Love Seen and Lost

Sumiko Yagawa (retelling)
Katherine Paterson (translation)
Kuekichi Akaba (illustrations)
The Crane Wife
William Morrow, 1981

Yohei, the Japanese everyman who was last encountered in this blog as a the son of a fishmonger, is in The Crane Wife a poor peasant in a mountain village. After he helps a wounded crane, a beautiful young woman knocks on his door and asks to become his wife. As the couple struggles to make it through the cold winter, she offers to weave cloth to sell in the market on the condition that Yohei refrain from watching her at the loom. Inevitably, predictably, and tragically he cannot restrain himself. In the end, Yohei is left with a bolt of gorgeous, unearthly cloth and no wife. Enthusiasts of Greek myths may hear in this Japanese folktale echoes of Psyche and Cupid. Kuekichi Akaba's illustrations are like the crane wife herself, delicate and enchanting and elusive. Beside her eloquent English rendering, Katherine Paterson gives us a note about the understandable popularity of the crane wife story in Japanese culture.

Kitchen Maid and One-eyed Steward Live Happily Ever After

Katherine Paterson (author)

Leo and Diane Dillon

The Tale of the Mandarin Ducks

Lodestar, 1990

The gorgeous plumage of a male mandarin duck captures the attention of a Japanese lord who delights in the possession of beautiful things. The lord's one-eyed retainer, Shozo, however, sees more deeply. Shozo knows that the drake will languish and die in captivity, but his compassionate advice to let the bird go earns only the lord's scorn. Katherine Paterson crafts a classic tale pitting power and vanity against against charity. Inspired by Japanese woodblock prints, Leo and Diane Dillon's eye-catching illustrations lure us into this tale about sight and insight.

Ruby is growing up

Lenore Look (author)
Stef Choi (illustrator)
Ruby Lu: Star of the Show
Atheneum, 2011

With an epigraph from FDR's first inaugural speech, Lenore Look signals to us that the Great Recession has arrived at 20th Avenue South. But I was completely taken by Stef Choi's vaudeville cover illustration, and thus, it came as a shock when Ruby's father lost his job and the consequences of that loss quickly mounted. That gap between expectations and reality is all too depressingly familiar these days. But Ruby, her family, her friends and community rise to the challenges. Growing up entails losing things (no more show-and-tell), but also gaining things (haiku as a vehicle for expressing excitement, fear, and anger). The loss of steady income can lead to panic and despair, but it can also lead to creativity, pride, community spirit, and realization of one's humanity. It isn't easy, but Rudy earns rewards beyond riches for doing the right thing for the right reasons.

She saw using her seesaw

Linda Sue Park (author)
Jean and Mou-sien Tseng (illustrators)
Seesaw Girl
Clarion, 1999

Twelve-year-old Jade Blossom did not immediately grab my interest, but with each ensuing chapter, I found her more and more compelling. Born into an elite family (her father was an advisor to the Korean king), Jade enjoys tremendous advantages, a fine house, fine clothes, good food, and servants. But, her high status comes also with responsibilities and restrictions. She must wait on the men of her family, for example. When her closest friend and confident, her cousin Willow, marries into another family and moves away, Jade realizes just how difficult it is to hew to social expectations. She is desperate to escape the walls of her family's home, but this was forbidden to girls of her status. Jade must find a way to satisfy her curiosity and ambitions without bringing shame to her family. Linda Sue Park's story offers a glimpse into pre-modern Korean society, and while much is different for children growing up in many parts of the modern world, it nevertheless offers thoughtful instruction for meeting social challenges.

Peach-boy, superhero

Stephanie Wada (retelling)
Kano Naganobu (paintings)
Momotarō and the Island of Ogres
George Braziller, 2005

Since East Asian painting has long interested me, I was delighted to find this illustrated folktale. Stephanie Wada, a curator of Japanese art, illustrates her retelling of Momotarō with details taken from a set of two handscroll paintings by Kano Naganobu (1775-1828), a painter to the Tokugawa shogunate. The wide, skinny format of the book shows parts of the painting to their best advantage. As we follow the adopted Momotarō, born from a peach, along his journey to Onigashima (the island of ogres), we are treated to splendid landscapes of rivers and mountains, scenes of confrontation and battle, and views of triumph and celebration. The images are subtler than your run-of-the-mill picture book, and the prose more adult. Together, images and text demand and reward more careful engagement. If only we could have kibi-dango dumplings as part of our reward, too!

