It’s cheesy.  The characters have kid bodies and giant baseballs for heads.  They’re each named after a different kind of ball (Sammy Softball, Connie Curveball, etc.), and each character’s personality traits/powers resemble the term they’re named after (e.g. the Foul Ball gang are the bullies).  The kids who are old enough to know enough about baseball to appreciate the sport references are going to think the illustrations are babyish and the story rather lame, and the kids young enough to enjoy the illustrations and the predictable plot are not going to get the baseball terms.

A short simple story, with only a sentence or so per page, it’s definitely intended for the youngest audiences.  While everyone else is busy with things to do around the yard, a young boy goes off to play pirate with his stuffed raccoon, including snitching his sister’s stuffed bunny, who ends up in the lake.  After returning the sopping bunny and facing the music, the bunny goes missing again, for which the boy gets blamed.  Over the course of the afternoon and evening the boy’s toys also go missing, and if the reader is watching the illustrations, they see that a real raccoon is the culpret, which the boy discovers in the morning, declaring the sneaky raccoon to be a real troublemaker.  Very young readers will enjoy knowing that they know things the characters don’t.

A gold emblem on the cover proclaims, “Celebrating 25 years of Katie!”  It’s published in Australia and set in London, so perhaps there are children in one or both of those countries who would know who Katie is, but unfortunately, there’s nothing in the book to give us any background on who Katie is or why we’re supposed to celebrate her.  The story opens with Katie and her grandmother visiting London’s National Gallery, and when Grandma needs to rest she sends Katie off to explore on her own. The plot consists of Katie ignoring the “Please do not touch” signs and jumping into one famous painting after another, snatching a piece of pie from one, sharing a cup of tea in another, playing with another child in another, playing with a tiger, and falling through an abstract before being rescued by the museum guard.  I’m sure it would make a great souvenir for children visiting this museum, and it might make a good introduction before a class were to take a field trip to a museum.  As a general interest read it’s okay, if perhaps a little flat.

I guess it’s okay.  It’s got a good message it’s trying to convey.  It just left me a little flat.  And the message (“magic must come from within”), though clearly stated in so many words, didn’t really come through the actual story itself, but seemed to be laid over top of the story:  if it hadn’t been deliberately pointed out, I don’t think that would have been the take-away of readers from the events alone.

The story is cute, and kids will enjoy feeling in the know, as they recognize the mistakes the dog is making throughout the story.  Max the dog is asked by the farmer to try to catch a thief who’s been stealing all the carrots, berries, beans and cherries.  After spotting a small blue bug nibbling a leaf, Max sets off to catch it, passing along the way a rabbit, a pig, a goat, and some crows amidst the carrots, berries, beans and cherries, asking each if they’ve seen the thief, never connecting them as possible culprets. After chasing the bug across the entire farm, Max returns to report proudly that he’s scared the thief away for good, and the other animals decide to throw a party to celebrate, gathering and eating the rest of the farm’s produce.  My one criticism has to do with the visuals.  I don’t think I’ve ever found fault with a book’s font before, but there’s something about this one that bothered me:  the color palate of the illustrations is a little on the dark side, and the print is not very big or bold, and sometimes seems to be a bit lost on the page.

A beautiful poem that unites humanity by celebrating all the things we have in common with others across the globe (e.g. ” We’ve work to do and loads to bring, and tales to tell and songs to sing.”)  The text uses the simple pronoun we, but the illustrations show examples of life from all different cultures around the world, showing just how big “we” can be.  I think it’s fabulous!

I’m a huge fan of Chris Van Allsburg, but I was a little bit disappointed with this one (not enough to turn me off Van Allsburg as a rule, but a enough to say there’s no rush to run out and get this one).  At first I didn’t even recognize Van Allsburg’s usually distinctive artwork style — this one is very pastel, lots of pink — turns out he’s got daughters.  The story tells of a rather grumpy hampster who experiences a series of homes: first purchased from the pet store by a girl who soon loses interest, before being sold to a boy whose dog proves to be a bit of a terror; then being handed over to a cousin who liked to dress him up in doll’s clothes and bought him an outdoors exercise ball in which he rolls away.  Found by a girl whose mom doesn’t allow pets, he gets taken to school where he is adopted as a class pet, until the kid responsible for taking care of him over the holiday vacation forgets him on the playground.  Escaping from his cage in some unknown manner, he finds freedom and his true home getting himself adopted into a nest of squirrels. The illustrations are fun, and exhibit Van Allsburg’s effective play with perspective, and all the scenarios are believable problems faced by hamsters, but one hamster facing them all seems a bit extreme, and worse, there’s nothing to really make the reader care about his problems.  It’s a little flat.

