Make Way for Ducklings by Robert McCloskey

When the hustle and bustle of modern life gets to be too much, there's nothing better than curling up with a good bone to chew and a nice, feel-good book to read, and Robert McCloskey's Make Way for Ducklings is just that book. Set in 1940's Boston Public Garden, Mr. and Mrs. Mallard choose a quiet place on the Charles River to raise their family, then have to brave the dangers of the city (with the help of the local police) as Mrs. Mallard leads her children down a busy street to Boston Public Garden, where they live happily ever after. The April 1941 edition of Horn Book Magazine gave McCloskey's book a glowing review: "The Boston Public Garden has never appeared in more attractive guise than in this engaging book. The story of the family of ducks, raised on the Charles River and brought back to the pond in the Garden, through the traffic of city streets by its anxious mother is founded on fact as many Bostonians can testify. Robert McCloskey's unusual and stunning pictures will long be a delight for their fun as well as their spirit of peace" (Brodie 2006, 51).

 McCloskey's sepia illustrations earned him the Caldecott award in 1942, and there is no doubt why. Each illustration is a two-page spread, with minimal text on only one of the pages in almost every instance. This draws the eye to the illustrations, which are drawn to be realistic rather than cartoonish and are full of details. In fact, Robert McCloskey even brought real ducklings to his studio apartment to serve as models for his illustrations (Brodie 2006, 49)! The brevity of the text on each page helps set an appropriate pace for reading, keeping the pages turning so young readers stay entranced in the story.

One notable feature of McCloskey's illustration style is his varying perspectives. To help draw the reader into the story, much of the illustrations are drawn from the duck's perspective, sometimes with wide angle views as they fly high over the city, and sometimes with views from the ground accentuating just how huge the cars seemed to the ducks and their little ducklings. School Library Media Activities Monthly further praises his artistic angles: "McCloskey uses fluid lines and minimum shading to render key elements of the composition and keep us focused. The white of the page becomes a backdrop of sky, water, or land, and vantage points change from page to page as the artist positions the viewer far away, up close, in the air, and across the street" (Erbach 2006, 17).

While Robert McCloskey's choice of media was partially a function of the cost of color printing in the 1940's, his sepia illustrations also show respect for children's intellect. Children don't need loud, flashy colors and a constant assault on their senses in order for a book to hold their interest, as modern-day advertisers might lead us to believe. Children (and children-at-heart) appreciate the beauty in the monochrome illustrations, as demonstrated by Make Way for Duckling's continued ubiquity in libraries and homes across the country more than 75 years after its publishing.

While Mrs. Mallard is not portrayed as the stereotypical wallflower wife of the 1940's who simply does what she is told, the mother duck instead comes across as a picky wife who is never fully satisfied, with Mr. Mallard playing the role of the exasperated husband who must appease her. Neither option is a positive portrayal of a healthy marital relationship; however, this characterization is representative of the cultural views and values from the era in which the story was written. While this provides a great discussion point for older students, the perpetuation of gender stereotypes should be taken into consideration when choosing stories for young children, and exposing young people to a variety of different families and relationships in literature will help socialize them to our increasingly diverse world.

While McCloskey's story has been criticized for having plot holes (why did Mr. Mallard leave his family for a week without explanation? Why did the family leave their home on the Charles River?), this doesn't seem to deter young readers; perhaps because adults seem to make decisions for them all the time that don't make sense to the child, it doesn't faze them when the ducklings' parents also make decisions that aren't entirely logical.

To extend the learning experience after reading this book, children can visit the Boston Public Garden online through YouVisit's website (https://www.youvisit.com/tour/panoramas/bostonpublic/80813) - it even allows visitors to take a tour in virtual reality!  In addition to seeing the park where the story takes place, children can also see the statues of all eight ducklings and Mrs. Mallard up close.  Many other companion resources are available online, including activities that range from making duck puppets to watching actual ducklings hatch and grow. Another good companion story is Have You Seen my Duckling? by Nancy Tafuri, a Caldecott honor book which also features a family of ducks and has a similar theme of parental love and care for their children.

If you're looking for a tale that give you the warm and fuzzies (just like when I get a belly rub), Make Way for Ducklings fits the bill. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this story with my owner, and it gets two paws up from me!

Until next time, happy reading!

Charlie Brown, basset hound

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Bibliography

Brodie, Carolyn. 2006. "Robert McCloskey: Of Ducks, Blueberries, a Harmonica, and a Donut Machine." School Library Media Activities Monthly 22, no. 7: 49-52.

Erbach, Mary. 2006. "Classic Caldecotts by Decade." Book Links 15, no. 6: 16-20.

