Review of the Day: Bow-Wow Bugs a Bug

Bow-Wow Bugs a Bug by Mark Newgarden and Megan Montague Cash. Harcourt Children's Books. $12.95.

Sometimes a book just falls into your lap without rhyme, reason, or explanation and you’re left gaping like a fish until someone’s able to tell you something about it. Well “Bow-Wow Bugs a Bug” fell into my lap and due to its very nature I’ve been left gaping for some time. I gotta say, this is one of the weirder creations to float down the river, and I’m torn between being utterly charmed by it and marching over to Harcourt Books to DEMAND the story of its creation. Basically, what we have here is softy Megan Montague Cash joining forces with Mark Newgarden to produce a picture book about a curious dog. Who is Mark Newgarden? Well, in a recent interview with MrSkin.com I learned that he’s an alt-comic mastermind with the book, “We All Die Alone,” already under his belt. He’s lived in a converted funeral parlor, has a great take on Tijuana Bibles, and once deconstructed the comic strip Nancy. The next thing you know he turns around and produces something called, “Bow-Wow Bugs a Bug.” An inconsistency? Not in the least. Though he’s curbed his style to the world of wordless picture book adventures, this title uses its misleading simplicity to lure the reader into a false sense of complacency. Then, BAM! It ratchets up the weirdness meter to 110%. With a clear sense of its artist’s comic-laden past, and a firm grounding in what makes a picture book “good,” Newgarden and Cash have produced the weirdest bit of kidlit fluff I’ve seen in a very long time. Their tongues are planted firmly in their cheeks and they know how to play for laughs by balancing out visual humor with sheer out-and-out ridiculousness. Impressive.

A single black dot makes a leap off a pure white page towards a sleeping terrier. The pup wakes up and begins his day only to find himself somewhat entranced by the insect in his presence. Without thinking much about it he proceeds to follow the bug around a single city block. Slowly the situation grows more and more surreal as Newgarden and Cash begin to play off of expected norms. When pup and bug meet their identical twins it’s a great excuse for a series of panels where they try to get the other to do something different. Things get curiouser still. Giant dogs follow tiny bugs. Hundreds of dogs follow hundreds of bugs. And then, in a kind of coup de grace, hundreds of gigantic bugs follow hundreds of tiny dogs. Exhausted and more than a touch weirded out, Bow-Wow heads for home where pup and insect can settle down for a good long sleep.

It’s not really fair when a reviewer is handed a book with a blurb like this on the back cover: “What an odd, sweet, surreal, and hilarious adventure from Newgarden and Cash. It’s what Crockett Johnson, Ernie Bushmiller, and Rod Serling might have come up with if they shared a bench at the doggie park. I love it!” Well thank you sooooooo much, Lane Smith. First of all, being that Newgarden’s a huge Bushmiller fan, I suspect Mr. Smith was being coy with his references. But the fact of the matter is that this nails the tone of the book perfectly. I’m jealous. I could never have paired these three artists together, and yet that’s exactly how the book feels. Reality is upended suddenly and regularly in this title and it’s a joy each and every time. I’ve tried to pinpoint the exact moment the book won me over, heart and soul, and I think it had to be when Bow-Wow runs into an enormous dog following an enormous bug. Still, there’s a subtlety to the illustrations in this book that rewards the careful reader. I’ve never seen a book so perfectly perform the old look–blink–look-again move. And when Bow-Wow’s face is reflected in the kaleidoscopic eyes of the lead bug, his oh-come-on-now expression (raised eyebrow and all) is priceless.

The problem with books that look this simple is that adult readers will often skim it once, assume there aren’t any noteworthy details, and put it down without a second glance. Kids, on the other hand, are bound to be rewarded time and time again whenever they re”read” certain sections. Did you notice that when Bow-Wow meets his virtual twin and his bug does the same, everything the dogs do the bugs do? If the dogs put on green cat masks, so too do the bugs. Balancing on balls while donning fezzes? So too do the bugs. The art in this book is fabulous and suggests a fun but twisted mentality. Now will someone please explain to me why it is that Garbage Pail Kids, that insane construct of the mid-1980s that, to any sane and rational mind, had NO redeeming qualities, managed to jump-start the careers of such artists as Art Spiegelman and Bow-Wow's own Mark Newgarden? You wouldn’t know it to look at it, but this book bears the weight of some serious alternative kid-fare.

Of course, the sheer simplicity of the title lends itself to a couple difficulties here and there. For one thing, forget trying to suck any authorial/illustrator information out of it. I had naturally assumed that Mark did the illustrations and Megan the plotting, but a quick glance at what passes for a publication page and you can see that this book was “designed by Megan Montague Cash.” So… so huh? We must assume that she is the artist here. There’s no sign of a title on the cover either. I appreciate the simplicity of the design, but this seems a bit silly. At the very least, mention who did what.

The wordless picture book is a peculiar beastie. They can serve as ways to get illiterate or struggling readers interested in the world of books and literature without scaring them off. How different is “Bow-Wow Bugs a Bug,” from the “Polo” adventures by Regis Faller, after all? Kids also often get assignments in school requiring that they find a wordless picture book and write a story about it for class. “Bow-Wow,” is a bit too simple for that particular assignment, but for anyone collecting picture books of the wordless variety, I won’t hesitate to recommend it in a heartbeat. There are only so many times you can hand someone an Anno or Lehman's “The Red Book” without feeling a bit drained.

