Yes, A. M. Juster has written a book for children, but fans of his poetry need not worry that he’s abandoned them. The qualities that make his twelve books of translations and original poetry such a pleasure to read work wonders in this new endeavor. His clarity of expression, his clear-eyed focus on his subject, his cadenced language and his aptitude for finding the perfect rhyme, the one that says precisely what it needs to say without calling attention to itself, make this sea-adventure for young children read like an newly-discovered work of Robert Louis Stevenson.
Grant Silverstein’s illustrations, in black and white except for the cover, work in a similar manner, each squiggle and script-like shading of sea-foam or seaweed suggesting tentacles or claws, either real or imagined. Every bit of artistry in this book serves to tell the story.
Girlatee is the story of a young manatee (the “girlatee”) who becomes separated from her parents by a reckless man on a speedboat. Author and illustrator have both hit the sweet spot: this tale of adventure is neither too tame nor too scary. The look on my five-year-old granddaughter’s face when Girlatee was reunited with her family was one of sheer joy—not mere relief. When we got to “The End,” she asked, “Are there any more stories?” She was eager to read the book a second time the following day, after which she dictated her first ” book report”:
It’s about manatees and octupi, fishes, cranky crabs, mummatees, daddytees, and sweetytees. And there were two fishes, and there was a man, and the girlatee got on shore and it was very hot for her, and too sandy, and no water — just too hot for her. The sun was too hot, and three friends helped her, and officers came and helped her into the ocean. And then the rainbow came. And then she swam back to her mom and Dad and they were happy ever after.
Note Mae’s creative misreading, or “mishearing,” of the book I read aloud to her. “Sweetytee” is very good. As for the rainbow, well, judge for yourself. Except for the cover, the illustrations are in black and white! Clearly, this young reader was taken in by the narrative.
I’m going to credit Juster’s metric verse for working that sorcery, while acknowledging that this young listener is particularly susceptible to the charms of rhythm and form. Here she is at The Christmas Revels in Boston, earlier this month:
