Rutabaga's Reads 2024: Part 5

The year is streaming on by, but here is the first picture books compilation of 2024. Better late than never, as the saying goes. It features three books I own and two library checkouts.

Baker and Taylor and the Mystery of the Library Cats (Oct. 4, 2022) by Candy Rodó.

Meet Baker. He’s serious, quiet and enjoys reading about history and faraway places. He reads to learn. Meet Taylor. He’s silly, outgoing and enjoys adventure stories. He reads for fun. Their cat friend, Flora, encourages them to visit other libraries, so they adventure to the main branch of the New York Public Library (NYPL). They arrive in Pennsylvania Station (over 650,000 people travel through Penn Station daily, making it the busiest transportation station in the Western Hemisphere), excited to meet two other library cats, but they can’t find them. With Baker’s trusty guidebook and Taylor’s keen sense of adventure, this book-loving feline duo are about to solve the mystery of NYPL’s Library Cats. They’ll take the subway, partake of a slice of NYC pizza and visit one of the city’s many bodegas.

            This first in a newly independent reader series contains thorough but simple digital illustrations complementing an unfussy adventure picture book featuring two bookish cats. It’s a light storyline that is uncomplicated and easy to follow. The pictures do not capture the constant movement and energy of NYC, but as that’s not the focal point of the story, that is a small thing. Still, I’ll admit that I found the factual tidbits and the factual back matter to be more engaging than the story itself. I picked up the book, not because I’m a cat-loving bibliophile (even though I am), but because I’ve visited the main branch of the New York Public Library!

            Note 1: For those who don’t know, Patience and Fortitude are the “library cats.” They’re actually lion statues. They’ve been guarding the main building of the NYPL since 1911.

            Note 2: The NYPL is the largest public library system in the country. It has 92 locations throughout the different neighborhoods in the city. The main branch is on 5th Avenue, between 42^nd and 40^th Streets. It was founded in 1895.

            Note 3: There are more than 10,000 bodegas (small grocery stores) in NYC. Many have a pet cat to keep mice away, but they greet customers, too.

            Note 4: Besides housing millions of books, the NYPL has also been home to the original toys of Christopher Robin, Winnie-the-Pooh and his friends, Eeyore, Tigger, Piglet, and Kanga since 1987.

Eyes that Speak to the Stars (Feb. 15, 2022) by Joanna Ho.

   Dung Ho, illustrator.

A Chinese American boy feels the hurtful sting of seeing his eyes represented as two slanted lines when all of his friends have big, round eyes. His Baba (dad) reassures him that “Your eyes rise to the skies and speak to the stars. The comets and constellations show you their secrets, and your eyes can foresee the future. Just like mine.” The boy’s eyes are like Agong’s (Grandpa’s) and Di-Di’s (younger brother’s). His eyes are “visionary.” “And they are powerful.”

            This story is as mesmerizing and lyrical as its predecessor. It is lovingly validating and the young boy is quickly and beautifully reassured with eyes in his family that look like his. For me, growing up adopted in a family of Caucasians, this would’ve been a tough one for me as a young child. The only eyes in my family to compare to were all big, round eyes. Fortunately, as an adult, I appreciate the necessity for stories like this, that celebrate family, diversity and the splendor in our differences. Dung Ho’s illustrations complement Joanna Ho’s writing to perfection and not only depict the story as it moves along, but includes icons recognizable in Chinese culture like dragons, a Chinese street market and Kongming (Chinese sky) lanterns. Heritage should be embraced no matter where someone’s landed in the world, and this book showcases that.

            Companion to: Eyes that Kiss in the Corners

Jan Brett’s The Nutcracker (Nov. 16, 2021) by Jan Brett.

It’s Christmas, and Uncle Drosselmeier has brought mysterious boxes. Marie is enthralled by the Nutcracker who she declares “looks like a real boy who has traveled from a place far away.” Her brother, Fritz, wanting to see how the Nutcracker works, breaks him, prompting Marie to check on the Nutcracker in the night. She feels magic and gets involved in a battle between invading mice and Fritz’s toy soldiers led by the Nutcracker. The Mouse King is vanquished, and Marie and her Nutcracker visit a wintry wonderland. Is it real? Or is it all a dream?

            In true Brett fashion, the story is filled with vignettes alongside the picture spread. Normally busy, I felt like it was too busy. It didn’t deter me from liking the story that follows the well-known arc from E.T.A. Hoffman’s famous story. The language is descriptive, and the illustrations are vivid and incredibly detailed. The story incorporates familiar moments from the ballet. However, animals are the cast in the second act. Dancing bears perform the Russian Trepak, and elegant foxes perform the Danse Arabe. Wildlife in the vignettes are dressed in winter wear playing flutes and other instruments. It is a feast for the eyes and a dreamland of wonder with an Old World feel. It is a Christmas confection.