Newgarden and Cash (sounds like an insurance company if you say it just right) have a business future together, no question. With its silent movie references, clean lines, and crisp storytelling, “Bow-Wow Bugs a Bug,” is a keeper. It’s fun and funny and bound to be overlooked unless you start telling your friends and neighbors about it pronto. I may find the design just a bit much here and there, but all in all this one’s memorable.

On shelves June 1, 2007.

Review of the Day: Alligator Boy

Alligator Boy by Cynthia Rylant, illustrated by Diane Goode. Harcourt, Inc. $16.00

I imagine that it must be the nicest thing in the world to have a collaborator with whom you’ve worked for twenty odd years or so. How comforting that must be. The pairing of author Cynthia Rylant and illustrator Diane Goode began long long ago when they first worked together to create “When I Was Young In the Mountains”. Badda bing, it wins a Caldecott Honor and the rest is history. I wasn’t aware that the two were still doing any shared projects, and then this lovely little book arrived on my desk. “Alligator Boy” is a small simple picture book that goes against expectations beautifully. If you happen to be in desperate need of a book that will delight your small children, boys and girls alike, but that falls on the understated side of the equation, I cannot recommend this story enough. Charming, charming, charming.

After taking a trip to a museum and seeing a life-sized stuffed alligator in all its reptilian glory, a young boy decides that becoming an alligator is his life’s goal. His aunt, who hears this wish over the phone, is happy to help the kid live his dream and sends him an easily worn alligator head and tail. Though his father is fine with the change, his mother worries about his health and a vet (the doctor wouldn’t come) is quickly dispatched. But as it turns out, there’s nothing wrong with the little alligator, so it’s off to school he goes. And wouldn’t you know it but it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Now he can do everything the other kids can, but he’s also adept at scaring away the school bully and rescuing dogs from dogcatchers. The last image in the book is of the little alligator, tuckered out at the end of a long day, sitting sleepily and happily on his loving mother’s lap.

Now when I read this story I full expected the boy to tire of his gatorial garb at some point in the proceedings so as to learn a rote lesson. Perhaps he’d find that people didn’t trust him as much or that he scared kittens. Then he’d go back to being a boy and we’d get some twist ending where he starts wearing a panda outfit on the last page. This is the standard procedure that a whole heckuva lot of picture books follow, and it’s deathly deadly dull. How much more interesting then to find that the boy wants to be an alligator, becomes one, and is then accepted by friends and family alike. The last image in this book is of the boy snuggled contentedly on his mother’s lap, seemingly without a care in the world. Now, I don’t like to read too much into a book, but this is a picture book that’s going to speak to a lot of people on a lot of different levels. For anyone who has ever felt that they were born in the wrong body and want to change their appearance drastically, this is the perfect gift of a book. This title also struck me as a subtle (and better illustrated) follow-up to Charlotte Zolotow’s, “William’s Doll”. Basically, it's about accepting someone for being what they want to be. Yet unlike those didactic children’s stories out there, this tale is sweet enough that the message (if indeed there is one at all) goes down so smoothly you won’t even realize you’ve learned it until a great deal of time has passed. Kudos to Ms. Rylant then for her good taste.

Of course, equal consideration/congrats/rose petals should be thrown at Ms. Diane Goode. Over the years Ms. Goode has pared down her style to its essential elements. In this story you’ve picture created with line on paper alongside watercolors and gouache. The color palette is a comfortable series of greens, blues, and serene (though certainly NOT pastel) shades and tones. As for the characters themselves, Goode places them in an abundant amount of white space. She knows how to show them off. To let them stand and pose and prance about without cluttering up the images. Yet for all this simplicity, she also conveys some very tender and dear emotions. Cleverly, the alligator head is able to show the emotions of the boy inside of it. And aside from his human hands and legs, you might begin to believe (as the kid himself undoubtedly does) that he really is an alligator incarnate. Now Ms. Goode chose to set this story in a time that never existed, which is rather interesting to look at. By the clothing, you might think that this story took place in the early 20th century (maybe the 30s). Heck, the bully in the book (who proves easy enough to frighten) wears a soft cabbie hat and blue suit. All the boys are in short pants, all the girls are in dresses, and the teacher is prone to a bow tie or two when he feels the yen. On the flip side, this is a fully multicultural books. The vet is black, the schoolmates are all sorts of ethnicities, and there’s even a girl in a wheelchair in one of the scenes. So while this is a time and place in world history that probably never happened, you’ll come to wish that it had.

Ah, but I did have one objection to this book and I’m afraid it deals with the choice to make this a rhyming text. It’s always a dangerous decision on any author’s part. Now by and large and for the most part Rylant does very well by her words. “His days were quite happy, his days were a joy . . . / What a good green life for an alligator boy.” That’s all well and good. Unfortunately, there are times when the rhymes don’t scan. “He found his dear dad and told him the story / of being a lizard, no longer a boy.” Now insofar as I can tell, that’s supposed to rhyme. The entire book is ABABAB. Um… this line doesn’t. Also there is the brief moment of awkwardness here and there. “She asked a good doctor to come and to see / this boy who could not a boy now be.” Doesn’t scan all that well and it’s doggone difficult to say properly aloud.

Quibbles aside, I have a very special place in my heart for this book. Really, it belongs in the same camp as “Imogene’s Antlers” by David Small. By sheer coincidence, it also is coming out in the same year as Emily Jenkins’, “Daffodil, Crocodile”, about a little girl who dresses up in a crocodile head to distinguish herself from her sisters. But where “Daffodil, Crocodile” is madcap and crazed, “Alligator Boy” is small and quiet and supremely sublime. A fantastic book for one-on-one sharing and a great story for any kid who has ever wished to take their dressing up to an entirely different level.

On shelves June 1, 2007