Follow that cat

Koko Nishizuka (author)

Rosanne Litzinger (illustrator)

The Beckoning Cat: Based on a Japanese Folktale

Holiday House, 2009

You know the one. The one that sits at restaurants and supermarkets and gift shops starting wide-eyed and raising a single paw at you. That's the one. They are everywhere, and apparently it all started with Yohei, a Japanese "everyboy." Yohei is a fishmonger who sells his fresh catch door-to-door. But when father falls ill, he must forego his work and meager earnings to look after his father at home. Despite the family's poverty, Yohei always shared some fish with a white cat, who now returns his generosity by beckoning customers to his home. Story and pictures are cute, and it's generally nice to reinforce the belief that goodness is rewarded, but there is not much more than that. I'm glad to have an explanation of the beckoning kitties, but now I'm left wondering, why do blue morning glories appear throughout the story?

3 stones + generosity = happiness

Jon J Muth
Stone Soup
Scholastic, 2003

With his quietly enchanting watercolors and light narrative touch, Jon J Muth transposes the European folk tale into a traditional Chinese setting. Three monks in lieu of soldiers arrive at the shuttered gates and windows of a town populated by villages who have long distrusted one another. Undisturbed, the monks set about gathering twigs and preparing stone soup. A young girl, curious and willing to open her heart, queries the monks and responds to their need for a bigger pot. Her action begins a virtuous cycle that leads to a communal feast. Get it, read it, share it, and keep the inspiration going.

Frightful fruit

Janie Jaehyun Park 

The Tiger and the Dried Persimmon

Groundwood Books, 2002

I always find it interesting to compare two or more versions of the same story, and so it was exciting to find another telling of this Korean folktale. What I like best about Janie Jaehyun Park's The Tiger and the Dried Persimmon are her illustrations. The stylized imagery of fungus-shaped clouds, layered hills, and downright goofy-looking tiger is drawn from traditional East Asian painting. Her colors and textures, though, are more of the Impressionist to Post-impression kinds. The combination (which is being explored by contemporary Chinese artists such as Zhang Hongtu) is anything but derivative. Park's prose pales next to her vivid pictures, and her telling demonstrates the key role played by the rabbit in Suzanne Crowder Han's version, but the pathetic tiger's face sticks. 

Not the Easter bunny

Suzanne Crowder Han (retelling)
Richard Wehrman (illustrator)
The Rabbit's Tail: A Story from Korea
Henry Holt, 1999

Readers familiar with this folktale will see the pun in the title—a tale about a tail. Some folktales convey a needed lesson for proper socialization; others are clever explanations for why things are the way they are. Suzanne Crowder Han's The Rabbit's Tail belongs to the latter category. A hilarious chain of misunderstandings begins with Tiger's unfamiliarity with dried persimmons. (And, just in case you don't know, it's a dried fruit, common in East Asia.) When he hears a baby hush at the mention of dried persimmons, Tiger imagines a being far more powerful than himself. Fearful, he seeks a hiding place in the barn. When a thief comes to steal an ox, he mistakes Tiger for a calf, which he ropes and then rides. Not seeing the thief, Tiger imagines that the dried persimmon has come after him. The thief soon realizes his error, and fears for his life. I am tempted to go on, but it would be too much of a spoiler. So, I'll just note that when the rabbit tries to spell out what is what, he probably didn't plan on losing his tail for it.

Dress up, fit in

Carolyn Marsden

The Gold-Threaded Dress

Candlewick, 2002

Kun Pa's outstanding Thai cooking earned Oy's family the opportunity to move to America. That's where Oy, who is known at school as Olivia, is trying to fit in. Liliandra, the school's "queen bee," chances to see a photograph of Oy dressed in a gold-threaded, pink silk dress, looking just like a princess. Already imbued with Oy's memory and identity, the dress becomes an object of desire, contention, and humiliation. With her parent's loving support, Oy perseveres and learns to distinguish between true and false friends. The Gold-Threaded Dress is a short read, and while it is not especially subtle, it does introduce some complexity in human experience. When we first meet the character of Frankie, for example, he erroneously teases Oy for her "Chinese" appearance; at the book's end, he introduces Oy to his Chinese grandfather, Yeh-Yeh.

binga-binga

Katherine Paterson (translator)
Momoko Issii (author)
Suekichi Akaba (illustrator)
The Tongue-cut Sparrow
Lonestar Books, E. F. Dutton, 1987

