Sugar and Snails

Written by Sarah Tsiang

Illustrated by Sonja Wimmer

Annick Press

978-1-77321-005-6

32 pp.

Ages 4-7

March 2018

Though many nursery rhymes have some dark meaning behind them,  I like to think the old English nursery rhyme about boys being made of “frogs and snails and puppy dog tails” and girls being made of “sugar and spice and everything nice” was an innocent poem people may have used to poke fun at the differences between boys and girls.  Then again, maybe not.  But Sarah Tsiang takes the sexism out of that nursery rhyme and shows us that boys and girls can be just about anything they want to be.

From Sugar and Snails

by Sarah Tsiang 

illus. by Sonja Wimmer

Sugar and Snails begins with an embroidered piece of stitchery with the old rhyme on it, and then page by page a grandfather unravels that saying for his grandchildren after the boy wonders about sweet boys such as himself.  The elderly man suggests a myriad of things boys and girls could be as he pretends to recall how the rhyme goes.  But as he suggests things, the grandchildren recognize that they just don't fit.  She doesn't like dresses, and he doesn't like frogs.  There's rocks and butterfly socks, rain boots and whales, and even dirt and lemon dessert.  Any of these could be assigned to either child or both.  It's an equal opportunity rhyme of a menagerie of delights, which ends with the grandfather proclaiming to them, "Dangnamit, I give up.  What in the heck are you made of?" and the stitches of the embroidery being unravelled by little hands.

From Sugar and Snails

by Sarah Tsiang 

illus. by Sonja Wimmer

Sarah Tsiang makes Sugar and Snails a wacky speculative poem that attempts, amusingly though foolishly, to differentiate between boys and girls.  But it's German artist Sonja Wimmer's surreal illustrations that bring that outrageousness to the forefront.  Sonja Wimmer, who illustrated Belle DeMont's wonderful I Love My Purse (Annick, 2017), lends wonderful fluidity and connectedness between the children and that which might define either of them, with a frisson of humour and folly. 

From Sugar and Snails

by Sarah Tsiang 

illus. by Sonja Wimmer

If Sugar and Snails teaches us anything, it's that labelling is restrictive and inappropriate, and children, girls, boys or non-binary, should just be themselves, no matter what an old rhyme proposes.

King Baby

Written and illustrated by Kate Beaton

Arthur A. Levine Books/Scholastic

978-0-545-63754-1

40 pp.

Ages 4-8

September 2016

Though some parents might not find it humourous the way the baby in King Baby has his parents running to and fro to make his life perfect–perhaps they'll see it as castigating their own efforts–children and others will laugh at the uproarious manipulation by a swaddled egg of a baby to get everything, and I mean everything, that he desires, now and forever.  Yep, as the book says, "It is good to be king."

From King Baby by Kate Beaton

From King Baby’s birth, after which he is presented to his many admirers bearing gifts and admiration, the baby is generous with his smiles and laughs and kisses, his wiggles, gurgles and coos.  But then he begins to demand: food, burping, changing, bouncing, being carried.  It’s endless.  For King Baby, life is grand.  For King Baby’s parents, life is exhausting.  He sees them as subjects, fools even, though their ineptitude finally gets him up and toddling.  His future is even more glorious now with all that he can accomplish, though not always to everyone’s delight. (The cat looks a little dismayed.)  But King Baby has to grow up, and becoming a big boy, he learns that they’ll be going through the whole process again, this time with Queen Baby.

It’s obvious that Kate Beaton, known as Auntie Katie to the Malcolm to whom she dedicates the book, knows that of which she writes and illustrates.  A new baby is a wondrous joy but an exhausting one.  Kate Beaton’s quirky illustrations, especially of King Baby as a rotund creature swaddled in a blanket and topped with a golden crown, are too funny, and lend a comical air to a bizarrely normal yet wacky situation i.e., the joy and adoration of a new baby.  I don’t know if Kate Beaton meant to give King Baby that evil glint in his eye but he seems to know what he’s doing i.e., making everyone jump to satisfy his every whim.  Without the means to communicate with clarity, King Baby has them running around doing everything to appease him.  Ah, it’s good to be king!

From King Baby by Kate Beaton

Share this hilarious book with any new parents you know.  If they’re not too tired, they’ll certainly see the humour in their situation.  And if they’re just too tired, share it with the aunts and uncles and grandmothers and grandfathers and godmothers and everyone else who appreciate the cuteness that is a new baby but recognize the long haul of parenting still to come.  Hail the royal entourage!

As a Boy

by Plan International

Second Story Press

98-1-77260-016-2

24 pp.

