut as an author-illustrator, THANK YOU, OMU! (Little, Brown, 31 pp., $18.99; ages 4 to 8), is a life-giving force with a nearly bottomless stew pot. The story opens in a kitchen at "the corner of First Street and Long Street, on the very top floor" (the city is unnamed), where Omu, dressed in a yellow drape and gold drop earrings, is tasting the delicious stew that she plans on eating that night. Mora's illustrations use collage to give the book's world a sense of depth and vibrancy - the stew in the pot is represented by an ever-changing calico design - and the stream of cooking odors trailing out the apartment window gives the first hint of the book's folkloric plot. An author's note informs us that in the Nigerian language Igbo, "omu" means "queen," and that in Mora's family, the word also meant "Grandma." As Omu's cooking pot simmers on the stove, the delicious smell travels, and soon a succession of people are knocking at the door to get a taste: a boy from down the hall; a female police officer; a hot dog vendor; a cabdriver. Omu, thanks to the deliciousness of her stew, becomes a grandmother to the whole community. When her pot finally runs empty and it looks as if Omu won't have anything to eat that night, the community returns the love by feeding Omu with an impromptu potluck dinner. Mora is especially deftat using pastels and china markers to give the faces of her cutout figures roundness and expression; similarly, the street scenes are filled with cutouts (a lurching taxi, a flying bus, an energeticlooking soccer player) that will have toddlers reaching out to grab them. THE WRITER BETTY QUAN and the artist Carmen Mok strike a more somber note in GRANDMOTHER'S VISIT (Groundwood, 29 pp., $17.99; ages 4 to 8), their collaboration about the persistence of grandmothers - and the sense of absence that follows their loss. Told in the first-person, the book follows an unnamed girl through her days with her Chinese-born grandmother (it's never stated outright, but the girl's grandmother is her primary caregiver while her parents are offat work), learning how to get the proportions right when cooking a pot of rice, or listening to her stories about eating red lotus beans on holidays back in her village. Suddenly the girl's grandmother is no longer at her side after school, and the door to her bedroom is always closed. Her death is handled suggestively, and the book's color palette darkens as the story takes a beguiling turn in its last pages and veers into the territory of a traditional Chinese ghost story. Small children shouldn't be frightened, though - the spirit of this grandmother is much too loving and protective for that. LEST WE FORGET about grandfathers and their unearthly powers, the beloved children's author Tomie dePaola, best known for the classic witchy grandmother story "Strega Nona" (1975), has created the beautifully spare picture book QUIET (Simon & Schuster, 28 pp., $17.99; ages 4 to 8). This meditation on seeing and stillness teaches mindfulness to children - and the adults who read to them - in a nonpreachy way. Everything about the book is pared-down essentials, from the one-word title to the sparing use of text to the colorfully elemental illustrations. The book opens with a grandfather, looking very much the artist in a banded hat and long scarf, standing in a green field with his two grandchildren and a dog, watching the bees swarm a patch of flowers. A praying mantis climbs a lily stalk, and a mother fox lies curled with her young in a hidden den. "My, oh my," the grandfather says. "Everything is in such a hurry." The family moves through the landscape in the pages that follow, finally sitting down on a bench in order to notice, see deeper and describe. "The birds are just like us," the grandfather says at one point. "Taking a rest, singing their song." In its slowness and its serenity, "Quiet" is a prime example of the "late style" in dePaola's trajectory (think Shakespeare's "The Tempest" or Verdi's "Falstaff") and a corrective to the distraction that threatens to engulf us all. Leave it to a grandparent with an uncanny giftof sight to remind us how to stop, look and really see. But quietly.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [August 30, 2019]
Review by Booklist Review
From the day Niña is born, she and her grandmother have a special, loving relationship. Throughout Niña's childhood, she and Abuela sing, dance, laugh, go to the park, and create beautiful papel picado banners, a type of Mexican folk art. As Niña grows older, she wants to spend time with her friends, Abuela visibly ages, and external changes related to Mexico and its economy add stress. Soon, the country decides to replace its currency, and old bills must be exchanged for new ones. But because Abuela is becoming more forgetful, she does not exchange the currency she'd been saving, and by the time she and Niña find the stash of money, it's too late: the money is worthless. Rather than mourn the monetary loss, however, Niña suggests cutting the old bills into papel picado banners, and their time shared together is priceless, even though it doesn't cost a thing. Ruiz's mixed-media illustrations, which resemble block printing, nicely telegraph the shifting mood of the story, successfully conveying a complex topic in a genial way.--Lucinda Whitehurst Copyright 2019 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