Binga-binga, or sparkling clean, is how the old man renders first an ox and then a horse as he seeks the home of the tongue-cut sparrow. After performing these menial tasks with care, he meets the sparrow and offers an apology for his wife's cruelty (she was the one who snipped its tongue). In return, the sparrow offers the man a fine meal and the choice of two baskets, large or small, to take home. But...he must not open the basket until he reaches home. Heeding the sparrow's caution, he returns home where he and his wife are astonished by the treasure inside the basket. The thought of more treasure fills the old woman with greed. Thus, she makes her own trek to the home of the tongue-cut sparrow, leaving in her wake, gosho-gosho, a poorly washed ox and a poorly washed horse. Although we all know she will get her just desserts, it is still great fun to read about it. A series of onomatopoetic Japanese terms gives our own tongues some fun, and the caricatured expressions in Suekichi Akaba's spare illustrations are cute, monstrous, and funny. Words and images work together to stamp this folktale and its moral into our memory.

Anticipating New Year

Catherine Gower (author)

He Zhihong (illustrator)

Long-Long's New Year

Tuttle, 2005

  In preparation for the new year, young Long-Long accompanies his grandfather to market to sell cabbages. As grandfather patiently waits for customers, Long-Long takes their bicycle for repair and earns one yuan for helping the repairman. His grandfather continues his marketplace vigil, as Long-Long considers whether to spend his yuan for steamed buns or rice soup with pickled vegetables. A fortuitous conversation with the cook ensues. Turns out, she needs cabbages. As she approaches Grandpa, she scolds his dubious competition, "I told you never to come back here! What are you selling this time? More holes and caterpillars?" After selling all his cabbages, Grandpa readies for the journey home, while Long-Long sifts through wares at the Hundred Goods Store for gifts for his mother and sister. The two return to Ma and Hong-Hong who step cheerfully over the threshold of their front gate, which is decorated with lucky red messages of the Spring Festival. 

  Catherine Gower's wholesome, rural story is less about new year, and more about rural life. The anticipation of new year gives initial momentum to the narrative, but really the book is about civility, sociality, and family. He Zhihong's charming ink and color images accompany the story. She has an eye for detail, and the reader will find an abundance of vernacular vignettes and material culture. Its effect reminded me of the Song-dynasty painting, Spring Festival on the River 清明上河圖. A glossary provides additional information about Chinese words used in this story.

Qilin-giraffe-Tweega

James Rumford
Chee-lin: A Giraffe's Journey
Houghton Mifflin, 2008

James Rumford previously wrote a journey-based story about the medieval North African traveller Ibn Battuta. This time, Rumford draws inspiration from an early Ming-dynasty painting of what the Chinese identified as a qilin 麒麟, a mythical beast with horns of a dragon, body of a deer, tail of an ox, and hooves of a horse. This qilin was, however, real. Rumford gives the creature a name, Tweega (Swahili for giraffe), and a life story. Young Tweega is born in East Africa, but hunters soon capture him and gift him to the sultan of Malindi. He, in turn, gifts Tweega to the sultan of Bengal, who then offers the beast to the Emperor of China. Throughout his life, Tweega receives good and bad care from humans, whom he aptly names Tall-Boy or Salt-Man, Chattering-Man or Whispering Girl. These encounters, along with the repetition of a phrase of future prediction, "But Chattering-Man could not have been more wrong," give this book more narrative heft and continuity compared to the book about Ibn Battuta. Rumford's artistic talents are everywhere visible, including the map of Tweega the Chee-lin's Journey (which is informed by Ming-dynasty map-making conventions) and his calligraphic transcription of the artist Shen Du's poetic description of the qilin.

Lunar New Year books

I'm a little late with this post, but better late than never, right?


I've already reviewed two version of the legend of the animals of the Chinese zodiac (Monica Chang's retelling, Story of the Chinese Zodiac and Ed Young's Cat and Rat), but of course there are many more to choose from. Dawn Casey's The Great Race: The Story of the Chinese Zodiac gives a lively account by focusing on the side vignettes of the animals' racing strategies and styles. The animals speak to one another, "Come on, Ox!", and the anticipation grows as they near the finish line. Anne Wilson's illustrations are charming, colorful, and equally lively. We have to forgive her vaguely Mughal-looking Jade Emperor and ill-formed Chinese nine 九. A few notes at the end provide additional information about the lunar calendar and major holidays. Children and adults will enjoy looking up their zodiac animal and learning of their attributes, too.