It’s a story within a story, with multiple levels of meaning.  The introductory story is of a young mouse who is frightened during a storm, having previously experienced a destructive hurricane; her papa calms her with a story, a nod to the power of books.  The story he shares, told in rhyme, tells of a violent storm that destroys all a rhino holds dear, and the rhino reacts by swallowing the storm, but as a result finds himself alone at the bottom of a very deep hole.  The rest of the story, which involves the other animals helping to rescue Rhino from the hole, coming together to starting putting their world to rights, and counseling Rhino to let go of the storm he’s holding inside, is both a literal and a figurative story, both about communities working together to assist each other after devestation does occur, and about the dangers of holding our emotions bottled up inside.  It’s a comforting story to help young children recognize that bad things do happen, but we’re never really left alone to cope with them.

The big-eyed, big-nosed, brightly colored, cartoonish illustrations will be familiar to students who are fans of Charlie Cook’s Favorite Book, A Gold Star for Zog, the Gruffalo, or any of Scheffler’s other work.  The story, told in rhyme, describes two scarecrows who fall in love and decide to marry.  After wandering the farm to find the things they need for their wedding, Betty stays behind while Harry sets off to find the last thing on their list, pink flowers, and water to keep them fresh.  The search takes Harry longer than he expected, and while he’s gone the farmer builds a new scarecrow to take his place, who goes by the name of Reginald Rake.  Needless to say, Rake proves to be an arrogant cad, who nearly sets Betty on fire when he drops his cigar, but Harry returns just in time with his bucket of water and flowers, which he dumps on the flames to save Betty’s life.  It’s cute.

I am disappointed in Kids Can Press.  I usually like their stuff, but I can’t figure out the  purpose of this book.  It’s a Halloween book, with cute illustrations that will attract children, but story is nothing but gobblety-gook.  I’m a fan of the classic nonsense poem, The Jabberwocky, and Dr. Seuss of course created wonderful books full of made-up words, but this just doesn’t hold together.  It doesn’t even have good rhythm to read aloud smoothly, let alone create any meaning.  Ugh!

For kids who live in or near Sydney, Australia, or as a souvenir for a child visiting the city, I would recommend this book:  it’s told in rhyme, and the illustrations are kinda cool, mixed-media creations that support the text.  But for American school libraries, I don’t think it contains enough information to either be useful or garner much interest. The best I could think would be as a supplementary introduction tool before starting a unit on Australia, to have students gather unfamiliar terms/places that they would maybe be learning about in the coming unit.

I like the illustrations.  They’re kind of soft pastel colors, and there’s something rather friendly about them.  The story is okay, too: Leo is a postal carrier (who looks like he might be a weasel or something)who longs to receive a letter himself; when he finds a baby bird who seems to have lost his flock, Leo takes him in for the winter, and after the little bird grows big enough to fly off in the spring, he sends Leo a letter.  It’s not bad.  I just couldn’t quite say I got excited about it enough to give it an actual recommendation.

I do like this book. And I do think it’s a good book to have in any library.  I think it does a good job of handling some sensitive material with compassion.  But I would recommend some degree of caution in choosing the audience you share it with.  It begins with Sophie and Maddi playing together in the park, when hunger sends Sophie running to Maddi’s apartment for a snack, despite Maddi’s protests.  Upon opening Maddi’s fridge to see what she’s got, Sophie finds only some milk, which Maddi says needs to be saved for her baby brother.  After being sworn to secrecy, Sophie goes home to her own full fridge and her mother fixing a healthy fish dinner, which her little brother complains about.  Sophie decides to save some to take to her friend the next day, only to realize that though fish may be good for kids, it’s not good for backpacks.  The next day she discovers eggs don’t keep well in backpacks either. She eventually finds some food she is able to share with her friend without spoilage, but decides she can’t really help her friend alone, so decides to tell her mom, despite her promise.  Throughout the story, as Sophie is looking for ways to help Maddi with food, Maddi is also helping Sophie with her climbing, which helps to keep a sense of balance, with both friends having something to offer the other.  Still, knowing that 93% of my students qualify for free lunch, I hesitate to think how they might feel if they identify too strongly with Maddi.  On the other hand, in my old school with a solidly middle-class population, this would be a great tool for helping students to recognize that not all families have as much as theirs’ might.

Targeting the very youngest readers, the text is a simple list, written in first person, of “things I like about me,”  specifically things I can do, finishing with, “the think I like best about me is that I can be with you.”  There is a repetitive pattern to the text which offers a sentence frame for young writers to imitate, and the illustrations support the text for young readers.  Besides, it’s just plain really sweet, without being cotton candy.

The illustrations are gorgeous!  The setting is a small African village.  The problem is universal:  the smallest girl in the village getting picked on and teased by her peers.  The solution is found in the magic of imagination:  every night Imani’s mother tells her stories, and upon hearing the tale of the goddess of the moon, Imani dreams of touching the moon herself; she continues to endure the teasing of the other children as she persists with assorted failed attempt including climbing or flying to the moon.  After watching a celebration involving warriors in a traditional jumping dance, Imani jumps to the moon, meets the goddess, and receives a gift of a small glowing moon rock, and has her own story to tell.  The logical part of my brain that finds scientific fault with the way the story ends is charmed anyway by the beauty of the story.

