> SMALL PRINT DEIRDRE BAKER
DU IZ TAK? Written and illustrated by Carson Ellis (Candlewick, 48 pages, $21.99, ages 4-7)
Bug talk? Yes, Ellis introduces young readers to the marvels of made-up insect language as two damselflies, a ladybug, some ants and woodlice (among others) co-operate to build a tree fort in a newly flourishing plant.
“Unk scrivadelly gladdenboot!” one exclaims in wonder, as a flower unfolds above the fort. Ellis’s bug talk is fun and expressive — full of potential for reading aloud and inventive interpretation. Even more impressive is the delicacy and elegance of the insect community she portrays: each species is identifiable, yet accessorized with spectacles, pipe or fancy head gear to show off its own natural beauty.
Here’s a bright, refined fantasy world to be lost in, and one that has its dark, seasonal drama to boot. Good for kids who like to imagine miniature worlds.
THE INCREDIBLE ADVENTURES OF MARY JANE MOSQUITO: A MUSICAL CABARET By Tomson Highway, illustrated by Sue Todd (Fifth House, 70 pages, $24.95, ages 10-15)
The middle of winter when mosquitoes don’t bug us may be the perfect time to contemplate the growth and peregrinations of Tomson Highway’s little mosquito girl, whose winglessness brings her mockery and general misfittery throughout her school career.
With panache and energy, Highway gives us her story in monologue in three different languages — Cree, French and, mostly, English. This is the script for a one-woman musical in one act; it’s odd, but nevertheless satisfying, to find here the musicality, wit and moral warmth of Highway’s lyrics — even without accompanying score and piano player.
Todd’s illustrations, in the style of woodcuts, jazz up the rhythms and emotional intensity of Mary Jane’s trials with an abundance of quivering black lines and flamboyant colour. This mosquito may not fly, but she sings with infectious vigour. Dedicated to “disabled children everywhere,” this is really a story about finding one’s voice.
THE TRAGIC TALE OF THE GREAT AUK, written and illustrated by Jan Thornhill (Groundwood, 42 pages, $18.95, ages 8-12)
For kids who like their natural history natural (no talking bugs here), this may well be the best choice of the season.
Thornhill tells the story of the Great Auk’s evolution and demise — partly a result of its anatomy and behaviour, but mostly because of the evolution of human technology and faddish desire. The rarity of the Great Auks’ safe nesting grounds; the increase of harvesting; the rapacious popularity of egg collecting in the Victorian era — Thornhill relates all this with a matter-of-fact elegance that makes the story both poignant and horrifying.
Equally, if not more dramatic and compelling are her illustrations, moving from vast colonies nesting near turbulent seas to the vision of a single, stuffed Great Auk, mounted in ghostly state in a Victorian museum of natural history — right next to a dodo and other now extinct creatures.
Thornhill uses perspective brilliantly here, emphasizing the wild grandeur of natural creatures one moment and their desperate vulnerability the next. This is a volume that draws the reader into its world — our world — in a way that’s both haunted and haunting. Highly recommended.
MONSTER SCIENCE: COULD MONSTERS SURVIVE (AND THRIVE!) IN THE REAL WORLD? Written by Helaine Becker, illustrated by Phil McAndrew (Kids Can, 96 pages, $19.95, ages 11-14)
This could be called “science for goofs”, or at least, for those who need a little goofiness to get them into science. Becker analyses some popular “monsters” through their physicality — Frankenstein’s monster, vampires, zombies and more. Could these creatures really exist?
Through a discussion of their seemingly fantastic features, she introduces readers to relevant fields of knowledge. For Frankenstein, that involves electricity, muscles, neurons, organ transplant and genetic engineering. For vampires, it involves blood, nutrition, blood-sucking creatures, HeLa cells and the Hayflick limit (related to “could a person really live forever?”).
There’s an abundance of physics, chemistry and biology here, as intriguing as the weirdness of life itself.
There’s also an abundance of exclamation marks, silly jokes and lame puns, more than matched by McAndrew’s always lively cartoons. Deirdre Baker teaches children’s literature at the University of Toronto.