The Invention of Hugo CabretSynopsis: An orphan, Hugo Cabret lives in a Paris train station where he keeps the clock after his uncle disappears and steals to live. After an encounter with a bookish girl and a crotchety toy maker, Hugo's live begins to unwind. He had to unravel the secret of his father's life and find his future. A wonderful blend of words and pictures, Hugo Cabret truly sets the imagination on fire. The historical character of Georges Melies added in makes this a book that bursts barriers in all directions.
Citation: Selznick, Brian. The Invention of Hugo Cabret. (2007). Illus by the author. New York: Scholastic.
My thoughts: I LOVE this book. From the first time I picked it up, I was snared. The wonderful original drawings, the scenes from early motion pictures, and the moving text all combine for a dynamite package. I recommend this book more than probably any another in my library.
Library usage: I would love to use this book as a tie-in with a movie theme, particularly the history of motion pictures. I would also use it with other inventor books like Ben and Now as an exploration of the imagination and man's abilty to create.
Reviews:
Here's a dilemma for the Newbery committee ... and the Caldecott: what do you do with an illustrated novel in which neither text nor pictures can tell the story alone? Not to mention the drama to be found in the page turns themselves. A brief introduction sets the time (1931) and place (Paris) and invites readers to imagine they're at the movies. And with a turn of the page, they are, as, over a sequence of twenty-one double-page wordless spreads, a story begins. A picture of the moon gives way to an aerial shot of Paris; day breaks as the "camera" moves into a shot of a train station, where a boy makes his way to a secret passage from which, through a peephole, he watches an old man sitting at a stall selling toys. Finally, the text begins: "From his perch behind the clock, Hugo could see everything." The story that follows in breathtaking counterpoint is a lively one, involving the dogged Hugo, his tough little ally Isabelle, an automaton that can draw pictures, and a stage magician turned filmmaker, the rea-life Georges Melies, most famously the director of A Trip to the Moon (1902). There is a bounty of mystery and incident here, along with several excellent chase scenes expertly rendered in the atmospheric, dramatically crosshatched black-and-white (naturally) pencil drawings that make up at least a third of the book. (According to the final chapter, and putting a metafictional spin on things, there are 158 pictures and 26,159 words in the book.) The interplay between the illustrations (including several stills from Melies's frequently surreal films and others from the era) and text is complete genius, especially in the way Selznick moves from one to the other, depending on whether words or images are the better choice for the moment. And as in silent films, it's always just one or the other, wordless double-spread pictures or unillustrated text, both framed in the enticing black of the silent screen. While the bookmaking is spectacular, and the binding secure but generous enough to allow the pictures to flow easily across the gutter, The Invention of Hugo Cabret is foremost good storytelling, with a sincerity and verbal ease reminiscent of Andrew Clements (a frequent Selznick collaborator) and themes of secrets, dreams, and invention that play lightly but resonantly throughout. At one point, Hugo watches in awe as Isabelle blithely picks the lock on a door. "How did you learn to do that?" he asks. "Books," she answers. Exactly so.