There’s a Ghost in This House (Nov. 2, 2021) by Oliver Jeffers.

A young, unnamed girl lives in a supposedly haunted house, but has she seen a ghost? No. “Perhaps you could help me?” she asks. She’s heard that they “are white with holes for eyes” and adds that they’re very hard to see. She says she’s looked all over – in the library, in the attic, behind all the wardrobes, under the bed (TWICE!) and even up the chimney – but she’s still never spotted one. Will you help her find the ghosts?

The girl lives in an 18th-century mansion with long hallways, quiet rooms and plenty of dark corners, but far from being spooky, this picture book is charming. Does it have eerie vibes? Sure, but they’re unthreatening in this story that reads rather like a seek-and-find. The ghosts on the vellum papers are Casper-adorable and have playful senses of humor. It’s a lighthearted treat to read.

P.S. My nephew LOVED this story. He read it first with his grandma (my mom, to me), and when I read it with him, he remarked with glee when I pointed out two ghosts that he’d missed the first time he read the story! Hands down, it’s a 10/10. How can it not be, when it’s nephew-approved?

We Are Water Protectors (Mar. 17, 2020) by Carole Lindstrom.

   Michaela Goade, illustrator.

“Tears like waterfalls stream down.” A black snake threatens to destroy Earth and poison her people’s water, so one young water protector takes a stand to defend Earth’s most sacred resource. In Ojibwe culture, “women are the protectors of the water and men are the protectors of the fire.” Water is the first medicine, we come from water, and we all depend on water. The water protectors stand “With our songs / And our drums. / We are still here.” As long as water protectors exist, the black snake is in for a long fight. We are all related. TAKE COURAGE! WE STAND!

            Anishinaabe/Métis author Lindstrom and Tlingit descent illustrator Goade are a powerhouse team whose story isn’t only telling the readers to be observant. It’s a call to courageous action to care for our planet home, Earth. We stand not only for ourselves and our loved ones, but for all the creatures of the land, sea and sky who don’t have voices. It’s a passionate picture book with subtly bold, gorgeous illustrations. It’s inspiring and empowering. It’s educational without the weight of a class lecture, but the call to environmental stewardship is nonetheless impactful.

Rutabaga's Reads 2022: Part 21

Picture books need to be engaging to capture the attention of their young audiences, but they also need to engage those reading to/with them. This third picture book compilation of 2022 showcases one favorite author and four new-to-me authors. While they are all uniquely wonderful stories, what they have in common is that they are engaging in their prose and illustrations.

Cozy (Oct. 20, 2020) by Jan Brett.

Animals seek refuge from the winter cold, but instead of a cramped hideout, their refuge is a living creature, a young musk ox called Cozy. A family of lemmings, a snowshoe hare, a snowy owl, an arctic fox, a wolverine and a team of huskies with their sea otter musher join Cozy for winter in the Alaskan tundra. He got separated from his family, so is happy for the company. There are; however, house rules: “Quiet voices, gentle thumping, claws to yourself, no biting, no pouncing, and be mindful of others!” But when does a nibble become a bite? What constitutes a hoot that’s quiet or loud? When spring returns, Cozy is gleeful to find his herd, and his winter lodgers move onto their summer homes, but they promise to meet up again “when the snow flies.”

            The Alaskan tundra is no picnic, but Brett’s signature writing and clever illustrating create an idyllic story of sharing, friendship and living in harmony. Sure, it’s fanciful, but it’s a gently-moving tale that is comforting to read. Brett’s illustrations include those trusty side-panel vignettes that give readers hints as to what’s to come. She writes with a keen sense of her audience – the young and the young-at-heart – and illustrates with the finesse of an expert who’s comfortable in her skill and talent. This is another gorgeous tale, one that represents the importance of community, and it has a sequel, released November 2022.

            Oomingmak: Inupiaq word for musk ox, which translates to “the bearded one.” (Source: https://www.alaskazoo.org/muskox)

Danbi Leads the School Parade (July 7, 2020) by Anna Kim.

New to school is Danbi. Being the new kid is always hard, but it’s made more challenging for Danbi, as she doesn’t know English. She has recently emigrated from South Korea. She tries to engage with her classmates in participating in activities new to her, but she is unsuccessful. One thing she knows how to confidently do is pull out her lunch to eat! Her mom has packed her favorites – “Yams in honey, crystal dumplings, sweet-and-sour mini skewers, rainbow drops, and half-moon rice cakes dipped in sweet sesame!” – and her classmates are in awe. She tries to teach them to use chopsticks, which erupts into a cacophony-of-fun, musical parade.