A nearly-wordless book, this is an ABC book of noises (I won’t pretend I know how to spell oneomonopeia).  A=Ahoogah, B=Beep Boop, etc.  The illustrations show some fun, colorful, cute robots manipulating large metallic letters on a grassy field until the final page shows the whole gang gathered around the fully assemble alphabet.

It’s bright and colorful, and provides a good example of traditional aboriginal artwork as well as an introduction to 26 critters indigenous to Australia.  It’s an ABC book in which Anteater is anxious to share something amazing with Bilby or Chuditch or Dingo, etc. But every critter it approaches is too busy doing something else, until after Zebra Finch is too busy snoring, and the illustrations show us that Anteater is enjoying a book; upon noticing what a good time Anteater is having, all the other animals decide they’re not too busy after all.  The illustrations are fun, and it could be used as an introduction if a class was about to start researching Australian animals, but really the text is a bit repetitive and less than stellar.

An illustrated poem that lists several different types of birds and puts words together to sound like their calls, but keeps coming back to the refrain, “But have you heard the nesting bird?”  It concludes with the hatching of the baby robins.  At the back of the book, and endnote answers a series of questions as if the bird were being interviewed about its nesting habits. The illustrations are all in earth tones, which might not hold immediate appeal for young readers, but they really are quite beautiful.  A good introduction for young scientists to observe the birds in their yards, looking for words to describe what they hear.

Every library should have The Little Engine that Could.  It’s a classic tale with a timeless message that every child needs to have access to.  This particular edition is a board book and “an abridged edition.”  I’m not usually a fan of abridgements, but if it hadn’t declared itself so on the cover, I wouldn’t have noticed, as it did a good job of keeping all the pertinent meat of the original tale.  And though I don’t usually select board books for my shelves, I do recommend having a basket or two on hand for use with the special needs classes who come, so the kids can enjoy the books without destroying the general collection.

It’s a celebration of imagination, and the scope for it that a small boy finds playing outside on a snowy day.  While big brother sits inside, watching TV and playing on the computer, little brother heads outside to play in the snow.  The illustrations share with the reader the wonder of the boy’s imaginings as we see a snow-covered tree take the shape of a friendly snow-monster, the snow-monster he makes come to life and play with him in his snow castle, until he flies home on the dragon of the sunset, only to find his brother finally ready to come play with him in the snowy dusk.

It’s not bad.  It’s got rhythm and rhyme, and the illustrations are bright and play with perspective a bit.  But I can’t figure out why it got the “Moonbeam” award sticker on its cover.  It can’t claim to have much of a plot. It basically does exactly what the title says, capturing a moment with a family of four sitting on their front porch, with one brother listening to his tunes, one brother drinking a soda, dad snoozing, and mom taking a picture of the moment.  There’s just not much to indicate why we’re supposed to care about this particular family or this particular moment.

An everyday story that reminds us all to be grateful for the things we do have, rather than counting the things we wish for.  It begins as CJ leaves church with his grandmother and waits in the rain to catch a bus.  Throughout their journey, CJ is full of questions and complaints (Why do we have to wait in the rain? Why don’t we have a car? Why do we have to go here after church?), seeming determined to feel sorry for himself, but for each of his negatives, Grandma is able to point out a positive — the drinks the rain provides for the trees, the people they get to know on the bus, etc.  By the end of their journey, CJ is full of wonder at how his nana always fins beauty where he doesn’t think to look, and announces that he’s glad they came, and the illustrations show the readers that he and his helping serve meals to those less fortunate than themselves.

Another fabulous story from the author of Bats at the Library and Bats at the Beach, this one follows the bats as they wake from winter’s hibernation anxious to make a little noise.  Finding a window open at a deserted summer theater, the bats indulge in an evening of music-making.  Told in rhyming verse, with illustrations depicting some bats with actual miniature instruments while others play on improvised hand-made instruments, the story winds its way through the bats’ concert, describing an assortment of different types of instruments and different types of music along the way.  It celebrates music of all kinds.

An absolutely fabulous blend of poetry, science, and art, this book is both beautiful and informative.  Centered around a theme of nature’s adaptations for surviving the harsh conditions of winter, each two-page spread is dedicated to a different animal or plant, with a poem and a scientific blurb describing how that animal adapts.  The illustrations are beautiful and support the text while contributing to the mood of the poems.

For purposes of this review I examined the Farsi-English, Arabic-English, Russian-English, Turkish-English, Italian-English, and Portuguese-English volumes.  Each is designed with clean white pages and labeled photographs organized by category chapters: animals, human body, house, clothing & personal objects, etc.   The same photos are used in each volume, and each volume includes tables of contents, page headings, and indices in both languages, as well as the labels next to each photo being listed in both languages.  The English biases are revealed in that the index is alphabetized according to the English vocabulary; it would have been nice if a second index had been included where the vocabulary was alphabetized according to the other language.  It also would have been nice if a pronunciation guide had been offered for both languages, as only the spelling is included next to the pictures (although there is also a CD included with each volume).  They’re fun for curiosity’s sake, and could be useful in schools with a lot of foreign-languages spoken, as a way of getting some basic vocabulary across, but I’m not sure they are the most useful tools available.