Ages 5-9

September 2016

I don’t know why we always seem to set up competitions between boys and girls, or separate them into teams that are boys versus girls.  There may be pockets (sometimes very large ones) around the world that feel the need to treat boys and girls differently and separately, justifying that attitude with archaic ideas from religion or culture.  But As a Boy, which launches today, demonstrates that boys can be just as supportive of girls’ rights as girls have needed to be and the book does so in a superbly photographed fashion with simple but prophetic statements of encouragement and defense.

Beginning with a cheerful spread of a dozen photos of babies whose gender is impossible to discern, As a Boy recognizes that being a boy or a girl is simply a matter of chance.  For the boys, choices will be both presumed and provided as opportunities.  While there are opportunities that boys are very fortunate to have, like education, it’s not all glory as there are expectations to being a man.  However, the boys in these photographs from across the globe, photos of boys with other boys, with girls, as fathers, as brothers and sons, recognize that all children need “to be free to choose what they want to be” (pg. 17) and that “As boys, we can stand up for everyone” (pg. 23). What a powerful message of advocacy for the rights of all to choose.

Perhaps a companion book to Plan International’s earlier Because I am a Girl: I Can Change the World (Second Story Press, 2014) or Every Day is Malala Day (Second Story Press, 2014), As a Boy has its own lesson of advocacy to share.  The message is dominant but it wouldn’t have the impact it does if not for the diversity of photographs taken of babies, boys, girls, and families from around the world.  Every child is here, as they should be, given the opportunity to shine with life and chances and choices.  As a Boy lets the world know that this is the way it should be.

Girl on the Run

by B. R. Myers

Nimbus Publishing

978-1-77108-352-2

332 pp.

Ages 12+

September 2015

I’m sorry I didn’t review this book sooner but I should have recalled how much I’d been impressed with B. R. Myers’ debut novel, Butterflies Don’t Lie (Nimbus, 2014).  But, here I am again, reviewing in winter a book that takes place during summer. Let’s look at it this way, though:  it’s that time of year when high school students are thinking about summer jobs and parents are anticipating signing up their children for summer camps.  So, it’s still all good: both Girl on the Run and reviewing Girl on the Run now.

Seventeen-year-old Jesse Collins used to be a runner and a very good one.  But that all changed four months ago when her father died suddenly.

I used to care about provincial records, and even the Olympics, but not anymore.  Those were things I no longer had, and no longer deserved.  I put my hand on my stomach, on the heaviness that was always there.  A reminder of what I’d done and what I’d lost. (pg. 49)

Now it’s all she can do to push forward through her days, convince her mother that she’s not depressed and give in to her BFF’s attempts to get her dating and meeting the right guy.  Jesse needs a fresh start and two months at Kamp Krystal Lake as a counsellor is what she plans to do.  What she doesn’t plan on is there being a mix-up with the camp thinking she was a male and entrusting her with Cabin 4A, a small makeshift cabin, and four twelve-year-old boys: the camp owner’s terror of a son, Spencer; twins Liam and Duff; and the kindest of all, Scotty.

While Jesse tries to make the best of things, which isn’t always easy, she does meet new people who don’t know about her past and she’s so good with that.  There’s Devin, another counsellor (or so she thinks) that is making the moves on her; Lewis, recent grad and part of the kitchen staff; Alicia, a friendly lifeguard; Lacey, the perfect counsellor to a cabin of pink cupettes, as Jesse calls them; and Kirk, the head counsellor who always seems to catch her at her worst but whose milk chocolate eyes consistently attract her notice.

But the pranks pulled by the boys, including a fake drowning that costs Jesse a special necklace from her parents, commemorating her first provincial running record, brings her to the attention of the camp director, Susan, who wonders, along with Kirk and Lacey, whether they should be looking for another counsellor for the boys.  And, though the camp is eager to have Jesse run for them in the annual lake triathlon against other camps, Jesse is adamant that she will not.

Still, guilt-ridden about her dad’s death, Jesse perseveres, through humiliation and misunderstandings and misplaced crushings and some kissing, to find that she has a lot more gumption than she first thought and is able to make Kamp Krystal Lake a positive experience for more than just herself.

B. R. Myers embeds a lot of constructive messages in this sweet volume of teen chicklit. Not only do readers get to share in a summer fling with Jesse and go through the full camp experience of  outdoor activities, dances, dining hall shenanigans and food, they will learn a lot about Jesse’s namesake, runner Jesse Owens, about working through guilt and grief, and about resiliency.  Lessons well learned and even enjoyed by Jesse herself, the Girl on the Run.