            This is a wonderful story from Kim, who was once that little girl in a new classroom who didn’t yet understand English. Kim’s illustrations are multihued, but soft, and her text paints the story of a young girl who’s resilient and tries not to get discouraged even when no one plays with her. It’s a sweet, expressive story for any child starting at a new school or experiencing big, possibly overwhelming, changes. And it’s an enchanting, gentle and joyous story for all readers looking for something new to read.

            As an adoptee, I was never that child in a new school who didn’t understand English (and, in fact, remained in the same school district from Preschool all through my senior year of high school), but I knew what it was to stand out based on appearance, even though I also felt like my class was one of the more diverse in the rural community I grew up in. I would’ve wanted Danbi as a friend. Yes, because I would’ve seen myself in her with our similar physical, Korean features. But also because I was always taught to be a compassionate human being. I would’ve seen her needing a friend and so would’ve become one!

            Fun fact: According to the author, Danbi means “sweet rain.”

Eyes that Kiss in the Corners (Jan. 5, 2021) by Joanna Ho.

   Dung Ho, illustrator.

The Chinese-American girl in this story notices that her eyes are different from her peers. They have “eyes like sapphire lagoons” and “lashes like lace trim on ballgowns.” Her eyes “kiss in the corners and glow like warm tea.” They are eyes reflected in the face of her Mama’s, Amah’s (her grandmother) and Mei-Mei’s (her little sister). While her eyes are unlike those around her, that is winsome, for they are her eyes, and they are beautiful!

            While not in rhyme, this story is lyrical and reads with the expectation that it should be danced to with graceful movement. It is a story that exudes self-acceptance, a love of one’s ancestral roots and, in this character’s case, Chinese culture. Each of Dung Ho’s colorful and elegant illustrations are breathtaking landscapes that are exemplary complements to Joanna Ho’s prose. I love this story. It’s one I would’ve welcomed as a child. While I am well-loved by my family, I am an adoptee, and my family is entirely Caucasian. There was no one else in my family with “eyes that kiss in the corners,” and sometimes that was tough growing up. This story is poignant, but also strengthening, especially for anyone whose eyes “crinkle into crescent moons and sparkle like the stars.” Love your eyes, but most importantly, love your whole self!

Mommy’s Hometown (Apr. 12, 2022) by Hope Lim.

   Jaime Kim, illustrator.

A young boy is excited to visit his mommy’s hometown in Korea. It’s an area where the “mountains nearby stood like giants” and the “sky was filled with billowing clouds she [Mommy] could watch forever.” But when they arrive, the hometown isn’t what the boy expects. The small village has grown into a big city, new replaces the old, except for an old house on the corner that looks out of place surrounded by shiny new buildings. Fortunately, the river is the same. “Some things change, and some things stay the same.”

            Reading this sweet story that compares and contrasts past and present (rural and urban) with warm, digital illustrations tangibly feels tranquil and safe. The illustrations are lush and detailed; I especially enjoyed the spread of city buildings with shop names in Korean. The prose is gentle, yet full of imagination. The story caught my eye at the library, as it was up on display, one of many diverse books donated by the local Rotary Club. As soon as I saw the cover, I knew it featured Korean characters, and I checked the book out right away. So certainly, this story resonates with me because I share similar features to the Korean characters, but it’s a wonderful, intergenerational story for anyone. It shows readers of all ages that change can be bittersweet, but splendor and optimism arises, too, if one is open to finding it.

Wishes (May 4, 2021) by Mủợn Thị Văn.

   Victo Ngai, illustrator.

If you had to leave everything behind, what would you wish for? In the middle of the night in which the “night wished it was quieter,” a Vietnamese family leaves behind all they’ve ever known. They embark on a perilous journey with a destination in mind, but with knowing how so many things can go wrong between here and there. It’s observed through the eyes of a young girl who is traveling forward until “I didn’t have to wish … anymore.”

            Right away, I am struck by the simple beauty of the story. The prose is scant, but what’s there weaves a timeless tale of fear, hope, determination and resilience and is complemented by the artist’s detailed but soft illustrations. The author and illustrator are well-matched to this story, as the lyrical text and nuanced art are a lovely collaboration. This story is drawn from the author’s personal history, and reading her author’s note had me tearing up. It’s an experience to read, one that is both heartfelt and heart-wrenching. It’s emotional and elegant. The words are few, yet they speak volumes. I purchased the book, and I’m glad to own it. It should be in all libraries (and I’m happy to say that I know my local library has it).

            Personal story: For those that know me, they will know that I’ve never been a refugee. In a previous job, I sometimes worked with Karen-speaking patients. One time, through an interpreter, a patient inquired about my origin. I am always open to sharing that I’m Korean; I was born there, but adopted as a baby and have grown up in the U.S. This patient was a refugee, and sadly, our setting wasn’t one conducive to having a long conversation. She was intrigued by my happy demeanor, but especially, my flawless English. She had the interpreter tell me, “You’re a lucky one.” And you know what? I absolutely agree!