Please, Louise

December 16, 2013
The Morrisons (The Tortoise or the Hare) don’t just champion the act of reading: they explain what it does. Reading is valuable, they explain, because it banishes fear. “Scary thoughts are your creation/ when you have no information.” Louise, an Asian girl, sets out for the library in a yellow rain slicker. The trip is scattered with threats: a strange man hunched over a harmonica, a deserted house with dark windows. The narrator pleads with Louise to think clearly instead of reacting reflexively: “Is that house really haunted? Or does it just need care?/ Why not imagine the joy that used to be there?” When Louise enters the library, its shelves open wide around her in an embrace. Strickland (White Water) paints a moving portrait of Louise in tight close-up, completely absorbed in reading. On the way home, the change in Louise’s attitude is reflected in what she sees. While it’s hard to fault the message that books can open minds and perspectives, the delivery suffers from a cajoling narrative tone and an overall roughness to the verse. Ages 4–8. Illustrator’s agent: Lori Nowicki, Painted Words.

February 15, 2014
A young girl sets out on a solitary walk to a surprise destination. With rain threatening, a little girl leaves home by herself wearing bright yellow boots and a slicker. The streets are filled with fearful sights and sounds--a barking dog, a darkened house, a junkyard and a statue of a bird of prey. But then light and shelter from the storm fill the pages as Louise enters a well-stocked library where "Imagination is an open door. / Step in here and let it soar." Louise comfortably stretches out on a rainbow-hued floor to read before walking home, passing the now-friendly dog and people sitting on the steps of the house, now shining brightly in the sun. She sits in front of her own house surrounded by books and then goes inside to settle herself in a cozy window seat to read. The Morrisons, mother and son, write in rhyming couplets with the message firmly hammered home: "[B]ooks can teach and please Louise." Adult readers may find this disconcerting: A child alone on dark and scary streets finds comfort solely from books (even library staff are nowhere to be seen). Strickland's watercolor-and-gouache paintings are delicate, detailed and beautiful. Louise is a lovely child and a poster girl for reading. Still, that there appear to be no caring adults in her world is troubling. An ode to reading that raises too many concerns. (Picture book. 4-7)

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March 1, 2014

K-Gr 3-Louise leaves the house on a gray, rainy day, walking past abandoned cars and barking dogs to the library, a warm and dry haven where her imagination can take flight. The concept behind this story is lovely; the execution, however, falls flat. The rhyming text is clunky and awkward and lacks an easily spoken cadence. Toward the end, the narrative changes jarringly from speaking to Louise to talking about Louise. The mixed-media illustrations are effective, especially as the palette changes when the dreary day gives way to sun, but they are not enough to compensate for the unwieldy verse.-Martha Link Yesowitch, Charlotte Mecklenburg Library, NC

Copyright 2014 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

February 15, 2014
Preschool-G Louise, pictured as a small girl wrapped in a raincoat and armed with an umbrella, enters what she considers a strange and scary world. But at the library, she finds shelter from the storm and safe worlds to explore. The authors' rhyming text, though reflective of a child's fears (junkyard monsters, dogs, neglected buildings), does not always flow naturally, but the message is loud and clear. This is a testament to the value of reading and the imagination as ways to understand feelings and the world. Strickland's illustrations bring Louise's world to life; the objects of fear, in dark colors and threatening profiles, dominate the pages until the world of the library embraces her. Off comes her hooded coat, the sun comes out, and she now dominates her environment. We even see a close-up of her face, totally absorbed in a book, a friendly dog by her side. A cozy way to address the subject of fearsand to get children to the library.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2014, American Library Association.)

November 2, 1992
From 1879 to 1898, the Woman's Commonwealth, a utopian community based on celibacy, economic independence and Christian religious conviction, flourished in Belton, Tex., where members ran boardinghouses and hotels; it then settled in Washington, D.C., from 1898 to 1912. In this scholarly study of interest primarily to historians, Kitch, director of women's studies at Ohio State, explores the story of the ``sanctificationists,'' as the women were known, through analysis of the 2400 pages of their personal letters--group membership peaked at 50 in 1880 and began to decline in the early 1900s, due to defections by the daughters of the original members. Founded by Martha McWhirter in about 1866 after a vision convinced her that celibacy was sanctified by God, the society challenged patriarchal structures. Due to its economic success and subsequent championing of women's suffrage, Kitch argues, the Commonwealth qualifies as a feminist organization. Photos not seen by PW.

July 1, 2014
"Scary thoughts are your creation / when you have no information." Most things in Louise's urban neighborhood scare her, until she discovers the library: "She can understand what she feels, / since books can teach and please Louise." Forced and labored rhymes deliver a heavy-handed (if noble) message meant to inspire children--but which will likely have the opposite effect. The mixed-media illustrations soften the sermonizing.

(Copyright 2014 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)