Lulu’s back, not quite so rude, but just as ornery
Bratty, demanding Lulu strode onto the pages of children’s literature 2½ years ago when, at the hands of author Judith Viorst and illustrator Lane Smith, she set out to acquire a brontosaurus as a pet.
The results, documented in Lulu and the Brontosaurus, a chapter book for young readers, were not what Lulu had expected, but here she is again, determined to have her way in Lulu Walks the Dogs. True, she’s not as bad as she was in that first volume — she used to always be a pain, Viorst writes, but “now she is just a sometimes pain, and not nearly as rude as before.”
Still, when she tells her parents that she desperately, absolutely must have this super special thing that costs a lot of money, those parents stand their ground (apparently they’ve learned a few things, too) and tell her they can’t afford it. If she wants it that desperately, she’ll just have to earn the money herself. (We’re not told until the end of the book what this much-coveted super special thing is, but the parents are right: they can’t afford it.)
Lulu is nothing if not determined, and when her parents remind her that another child in the neighbourhood routinely earns money doing various jobs, the gauntlet is thrown. The child in question is Fleischman and Lulu loathes him. In fact, she wants to throw up when adults praise his kindness and his cleverness and urge other kids to be more like him. But she thinks it’s only fair to let him know that she will now be seeking employment herself, and that she’ll stay away from his jobs if he’ll stay away from hers. When Fleischman asks which those are, she admits she hasn’t actually chosen any yet, but will keep him informed. “But since the name of this story I’m telling is Lulu Walks the Dogs, you already know, of course,” Viorst tells the reader, in one of many asides.
What follows is a series of dogwalking dramas that resolve themselves only when Lulu admits that Fleischman has his good points, and that teamwork sometimes works out well for all parties concerned.
Viorst is no stranger to kids’ lit; she has been writing for decades, and is probably best known for Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Illustrator Smith, too, has more than a few titles to his credit, including The Stinky Cheese Man, written by Jon Scieszka. His distinctive art, and the stylish book design by Molly Leach, are a perfect complement to Viorst’s text which, every so often, brings to mind the writings of Lemony Snicket. Both authors have a way of directly addressing their readers, creating unlikely but hilarious situations, and giving us characters who don’t have the most finely honed social skills — but who nevertheless manage to endear themselves to the readers, and allow those readers to feel their own shortcomings are mild by comparison.