McCloskey, Robert. 1941. Make Way for Ducklings. New York: Viking Press. ISBN 0140564349

Wolf in the Snow by Matthew Cordell

When I saw we were reviewing a book about my (distant) cousin the wolf, I got so excited I started panting! I particularly enjoy stories about animals, and Matthew Cordell's Wolf in the Snow did not disappoint. A beautifully illustrated picture book about a little girl and a lone wolf pup who each get lost in a blizzard, Wolf in the Snow touches on the theme of the power of kindness when the wolves use their distinctive call to help the story's young heroine get back to her family after she risks her own safety to help the wolf cub find his way home.

Apart from a few huffs and puffs from the little girl, the wolves are the only characters with any written words in the book. However, Wolf in the Snow has no need for the written word: the illustrations tell a poignant tale all by themselves. School Library Journal raves, "No one reading this book would want there to be any text, though. I’ve read some wordless books that require additional explanation from the parental units reading them. This book is commendable for its clarity. Everything makes sense, even if the characters don’t always do what you think they would" (Bird 2017).

As a fellow creature of the canine persuasion, I had some doubts about the believability of the story: would the wolves really know to howl to draw in the adults searching for the little girl? Would the little girl really be safe bringing a wolf cub back to its pack? Probably not. However, these plot points are important to the story, helping the wolf characters seem relatable while also putting them in a positive light. Cordell mentions the Yellowstone Wolf Project in the acknowledgments, so it's likely he was very intentional about the positive portrayal of the wolves in his story. Historically, humans have feared and killed wolves, and much of children's literature paints them as scary, dangerous, sneaky animals that are not to be trusted - the most famous of which is the Big, Bad Wolf of fairy tale fame. Cordell's book helps right that wrong, characterizing the wolves as kind, and subtly showing children that wolves and humans can live together peaceably. Maggie Reagan shares this sentiment in her review for Booklist: "[The wolves are] realistically depicted wild animals who inherently understand loyalty. Expect this wintry tale to bring only warmth" (Reagan 2016).

Wolf in the Snow won the 2017 Caldecott Award, and it is clear why: Cordell's use of watercolor and ink creates a striking contrast between gently blended colors and sharp, clear lines. He also uses different amounts of detail to emphasize certain parts of the story. While the humans are drawn almost like cartoons, with roughly triangular shapes and the type of facial features one would expect from an emoji, the wolves are drawn in great detail, down to the individual hairs on their muzzles. This stark contrast surprises the reader and draws the eye to the animal. I found myself appreciating the wild beauty of the wolves as my eyes drank in each detail.

One feature that sets this story apart from its contemporaries is that Cordell chose to include three pages of illustrations before the title page. The author/illustrator uses these few pages to set the scene, introducing us to all of the characters, both human and lupine. If the reader looks closely, you can tell it is just starting to snow on the first spread, but as the pages turn, the snow begins to accumulate, providing subtle foreshadowing of the storm to come.

Cordell uses empty space brilliantly in the pages of the story. While most of the pages are two-page spreads of full color scenery, there are a few times within the story that Cordell fills the page with white space and only illustrates within a circle in the center of the page. It reminded me of peering through binoculars. Isolating the action to one small area of the page adds to the feeling of isolation when the young girl and wolf pup are each lost. While their images within the circles are only inches apart on the page, they might as well be miles apart, as the empty space on the page illustrates how each character is feeling very alone.

One interesting way to help your pups enjoy this story is to pair it with a traditional Little Red Riding Hood fairy tale, then looking for similarities and differences. Lon Po Po, also a Caldecott award winner, is a version of Little Red Riding Hood that hails from China. Another good story pairing might be Jean Craighead George's picture book Nutick, the Wolf Pup, which has many parallels to Wolf in the Snow, as a young Native American boy finds a lost wolf cub and nurses it back to health until it returns to its pack.

Reading aloud Wolf in the Snow also provides a great opportunity to practice prediction. Starting with the cover, have children predict what they think the story will be about. What in the illustration informs their guesses? You can record their predictions to refer back to at the end of the story. Pause again before each major plot point is revealed and ask students to predict what will happen next (it might be best not to stop and record these, as it would interrupt the momentum of the story.) Look at the wolf illustrations, especially the one detailed silhouette early in the story: does the wolf look nice or mean? Why do you think that? As you finish the story, ask if their predictions were correct, returning to important illustrations in the book to support their ideas.

Wolf in the Snow is a beautiful example of the power of illustrations to tell a story, and I know my pack at home will be reading this one repeatedly. Matthew Cordell's artful storytelling and meaningful illustrations get two paws up from me!

