Neville

Gr 1-3—Finding new friends after a family move can be one of the most devastating traumas of childhood, but Juster and Karas use imagination and humor to address the situation. Told by his mother to take a walk down the block—"you might meet someone"—a child takes her suggestion to a new level. Heading down the sidewalk, he suddenly throws his head back and shouts "NEVILLE" at the top of his lungs. Soon one child, then another, and before long, a bevy of youngsters show up mimicking his cry. Even the neighborhood dogs join in. Questions fly as to who this Neville is and what he is like, and at the end of the day, as everyone goes home for supper, the crowd pleads with the boy to return tomorrow, which, of course, he is happy to do. Karas places likably scruffy-looking children across the spreads and, in sync with the call-outs for "Neville," stretches out hand-written versions of the name in various sizes and colors, cleverly capturing the evolving event with wit and energy. Although Juster doesn't reveal who Neville is until the last page, sharp readers will guess his identity early on. Nevertheless, this ingenious foray into breaking into a new neighborhood makes for an amusing and appealing story.—Barbara Elleman, Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art, Amherst, MA

In this emotionally authentic tale of an unhappy new kid in town, Karas (Young Zeus) pictures the boy--unnamed at first--punting a box off his front stoop, then grumpily taking his mother's advice to "take a little walk down the block." The boy slouches to a street corner and begins to call out the name "Neville." As he shouts, other children gather to help and ask about Neville ("When did he move here?"). Oddly, they never ask the boy his own name, nor do they fret when Neville fails to appear. By sunset, the displaced child can half-smile at having made acquaintances. Karas's melancholy illustrations brighten and expand as the mood improves; small, quiet type sets the sullen tone, until colorful hand-lettered display type implies the children's collective chatter. Readers learn the boy's name only at bedtime (hint: it starts with N), a resolution that reinforces sympathy. Juster (The Odious Ogre) identifies a common, stressful situation, and Karas handles the drama with compassion, implying a lonely, single-parent household. Even if the narrative logic falls short, this poignant tale expresses a longing for connections. Ages 4-8. (Oct.)