The Octopus Scientists: Exploring
the Mind of a Mollusk. By Sy Montgomery. Photographs by Keith Ellenbogen.
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. $18.99.
Chu #3: Chu’s Day at the Beach.
By Nail Gaiman. Illustrated by Adam Rex. Harper. $17.99.
In the Waves. By Lennon and
Maisy Stella. Illustrated by Steve Björkman.
Harper. $17.99.
Florabelle. By Sasha Quinton.
Illustrated by Brigette Barrager with photographs by Michel Tcherevkoff. Harper.
$15.99.
Every book in the
“:Scientists in the Field” series is an adventure, but The Octopus Scientists is a stranger one than most. Octopuses –
this and “octopods” are the correct plurals, with the book explaining why
“octopi” is not right – are bizarre and thoroughly amazing creatures:
blue-blooded, with three hearts and the ability to taste through their skin and
tentacles. There are more than 250 types, some only half an inch long and some
growing to 20 feet. They are boneless but have a super-brainy look thanks to
their bulging mantle – which, however, is not their head: it contains their
gills, stomach, hearts and other organs. Yet octopuses are brainy, solving problems with surprising speed and in different
ways, according to their individual personalities. How do we know all this? The
knowledge comes from scientists such as Jennifer Mather, leader of the team
whose explorations are the subject of Sy Montgomery’s fascinating book. Marvelous
photographs by Keith Ellenbogen bring young readers into the waters where
Mather and her fellow scientists search for octopuses – no small feat, since
these mollusks are absolutely brilliant at camouflage, changing not only their
color but also their shape. One octopus studied at an aquarium became so eager
to eat a crab offered inside a box – in an experiment designed to find out
whether the octopus could figure out how to unlock the box – that instead of
fussing with the lock, the octopus squeezed its entire body through a tiny hole
and ended up in a perfect cube shape. Stories about friendship, or at least
communication, between humans and octopuses, are offered here, along with absolutely
amazing photos of the mollusks watching the scientists or simply going about
their daily lives in ways so unusual that octopuses seem to live on another
planet, or at the very least another plane of existence. Yet the whole point of
The Octopus Scientists is that these
strange and amazing creatures are not
otherworldly: they live right here on Earth, in the oceans, and their health
and that of the waters where they live are inextricably intertwined. The
realism of this book, as of others in this series, lies not only in its
portrayal of real scientists doing real work, but also in the real issues and
confusions with which scientists live and without which science could not
advance. “As is often the case in science, our field expedition generated more
questions than answers,” Montgomery explains – and that is just what makes
science so fascinating: it is a never-ending quest of exploration, whether of a
mollusk’s mind or of any other topic.
Young readers looking for
something lighter, much lighter, have
many new water-oriented books from which to choose: when winter gives way to
spring, publishers start anticipating summer and bringing out books with a
distinct beach focus. There is, for example, Neil Gaiman’s third book about Chu
the super-sneezy panda, Chu’s Day at the
Beach. There is even an octopus here, but it is a thoroughly humanized one
whose mantle (typically for a children’s book) is its head – and whose job is selling ice cream to the monkeys,
tortoises, snakes and other beach visitors shown charmingly in Adam Rex’s
illustrations. While a frog sunbathes and a crab reads a book, Chu and his
parents enjoy being on the sand and in the water – until Chu produces one of
his hurricane-like sneezes, which is so powerful that it parts the waves quite
as effectively as Moses parted the Red Sea. Unfortunately, this particular
parting of the waves has unintended consequences for ocean life, leaving sea creatures
unable to swim from one place to another – as a whale comments, “With the sea
broken, I cannot go home.” Not even the friendly greeting that Chu gets from a
merpanda can fix things – Chu simply must
sneeze again and, as the octopus ice-cream seller says, “put this back the way
it was.” But for once, Chu cannot
sneeze, not even when a seagull tickles his nose with a feather or when the
little panda takes a drink from a soda whose bubbles go up his nose. It takes a
smart suggestion from a helpful snail to get Chu to do something that, yes,
results in another tornado-force sneeze – one that fixes the ocean very nicely
but, as readers will see, does not quite put everything “back just as it was
before,” even though Chu says that is
what it does. Still, everything ends happily, with Chu even giving an ice-cream
cone to a merpanda who says she sometimes sneezes, too (although presumably not
quite as forcefully as Chu does). Gently amusing and quietly absurd, Chu’s Day at the Beach is a lovely
summer outing for the little panda’s many fans.
A beach day is also in
store, or seems to be, for Lennon and Maisy Stella of the TV show Nashville. The two cannot wait to be In the Waves, but they are taking a long time to get ready in a book based
on a song they wrote with MaryLynne Stella and Carolyn Dawn Johnson. With Mama
repeatedly urging the girls to get a move on, the two spend lots of time
“getting all ready for some sister fun,” imagining riding a dolphin, feeding a peanut-butter-and-jelly
sandwich to a friendly shark, diving for sunken treasure, building a sand
castle, getting a lift from a cooperative whale, and much more. Eventually,
Mama “says she’s tired of waiting/ So we better get in,” and so the girls
finally do just that – but not into the car to go to the beach. It turns out
that the place they are heading is the bathtub, where they have just as great a
time as they would at the beach, thanks to their imagination and the fact that
they are “two sisters who pretend a lot.” Enlivened by plenty of super-upbeat
Steve Björkman illustrations,
this imagination celebration is a great way for kids to take a mini-vacation
while staying at home, enjoying their “staycation” just as much as they would
an actual trip to the beach. Or almost
as much, anyway.
In Florabelle, a little girl does get to go to the beach, but if it
weren’t for her imagination, the trip
would be a big letdown. Florabelle is a dreamer all the day, every day, in
every way, to such a point that she does not listen very well and is not always
aware of what is happening in the world around her. She looks at her reflection
in a glass door and sees herself as a ballerina – becoming too distracted to
sit at the table for breakfast. She looks in the mirror of an armoire and sees
herself as a fairy princess – forgetting that this is a school day and her
sister is warning her that she is going to be late again. Her enjoyment and antics go too far when she plays Rodeo
Queen at dinnertime, accidentally pulling the tablecloth and all the things on
it onto the floor. There will be no beach trip the next day if Florabelle does
not listen, her parents say, and the beach is one of Florabelle’s many dreams –
a big one – so she buckles down and becomes “very S-E-R-I-O-U-S. Just like her
family.” For the time being. So everyone does get to head for the beach after
all – but Florabelle finds major disappointment there, because the sea looks
deep and dark and “very, very undreamy!”
Indeed, Brigette Barrager’s illustration here shows all sorts of
unpleasant-looking (but not too
scary) creatures in the water, just waiting for Florabelle to come in. The very
next page shows the reality of Florabelle’s family happily having fun in the
warm, pleasant water, despite the tentacles and other strangenesses that
Florabelle imagines all around them. Sasha Quinton has Florabelle stay on the
sand, grumpy and unhappy, until the little girl gets another of her imaginative
ideas: how would the sea seem if she were a mermaid? That does it: Florabelle jumps into the water and has a great time,
imagining herself amid all sorts of real and impossible sea creatures
(including some whose illustrations nicely incorporate flower photos by Michel
Tcherevkoff). It turns out to be a great beach trip after all, ending with
Florabelle back home in bed, drifting off to sleep amid a sea of imaginatively
flowery, watery, dress-up, magical dreams – a perfect end to a perfect day.
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