THE SPIDER AND THE FLY by Tony Diterlizzi

Diterlizzi, Tony. The Spider and the Fly. Based on the tale by Mary Howitt. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2002. ISBN: 978-0-689-85289-3.

The Spider and the Fly revamps Mary Howitt’s cautionary tale about a soothsaying spider and a sweet, naïve fly by pairing the verse with Tony Diterlizzi’s Caldecott-honored illustrations. At first glance, contemporary book browsers might wonder how a poem written in 1829 (complete with Victorian vernacular) could hold the attention of today’s child reader. However, all dusted off and with a fresh coat of paint, this story proves that some scares are timeless. Diterlizzi’s drawings toe the line between charming and creepy, with an aesthetic nod to old film noir and Edward Gorey. The story itself plays out the melodrama of an unsuspecting damselfly who meets an unfortunate end at the many hands of a scheming spider.

The text rings with the moralizing overtones common to the children’s literature of its era. This is a story with a lesson, particularly for little girls, about the big bad world. Some parents may bristle at the basic plot trajectory – a wide-eyed babe in the woods is taken in, seduced, and murdered by an unctuous older man – but hey, they’re only insects! And as the afterword reminds any disgruntled readers, “What did you expect from a story about a spider and a fly? Happily ever after?” That being said, this book would best be reserved for an elementary school aged reader (the jacket advises 6 and up).

Diterlizzi’s illustrations really do balance out the spookiness and slime with sophisticated fun. The little Fly is all rouged up like a flapper while the Spider smolders like a portly Gomez Addams. The backgrounds of each scene are not to be missed; these pages were designed for lingering. The Spider’s lair is dripping with beautifully gory detail, decorated by a dead ladybug footrest and a coffee table copy of The Joy of Cooking Bugs. Diterlizzi also accomplishes a haunting range of light and shadow using only black, white, and shades of gray.

All in all, this is a lovely book with some serious style. There’s an applicable message about the dangers of sweet-talking strangers, but the illustrations are worth the price of admission alone.

Emily Lohorn

BUZZ by Eileen Spinelli

Spinelli, Eileen. Illus. Vincent Nguyen. BUZZ. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2010. ISBN: 978-1-4169-4925-1, $15.99 

BUZZ. I can probably recite every word of BUZZ. The reason? My niece loves it. Fortunately, it's a cute book and I rather like it myself. Eileen Spinelli has set the story in response to the scientific statement that "aerodynamically speaking, the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumble doesn't know it, so it goes on flying anyway." She switches it around a bit, though, and the story explores what might happen if a bumblebee did find out that she couldn't fly.

BUZZ centers around three main characters: Buzz, Snail, and Old Owl. All three live a happy existence and Buzz especially loves being able to fly over fields of clover, trees, and Snail's briar. Old Owl is lovable in his stereotypical aloofness and Snail is kind—especially when Buzz, devastated upon seeing a news article reporting the scientific findings, can no longer fly. Unfortunately, this happens right when Buzz needs to fly the most. Old Owl is in great danger and only Buzz can save him—if she could fly. Alas, she can't, and Buzz has to come up with another way to save Old Owl.

This book is more than just a sweet little story and pretty pictures; it poses the question: "What will you do when someone says you can't succeed?"

As a side note: I tried out a fun reading development technique (which is appropriate for any illustrated book a child knows well) that was a great success. I asked my niece if she wanted to write the story of Buzz. She excitedly said yes, so I pulled out a piece of paper. I asked her to look at the pictures and tell me a story of what happened. There was a lot of "Buzzy, buzzy, buzzy Buzz!" but it was worth every single reading to watch a three year-old, clutching a few pages to her chest, proudly proclaim: "I'm an author! I writed a book!" Did she put pen to paper? No. But she is beginning to associate the act of writing and words and the creation of written narrative. Who knows, one day she might write her very own book for someone else to review!

Reviewed by Stephanie Ashley

Review: ALIEN INVADERS by Lynn Huggins-Cooper

Huggins-Cooper, Lynn. Alien Invaders. Illus. Bonnie Leick. McHenry, IL: Raven Tree, 2010. ISBN 0-9724973-9-8. $16.95.

This very funny perspective on bugs as the real aliens is deadpan right on both in words and eye-popping illustrations. I have it in this non-fiction section because everything said in it is true, but it is really unclassifiable, as it is imagination at its best. In pithy prose, insect and other wildlife conservationist Huggins-Cooper homes in on suspicious bug traits that give us regular folk the creeps, like “They watch us with camera-like eyes. Are they taking pictures?” Or, “I hear them whisper in secret languages. I see them dance strange dances.”

How is this funny?

The art elevates the already excellent text onto a higher level. Actually, this is my first time seeing Bonnie Leick (‘Like”)’s art and I’m stunned. The “They set up camp in our gardens” painting is 3-D and must be, the observer concludes, done digitally. Yet, the book’s flap states Leick’s medium is watercolor. Well, hats off! The art for the “Are they taking pictures?” page ought to be framed. It reminds one of the 3-Dish photos of Dogs!, and are all the more impressive for being as hilarious and memorably peculiar, yet done with paint.

I’m forwarding this to an American Library Association friend to ask she look at it for the Caldecott.

Alida Allison