The final children’s books roundup for 2018 reflects a brilliant year. From the subtle to the over-the-top, the tear-jerking to the comic, it’s been a bumper crop – and 2019 shows early signs of being just as good.
In picture books, Valdemar’s Peas (Gecko) by Maria Jönsson is an adorably scruffy, pleasingly unexpected tale of mealtime battles and the unscrupulous use of younger siblings. Valdemar the little wolf must eat his peas before he can have ice-cream. Or can sister Lynn provide a way round the problem? Many a frazzled parent will empathise with Papa Wolf, conceding with an exhausted sigh.
From Nigerian publisher Cassava Republic comes Hair, It’s a Family Affair!, with author Mylo Freeman’s characteristically bold, colourful illustrations. It’s Macy’s turn to tell her class about her family – Grandma’s amazing afro, her baby sister’s soft, sweet hair, and Daddy, who doesn’t have any hair at all – in this cheerful, inclusive celebration.
Sweep by the poet Louise Greig (Egmont) is a gorgeous visual exploration of the development of a bad mood, as single fallen leaves combine into huge heaps, submerging everything good – then dwindling and departing bit by bit, leaving crisply “cleared air” behind. Júlia Sardà’s tatterdemalion leaves and bright balloons perfectly amplify Greig’s restrained but evocative text.
For five- to eight-year-olds, Sonam and the Silence (Allen & Unwin) by the Australian broadcaster and musician Eddie Ayres is a vivid, lyrical story with the heightened feel of a fable. In Taliban-ruled Kabul, young Sonam has no time for anything but work and compliance with the regime – until she hears the beautiful sound of an old man playing a rubab. But music is forbidden, and Sonam must defy her family’s fears to pursue it. Ronak Taher’s mixed-media images combine sombre greys and threatening darkness with flashes of bright, rebellious colour, such as a single pomegranate lingering on a tree.
There’s more consoling music in The Dog Who Lost His Bark (Walker), a warm, gentle collaboration between Irish children’s laureates Eoin Colfer and PJ Lynch. Oz, a puppy maltreated until he’s too frightened to bark, is lucky to be rescued by Patrick, a patient, music-loving boy; but when Patrick rejects Oz in an attempt to persuade his dog-allergic dad not to leave the family, fresh heartbreak ensues for both. Lynch’s soft pencil illustrations create a sense of quiet tenderness.
Dara Ó Briain’s Secret Science: The Amazing World Beyond Your Eyes (Scholastic), illustrated with squiggly charm by Dan Bramall, is fascinating, as well as very funny. Whether it’s exploring the Maillard reaction (not the mallard reaction, which is what happens if you give ducks toast instead of bread) or the effects of procrastination on the brain, its crazy mixture of fonts and facts will stick fast in the memory.
Fans of Jakob Wegelius’s strange and wonderful gorilla odyssey The Murderer’s Ape will be delighted by its prequel, The Legend of Sally Jones (Pushkin), translated by Peter Graves. A highly illustrated account of primate protagonist Sally’s origins, it has more of an oversized picture book or graphic novel feel than the previous novel; it’s both the perfect way in for those to whom a huge book seems intimidating, and witty enough to satisfy in its own right.
Another resourceful heroine appears in a new edition of Astrid Lindgren’s Ronja, the Robber’s Daughter, translated by Patricia Crampton and published by Oxford to tie in with the gorgeous Studio Ghibli TV adaptation. Katsuya Kondo’s soft sketches are interwoven with this bold, invigorating story of a robber chieftain’s only child: her love of the forest, despite its fearsome wild harpies and grey dwarfs, and her conflicting loyalties to Mattis, her doting father, and Birk, son of a rival chief, who is Ronja’s dearest friend.
The perfect antidote to Wikipedia skimming, the splendidly hefty Absolutely Everything! A History of Earth, Dinosaurs, Rulers, Robots and Other Things Too Numerous to Mention (What on Earth) by Christopher Lloyd, illustrated by Andy Forshaw, feels as compendious as an old-school encyclopedia and as engaging as the Horrible Histories books. Stuffed full of colour illustrations and photos, it will satisfy Guinness World Records fans while providing a broader, more contextualised sense of where weird, wonderful and outrageous facts might fit into the bigger picture.
For ages 12 and above, Costa-winner Linda Newbery revisits KM Peyton’s beloved Essex estate Flambards in the poignant, thoughtful The Key to Flambards (David Fickling), set in the present day. Grace Russell is adapting slowly to the loss of her leg in an accident and to her parents’ separation. When she and her mother move to Flambards for the summer, she doesn’t expect to become passionately involved with her family history, the wild richness of the landscape and the boys she meets – or to discover a new joy in riding. Newbery’s teenagers feel somewhat old-fashioned, but her sensitive portrayal of grief and recovery is superlative.
There’s grief, too, in Who Killed Christopher Goodman? (Walker), a slim novel by Allan Wolf that revisits an event from his own small town American adolescence. Eccentric, charismatic and kind, Chris Goodman is universally liked; when his body is found at the side of the road, it rocks the community to its roots. As six voices, including the killer’s, weave together their collective sense of responsibility and loss, Wolf’s book becomes something extraordinary – poetic, experimental and strange, full of stifling heat and painful, gradual catharsis.
Lastly, in Pulp (HarperCollins), Robin Talley provides some fascinating insights into the “lavender scare” of repressive 1950s America, and the constant scrutiny that ground down young gay women. Present-day senior Abby, struggling to deal with a recent break-up and her parents’ faltering marriage, decides to write a lesbian pulp novel of her own. In the mid-fifties, 18-year-old Janet discovers, via a lurid paperback, that her forbidden feelings are not unique…Two lives and two writers’ journeys intertwine as Abby and Janet adapt to their different challenging realities. Though there are some repetitious moments, this ambitious novel is startlingly original.