This family story by Ruiz (The Book of Memory Gaps) unfolds in Mexico, where Abuela and Nina, grandmother and granddaughter, enjoy small pleasures like making papel picado (paper-cutout banners), and their very favorite activity: "Every Sunday, they would sit quietly in the park, eat pan dulce, and watch the people pass by." Abuela begins to save peso notes, planning to buy something special for Nina-but Nina grows up, Abuela grows older, and a newly issued currency renders the savings valueless. A surprise visit by Nina one day finds a new use for the devalued pesos and an affirmation of the joy the characters share. To accompany her tale, Ruiz creates folk-naif woodcut-style illustrations in muted shades of blue, gray, rust, and mustard, evoking old posters and faded peso notes. The story traces how time shifts family situations, and-a point not commonly taken up in picture books-the way people's economic circumstances can change in ways they can't plan for or control. But Ruiz's most important message is that love survives no matter what. Ages 4-8. Agent: Stephen Barr, Writers House. (Aug.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
PreS-Gr 1-Ever since Niña was born, she and Abuela have loved spending time together, making papel picado, and especially eating pan dulce in the park every Sunday. As Niña grows older, Abuela puts away the pesos she can in order to buy Niña a special gift. As time goes on, things change-not only between Abuela and Niña, but in all of Mexico as well. Niña spends more time with her friends, and when the currency in Mexico changes, Abuela's pesos are no longer worth anything, and she sometimes has difficulty gathering coins to set aside. When Niña visits Abuela, she finds the house dusty and lonely, and decides to clean it up and surprise Abuela. When she finds the pesos set aside, Abuela tells her about the special gift she had wanted to give her. Using the paper money, they decide to make beautiful papel picado together, and go back to their favorite way of spending Sundays: eating pan dulce in the park. Beautiful and soft pastel colored illustrations decorate every page and bring the papel picado and the homes and neighborhoods to life. Filled with lovely illustrations and the all-too-true message that "sometimes life just gets in the way," this story seems to be going in different directions, and ultimately ends abruptly and leaves readers yearning for a little bit more. VERDICT An additional purchase.-Selenia Paz, Harris County Public Library, Houston, TX © Copyright 2018. 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
Ruiz elevates a standard tale about the loving bond between a grandmother and granddaughter with historically significant and culturally relevant detail (the book is set in 1980s Mexico City). The beauty of Abuela and Nias quotidian life comes alive as they spend time together creating papel picado, making up silly songs, and eating pan dulce while people-watching at the park. Spacious symmetrical lines lend harmony to their daily activities. Ruizs mixed-media illustrations deftly incorporate culturally specific detailsthe iconic Popocatpetl and Iztacchuatl volcanos, green commuter vans (a.k.a. combis), piquant storefront signs distinctly characteristic of Mexican humorto capture the vibrancy of the citys aesthetic. Ruiz uses the devaluation of the peso to shift the mood and situate Abuela and Nias relationship alongside socioeconomic realities. Lively storefronts close, pan dulce jumps from ten to one hundred pesos. Other things change as well. Nia plays with her friends rather than Abuela; Abuela works double to make ends meet, and cobwebs and unwashed dishes crowd her once-tidy home. When new currency is introduced, Abuelas savings, faithfully tucked away over time, are now worthless. But Nia and Abuela restore their value by creating colorful papel picado from the old bills. Against fickle materialism and wealth, Ruiz demonstrates how family bonds and love remain steady and unbreakable, and are indeed our greatest gift. lettycia terrones (c) Copyright 2018. 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
Grandma and Nia dance, sing, laugh, and eat pan dulce in the park together. But one day the child forgets about her grandmother as school and friends take precedence. At the same time, the Mexican economy worsens, and suddenly the money Abuela has been saving for her granddaughter's special gift is worthless. Nia visits after a long absence only to find Abuela not home. Seeing the stack of dirty dishes, the layer of dust, and overflowing trash bin, the young girl cleans the house. Spotting a spiderweb-draped clay pot on the fridge, she opens it to discover useless old pesos. When Abuela returns, she and Nia embrace, make papel picado out of the old bills, and eat pan dulce in the park. Ruiz's simplistic story makes almost no sense from the beginning. No parents are ever in evidence, so many readers will assume that Abuela is Nia's sole guardian. Then, suddenly, the girl lives somewhere else and no longer comes aroundeven though she lives close enough to visit on her own. Abuela puts away a paltry 20 pesos each week, but the jar is miraculously filled with large bills (these are collaged into the illustration). When Abuela no longer has extra money to set aside, she forgets about the jar and fails to exchange the contents for the new official currency. The disarray in which Abuela leaves her house will strike many as hard to believe. Ruiz's muted multimedia prints are charming; the story is not. (Picture book. 4-7) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
