Showing posts with label Kane/Miller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kane/Miller. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

ZIBA CAME ON A BOAT by Liz Lofthouse

Lofthouse, Liz. Ziba Came on a Boat. Illus. Robert Ingpen. La Jolla, Calif.: Kane/Miller Book Publishers, Inc., 2007. ISBN 978-1-933605-52-4. $15.95.

Ziba Came on a Boat is the story of Afghan refugees traveling by sea to an undisclosed host country. The crowded fishing boat surrounded by blue water is the initial and oft repeated full-page image—the constant return to the image throughout crafts the ebb-and-flow feel of the story. The narrative crosscuts from occurrences at sea—waves, calm, storm—that prompt young Ziba’s flashbacks to her mountainous village before and after Taliban rule. The connection between sensory experience and memory is sophisticated and fluid; the text is straightforward and resonant. The reader gets the feel of the monotony and solitude of this type of desperate boat escape—sitting cross-legged, exposed to the elements, surrounded only by family, having fled without belongings. All that remains are memories, good and bad, hope for the future, and dreams of “azadi”—freedom.

As difficult as the underlying subject matter is, this book is a gentle gem, accessible and re-readable. The undercurrent of hope and the security of already having escaped prevent readers from experiencing any anxiety. Ziba’s flashbacks focus on childhood scenes that are universal—reading schoolbooks and helping to set the dinner table—and more culturally-specific, like carrying water jugs back to her mud-brick home. Her snapshot memories translate easily for a young audience, while the background illustrations invite talking opportunities between child and adult readers. While the illustrations of faces tend to be a bit fuzzy (though ethnically specific), the depictions of mountainous Afghanistan are lovely and informative without romanticizing village life. The book is frank but inviting—perfect for readers interested in a multicultural world where children experience political strife.

Chandra Howard

Friday, July 27, 2012

THE NIGHTS OF THE WORLD by Corinne Albaut

Albaut, Corinne. The Nights of the World. Illus. Arno. La Jolla, CA: Kane/Miller, 2005. ISBN: 1-929132-79-4. Interactive Picturebook, Ages 2-5.

I picked this book off the shelves to review because I wanted to give it as a gift to a friend expecting her first child. The book, which takes its reader on a journey through five different regions of the world, is beautifully made, with a thick, sturdy cover, double-thick pages made of cardstock-weight paper, brightly colored art, sliding panels, and simple text that seemed perfect for bedtime read-alouds.

The story introduces the reader to five different children: Kendé, Kamanga, Melisse, Siiku, and Machiko. Each child is featured on a one page spread, with sliding panels on the right-side page that pull out to reveal a secondary picture and text. Each page follows the same pattern: “At night, Kendé falls asleep on a woolen carpet. By day...[pull out picture panels]...he marches through the desert, in step with the camels.” For each new region, the background and font changes to reflect traditional ethnic patterns.

I have two major concens with this book. First, the pages don't mention the actual location of that child. For example, Machiko sleeps on a futon, and by day, lets the wind steal her kite. As an adult, I know the author intended her to be from Japan. But some of the others are more ambiguous. Secondly, I would be concerned that, as young readers get older, this book might reinfornce traditional stereotypes about people in faraway cultures. The seemingly Inuit Siiku, for example, sleeps inside an igloo, hugged by a polar bear. While this makes for a pretty picture, it's not at all the lifestyle of modern Inuit people. In fact, I can't imagine they EVER slept with live polar bears!

That being said, I will still give the book as a baby gift. The pictures are pretty and the pull-out tabs are a great way for young children to interact with a text they can't yet read. It's sturdy enough to withstand the rough play of a baby or toddler. I can easily foresee this being a fun way to create a bedtime “community” of characters – all of whom bunker down at night without a fuss.

Marisa Behan