You may be curious not only of the zodiac animal for this year (the Rabbit 兔), but of new year traditions. Grace Lin and Janet Wong both offer colorful introductions. In her typical way, Lin brings us into her immediate and extended family who prepare by cleaning and cooking, decorating and dancing. Wong's approach is more multi-cultural, with a main character who is half-Korean with friends who are likewise born of two cultures. A Franco-German friend celebrates Chinese new year by getting Thai food to go. Cleansing rituals are focused on hoping and dreaming of good luck. Both authors provide additional notes to readers.

Dawn Casey (author) and Anne Wilson (illustrator)

The Great Race: The Story of the Chinese Zodiac

Barefoot Books, 2006

Grace Lin

Bringing in the New Year

Alfred A. Knopf, 2008

Janet S. Wong (author) and Yangsook Choi (illustrator)
This Next New Year
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2000

Remembering

Linda Gerdner and Sarah Langford (authors)
Stuart Loughridge (illustrator)
Grandfather's Story Cloth
Shen's Books, 2008

A sensitive and creative boy, Chersheng lives with his brother, parents, and grandfather in the United States. His aging grandfather is afflicted with Alzheimer's disease, and Chersheng must cope with Grandfather's unpredictable forgetfulness. When Grandfather gathers wood for a fire or leaves the bathroom faucet running, it isn't so bad. But, one night, Grandfather forgets who Chersheng is. To comfort him, Chersheng's mother shows him a story cloth that Grandfather made after the family along with other Hmong people fled Laos and lived in a refugee camp in Thailand. The story cloth gives Chersheng a way to connect with his grandfather, and it inspires him to create new artwork connecting grandfather's story to his own.

American dream

Yin (author) and Chris Soentpiet (illustrator)

Brothers

Philomel, 2006

  A few weeks ago, I wrote about another book, Coolies, by this wife-and-husband team. Five years after that effort, Yin and Chris Soentpiet published this book Brothers. Like Coolies, Brothers features a pair of Chinese immigrant brothers, Shek and Ming. The story begins with Shek meeting his younger brother Ming who has just disembarked in San Francisco. When Shek finds extra work on a farm, Ming minds the store in Chinatown. Ming is not supposed to wander beyond the immediate neighborhood, but his curiosity gets the best of him. He meets a boy his age, Patrick O'Farrell, and their transcultural friendship eventually saves the family's store.
  Yin's story clearly chooses to focus on the possibilities of cooperative success (note the boys' excitement bursting in the illustration with a newly fashioned sign, "General Store, We Speak English"), instead of the dark stories of immigration and racism. It gives us reason to feel good, to hope, and to keep trying to make our world a better place. Chris Soentpiet's illustrations are, like Yin's story, finely crafted. There is evidence of generosity and care on every page of this satisfying story.

Journey

James Rumford
Traveling Man: The Journey of Ibn Battuta, 1325-1354
Houghton Mifflin, 2001

  Marco Polo is more famous to American audiences but Ibn Battuta is the earlier and more traveled explorer. Born in Morroco, his initial motivation—piety—takes him on religious pilgrimage from north Africa through Egypt and down the Arabian peninsula to Mecca. From there, he continues onward to Persia, India, Southeast Asia, and China. Almost thirty years and 75,000 miles later (no frequent flyer awards in those days), he returns home.
  In choosing to cover the geographic distance and cultural variety of Ibn Battuta's travels, James Rumford must necessarily limit other aspects, such as character development and narrative complexity. What is left, though, is nevertheless inspiring. The book reads like excerpted from an illustrated travelogue, recording momentary impressions and immediate concerns. Around the text, Rumford provides rich and appropriately impressionistic images in watercolor. And, he illuminates the text with decorative borders of abstract designs, calligraphy, and whimsical figures. A meandering line of text gives direction and movement through the kaleidoscope of written and painted messages. I also like the "sepia" postcards Rumford adds to the endpapers. A glossary and map provide additional information at the book's end.

Keeping Count

It's April, and I thought it would be a good time to take account.

63 reviews in November and December.
26 in January
24 in February
12 in March

for 125 books in the first five months of this blog.

The pace of reviews has slowed, a reflection of both my time and the range of books in the public library collections in my area. I will keep posting, but the pace will be closer to weekly than daily.