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WHEN THE MOON COMES Written by Paul Harbridge, illustrated by Matt James Tundra, 40 pages, $21.99, ages 4-8
A cold snap comes, the ducks fly south and a group of friends wait for the full moon. “Tonight’s the night,” they pass the word.
Darkness blooms from twilight into bitter cold and starry blackness, and one by one the kids make their way to the perfect ice of the beaver pond in the forest. They clear the snow, the moon rises — and they play hockey in a silver wilderness, ecstatic in play and the remote beauty of the night.
James’ art turns this tale into a place of intense darkness, blue shadows and the fine, frosty lines of skates on sleek ice. Of scrawny kids, shapeless winter wear and a still northern night that’s a world unto itself.
Its visual depth beautifully balances Harbridge’s sensual language — the hot breath of shouts and the chill of sweat icing hair and ears, the stiff feel of wet pants now frozen solid. A work of art and poetic prose.
LEAP! Written by JonArno Lawson, illustrated by Josée Bisaillon Kids Can Press, 32 pages, $18.99, ages 3-7
For those who’d rather resist the call of the winter night, poet Lawson offers a spring and springing tale — a series of leaps from page to page. A flea twitches into the path of a grasshopper, grasshopper onto bunny, bunny to sniffing distance of a dog and, “bouncing, bounding, springing and lunging! Down the bank that dog goes plunging. Gambol, lurch to — LEAP!” into the field of a horse, and on.
Energy and motion abound in Lawson’s twitching and bouncing rhymes and rhythms, and Bisaillon’s illustrations pick up on its springlike tone and movements. Vivid yellowy greens, shifting perspectives and the damp effect of spreading watercolour all convey sunshine, growth and youthful vigour.
A nicely tricky and satisfying read-aloud.
THE SECRET OF NIGHTINGALE WOOD By Lucy Strange Scholastic, 293 pages, $22.99, ages 9-13
A lose-yourself-in-it mystery/adventure story with something of an old-fashioned feel. It’s 1919, and Henrietta and family have just moved to a country house where they hope to recover from the tragic death of Hen’s brother.
But Papa must rush off to Europe on business, and Mama’s virtually locked in her room by a sinister doctor who wants to commit her to an asylum. Even the nanny doesn’t seem able to keep Mama or Hen’s baby sister from his clutches.
Then Hen meets a ragged woman who lives in nearby Nightingale Wood. Is she a witch? Or might she be the one person who really understands Mama’s grieving?
A story that’s poetic and sensitive (with the help of allusions to Keats’ poetry), and at the same time, suspenseful and surprising. Realism and fairy tale seem to come together as Hen puts her stalwart courage and intelligence to work, contesting the “man of the house” idea of authority with her own gentle strength.
THE BOOK OF DUST: VOLUME I, LA BELLE SAUVAGE By Philip Pullman Knopf, 451 pages, $29.99, ages 10 and up
Welcome back to the world of Dust and daemons or, for those who have not yet imbibed the trilogy His Dark Materials, welcome to that world — several years before His Dark Materials begins. For the former, La Belle
Sauvage will be a prequel (an “equel,” Pullman has corrected); for the latter, this will be an all-absorbing, compulsively readable yarn, the story of a canoe and a boy who sets out to rescue a baby.
Malcolm works at his parents’ pub, just upriver from Oxford. Strangers and neighbours drop in and out, and as Malcolm eavesdrops and observes, he hears repeatedly of baby Lyra, an infant in the care of nuns who live across the river from the pub. Why is everyone interested in her? Even, perhaps, in stealing her?
When the river floods and the baby’s life is in danger, Malcolm knows he must save her. He whisks her away in his trusty canoe, La Belle Sauvage, and so begins a fraught and watery voyage.
Pullman’s narrative magic is robustly at work here, although the magic of Dust, alethiometers and interworld travel has barely begun. It’s Malcolm’s character — sturdily courageous, canny and tender — that provides the strong heart of this irresistible story. That, and Pullman’s prose: forceful and direct, yet touched with warmth. Highly recommended.