Here's a dilemma for the Newbery committee ... and the Caldecott: what do you do with an illustrated novel in which neither text nor pictures can tell the story alone? Not to mention the drama to be found in the page turns themselves. A brief introduction sets the time (1931) and place (Paris) and invites readers to imagine they're at the movies. And with a turn of the page, they are, as, over a sequence of twenty-one double-page wordless spreads, a story begins. A picture of the moon gives way to an aerial shot of Paris; day breaks as the "camera" moves into a shot of a train station, where a boy makes his way to a secret passage from which, through a peephole, he watches an old man sitting at a stall selling toys. Finally, the text begins: "From his perch behind the clock, Hugo could see everything." The story that follows in breathtaking counterpoint is a lively one, involving the dogged Hugo, his tough little ally Isabelle, an automaton that can draw pictures, and a stage magician turned filmmaker, the rea-life Georges Melies, most famously the director of A Trip to the Moon (1902). There is a bounty of mystery and incident here, along with several excellent chase scenes expertly rendered in the atmospheric, dramatically crosshatched black-and-white (naturally) pencil drawings that make up at least a third of the book. (According to the final chapter, and putting a metafictional spin on things, there are 158 pictures and 26,159 words in the book.) The interplay between the illustrations (including several stills from Melies's frequently surreal films and others from the era) and text is complete genius, especially in the way Selznick moves from one to the other, depending on whether words or images are the better choice for the moment. And as in silent films, it's always just one or the other, wordless double-spread pictures or unillustrated text, both framed in the enticing black of the silent screen. While the bookmaking is spectacular, and the binding secure but generous enough to allow the pictures to flow easily across the gutter, The Invention of Hugo Cabret is foremost good storytelling, with a sincerity and verbal ease reminiscent of Andrew Clements (a frequent Selznick collaborator) and themes of secrets, dreams, and invention that play lightly but resonantly throughout. At one point, Hugo watches in awe as Isabelle blithely picks the lock on a door. "How did you learn to do that?" he asks. "Books," she answers. Exactly so.
Sutton, Roger. "The Invention of Hugo Cabret." The Horn Book Magazine Mar.-Apr. 2007: 173+. Literature Resource Center. Web.
"This groundbreaking work defies genre classification: neither text nor pictures (dramatically crosshatched pencil illustrations and movie stills) can tell the story alone, and Selznick's ability to make readers feel as if they're watching a silent movie is complete genius."
"The Invention of Hugo Cabret." The Horn Book Magazine Jan.-Feb. 2008: 11. Literature Resource Center. Web.
Awards: Caldecott Winner
National Book Award Finalist
So You Want to Be President?
Synopsis: This informational book is filled with presidential facts and follies. With stats for the number of presidents born in log cabins and presidential ages this book is sure to strike the fancy of everyone with it's wacky illustrations and interesting facts.
Citation: St. George, Judith. So You Want to Be President? (2000). Illust. by David Small. New York: Philomel.
My thoughts: I thought this book was awesome. I loved the facts and the illustrations. Everything fit together so well. The engaging book is sure to lure even the most reluctant readers into picking up the book and diving in.
Library usage: Great for President's Day or Election time. Could read aloud parts for storytime or have a scavenger hunt of fun presidential facts for kids to do.
Review:
This lighthearted, often humorous roundup of anecdotes and trivia is cast as a handbook of helpful hints to aspiring presidential candidates. St. George (Sacagawea; Crazy Horse) points out that it might boost your odds of being elected if your name is James (the moniker of six former presidents) or if your place of birth was a humble dwelling ("You probably weren't born in a log cabin. That's too had. People are crazy about log-cabin Presidents. They elected eight"). She serves up diverse, occasionally tongue-in-cheek tidbits and spices the narrative with colorful quotes from her subjects. For instance, she notes that "Warren Harding was a handsome man, but he was one of our worst Presidents" due to his corrupt administration, and backs it up with one of his own quotes, "I am not fit for this office and never should have been here." Meanwhile, Small (The Gardener) shows Harding crowned king of a "Presidential Beauty Contest"; all the other presidents applaud him (except for a grimacing Nixon). The comical, caricatured artwork emphasizes some of the presidents' best known qualities and amplifies the playful tone of the text. For an illustration of family histories, Small depicts eight diminutive siblings crawling over a patient young George Washington; for another featuring pre-presidential occupations, Harry Truman stands at the cash register of his men's shop while Andrew Johnson (a former tailor) makes alterations on movie star Ronald Reagan's suit. The many clever, quirky asides may well send readers off on a presidential fact-finding mission--and spark many a discussion of additional anecdotes. A clever and engrossing approach to the men who have led America. Ages 7-up. (Aug.)
"SO YOU WANT TO BE PRESIDENT?" Publishers Weekly 17 July 2000: 193. Literature Resource Center. Web.
Award: Caldecott Winner, 2001
No comments:
Post a Comment