Until next time, happy reading!

Wags and woofs,

Charlie Brown, basset hound

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Bibliography

Bird, Elizabeth. 2017. "Review of the Day: Wolf in the Snow by Matthew Cordell." A Fuse #8 Production (blog), School Library Journal, March 24, 2017, http://blogs.slj.com/afuse8production/2017/03/24/review-of-the-day-wolf-in-the-snow-by-matthew-cordell/.

Cordell, Matthew. 2017. Wolf in the Snow. New York: Feiwel and Friends. ISBN 9781250076366

Reagan, Maggie. 2016. "Wolf in the Snow." Review of Wolf in the Snow, by Matthew Cordell. Booklist 113, no. 8: 60.

Leonardo the Terrible Monster by Mo Willems

This week, I had the pleasure of helping my owner read Mo Willems' picture book Leonardo the Terrible Monster. When I first heard the title, I was worried the story might be about my biggest fear - the vacuum cleaner! But no, this story is about a different kind of monster - a small, furry one named Leonardo who felt sad because he couldn't scare anyone. He devised a plan to find the wimpiest child he could, but when he tried to scare him, instead of being frightened, the little boy started to cry, pouring out his loneliness and frustrations to the monster. Leonardo, overcome with compassion, decided it was better to be a good friend than a terrible monster and befriended the little boy.

Being the tender-hearted basset hound that I am, I was particularly touched by the emotional range of this story. The climax of the story comes when young Sam, the child Leonardo has tried to scare, starts to cry. Leonardo interprets his tears as fear-based, but the child explains all the things that have gone wrong recently that have driven him to tears. This provides a wonderful opportunity to talk about names for those feelings: Sam is frustrated, overwhelmed, and lonely.

In classic Mo Willems fashion, the story uses natural, conversational language, never "dumbing down" the vocabulary (and providing just enough humor to keep the adult listeners engaged). This story introduces such terms as "research," "candidate," and "unsuspecting," with plenty of context clues within the illustrations and text to help young readers. He also peppers the story with colorful imagery, such as Leonardo's plan to "scare the tuna salad" out of young Sam. School Library Journal agrees that Willems' book has "perfect pacing" and "astutely childlike perceptions," making this picture book "a standout" ("Leonardo the Terrible Monster" 2006). While the intricate, all-caps typeface provides a nice visual contrast to the simplicity of Willems' artistic style, the fancy lettering may make the text harder to read for emergent readers trying to follow along.

Willems is careful to let the pictures do just as much talking as the words. Library Media Connection explains how his "restrained palette of soft grays, blues, greens, and lavenders with deeper purples for emphasis highlights the text" (Glantz and Scordato 2005). He varies the size of the text to indicate volume (softly spoken words are in small print, while words that are yelled are in large print), and the location of the text on each page changes to accommodate the illustrations, emphasizing that they have equal importance in the telling of the story. The text also leads the eye to the action in the picture, sometimes stairstepping down the middle of the page. At the climax of the story, Willems lets the illustrations answer the question of how Leonardo decides to react to a tearful Sam.

If your pup at home is craving more of Leonardo and his pal Sam, look for Willems' companion book Sam, the Most Scaredy-Cat Kid in the World, in which our hero and his little friend meet another unlikely monster-child duo and, of course, hilarity ensues. Leonardo the Terrible Monster would also pair well with The Island of the Skog by Steven Kellogg, a tale that similarly deals with feelings of fear, teaching children that there's no need to be afraid of the unknown, and that the very creature that seems so scary might just be afraid of...you. These stories provide many opportunities to talk about what children are afraid of and how to tackle these fears.

While I had a hard time turning pages with my paws, I was held captivated by the plot, and I (literally) howled with laughter when I realized that Leonardo wasn't called a terrible monster because he was fearsome; he's just terrible at being a monster! I very much enjoyed this story, and it was even good enough to share with the cat (who is a rather picky reader). It's no wonder that this story won the ALA Notable Children's Book award in 2006! Two paws up for Leonardo, the Terrible Monster!

-Charlie Brown, basset hound

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Glantz, Shelley, and Julie Scordato. "Leonardo, the Terrible Monster." Review of Leonardo, the Terrible Monster, by Mo Willems. Library Media Connection 24, no. 3 (November 2005): 62.

"Leonardo, the Terrible Monster." Review of Leonardo, the Terrible Monster, by Mo Willems. School Library Journal 52 (April 2006): 44.

Willems, Mo. Leonardo, the Terrible Monster. New York: Hyperion Books for Children, 2005. ISBN 9780786852949