Amazing Watercolor Fish / El asombroso pez acuarela

author: Carolyn Dee Flores

illustrator: Carolyn Dee Flores

translator: Carmen Tafolla 

Piñata Books / Arte Público Press

2018 

preschool-up

As a lonely pet goldfish imagines the world outside of her tiny fishbowl, she encounters another fish in a bowl on the other side of a wall of books that separates them. Communicating with each other through fantasy and colors, they begin to see just what their worlds might look like without the barriers. 

Each page—consisting of vibrant and expanding visual art and partnering poetic storytelling in English and Spanish—contains hints that, when youngsters perceive them, add to the significance of the tale. 

Flores’s art—on a palette that begins with velvety-textured pencil drawings of a sad goldfish and her limited fishbowl environment and, page by page, expands to include increasingly layered translucent watercolors that give them more saturation—reflects the many colors and textures of the outside world the goldfish imagines and fills in with her own brush and watercolor paints—a world she can’t see behind the wall of books. At the same time, another lonely pet fish on the other side uses his brush and palette to communicate with her across the seemingly insurmountable barrier of books which, towards the middle, are beginning to fall open. And towards the end, the books have toppled and the two fishes are swimming together in one bowl. 

Youngsters might recognize that the pencil drawings represent the drab realities of the fish and their separate environments, and, as the translucent colors are layered on, their worlds become bigger and more imaginative and joyous—and maybe, their lives are expanding as well. Younger listeners may not immediately be able to interpret some of the visual symbolism here—or they might after a few back-and-forth page turns: the table top might be a continent (far off are tiny images of the Egyptian pyramids and a sailing ship), the toppling books might be continental divides or national barriers or The Wall, the water gushing out of the open door might be the fishes’ expanding world—the one that they had imagined and is now real.

Both Flores’ English and Tafolla’s Spanish rhyming poetry reflect their own and each other’s playfulness with the story, words and syntax, and together, present a rare cultural and linguistic collaboration. They have created two different and compatible ways of looking at the world; two kinds of poems that work beautifully and bounce off the art. 

Indeed, to read the English and Spanish versions alongside each other—the open, uncomplicated, rhyming English version and the “gran fantasía dramática” of the rhyming Spanish version—is a treat for hablantes, for English-speakers, and for bilingual readers alike. 

The Amazing Watercolor Fish / El asombroso pez acuarela is a gentle, powerful statement of acceptance, togetherness and friendship. Without hyperbole, without polemic—but with lots of symbolism—Flores’ and Tafolla’s loving and lovely story suggests the importance of jumping the walls in these challenging times. 

*Highly recommended for all home, classroom and library collections.

—Beverly Slapin

(published 9/30/18)

Surprise for Teresita / Una sorpresa para Teresita

author: Virginia Sánchez-Korrol 

illustrator: Carolyn Dee Flores 

translator: Gabriela Baeza Ventura 

Piñata Books / Arte Público Press, 2016

grades 1-4 

Puerto Rican

On the cover is a Nuyorican child named Teresita. Her head is slightly thrown back and she is laughing. Her laugh is so big that young readers can see the mixture of both primary and permanent teeth. Her outfit is a rainbow. The piragua in her hands is a rainbow. The background is a rainbow. And—Teresita is a rainbow.

Today is Teresita’s seventh birthday. She’s a big girl now—she can dress herself, help her mamá water the plants on the fire escape, lead her friends in “Red light, green light, 1, 2, 3,” and be trusted to stay in front of their building. But as the day goes on and she watches for Tío Ramón, she begins to worry that the barrio’s beloved vendedor de piraguas has forgotten her birthday surprise. (Young readers may intuit that Mamá knows what surprise Tío Ramón has for Teresita, but no one’s letting on.)

Flores’ intense, textured art—deep, rich oils on raw cardboard with an overlay of Liquin—is perfect. Her technique, she told me, is painstaking and time-consuming.

“I add one drop of paint directly from the tube,” she said, “and dip my brush into Liquin, mixing my colors right on the canvas. After each drop, I clean my brush, and start all over again.” The Liquin, she said, is a blender that also acts as a dryer. So, while the oil seeps into the cardboard and can take months to dry, the surface dries relatively quickly.

It’s the representation of these joyous and exuberant young Nuyorican children of the rainbow—and the neighborhood that their families have transformed into a “tropical island” whose colors are superimposed on the brick, stonework and facing of 19^th Century brownstones—that appears to have fired Flores’s imagination and her bright palette of piragua colors that illuminates this sweet story.

A word about illustrating skin tones: Most of the time, the perceived darkness or lightness of our skin is determined by whether we’re in the shade or in the light. In addition, the insides of our arms and hands, for instance, are lighter than the outsides. Flores beautifully captures this phenomenon in the children and adults here, especially with Tío Ramón, who—since he moves around a lot in this story—appears darker on some pages and lighter on others. I don’t know any other children’s book illustrator who consistently reflects this kind of reality.

Baeza’s colloquial Puerto Rican Spanish translation is rhythmic and appealing. She uses, for instance, “jugo de china” rather than “jugo de naranja” for orange juice because, in Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo, oranges are called “chinas.” And hablantes will enjoy hanging out with Teresita and her friends as they jump “la doble soga” and “agua sube—agua baja” (“Double Dutch” and “High water—Low water"). Baeza also used a single term in English followed by the Spanish—“Teresita…fue a la ventana que abría el fire escape o salida de incendio”—to introduce a concept that a lot of kids might not fully understand.

She told me that when she works on translation, she takes care to create something that sounds natural to native speakers. For example, she said, certain grammatical constructions in English may not have corresponding structures in Spanish, so when they are translated word for word or even phrase for phrase, the result sounds awkward in Spanish. She said that her translation and editing process always includes reading the text out loud to herself and a translation committee, and working closely with the author to select the terms that best respect the characters and communities portrayed in the books.

To me, when Baeza translates, she centers hablantes who are reading the Spanish version. This is different and more effective—for both Spanish and English readers—than translating for English readers only, which is more often the case in “bilingual” children’s books.

Unlike too many other “multicultural” stories for children, readers here will not find any belabored expositions of language, food or music. Rather, author, illustrator and translator have seamlessly woven together the elements of a warm story of family, friends and community, where Nuyorican children of the rainbow find joy in each other’s company and little things—like hugs from loving parents, like running through the spray of an opened fire hydrant in the summertime, like jumping rope with friends, like waiting for the piraguas vendor and choosing which color and flavor of ice cone to buy—and where a child’s only worry is what will be her birthday surprise. (Spoiler Alert: It’s alive, it’s very cute, it has a green-and-white collar just like Tío Ramón’s piraguas cart, and its name is Piragua.)

Teresita is a real little girl in this sweet little story with excellent Spanish translation and luminous art; and everything about it is real. A Surprise for Teresita / Una sorpresa para Teresita is highly recommended.

—Beverly Slapin

(published 10/29/16)

Míl gracias to Carolyn Dee Flores and Gabriela Baeza Ventura.

Canta, Rana, Canta / Sing, Froggie, Sing

author: Carolyn Dee Flores 

illustrator: Carolyn Dee Flores

translator: Natalia Rosales-Yeomans 

Piñata Books / Arte Público Press, 2013 

preschool-up 

Mexican

In a gentle, loving reworking of a traditional Mexican children’s song heard all over Latin America, an iconic, gesticulating Froggie gathers everyone together to sing. In Spanish followed by an English translation, the cumulative song begins with Froggie’s being hushed by a fly, who is hushed by a spider, who is hushed by a mouse; in each verse, a larger insect, animal—or human—arrives to hush the one before. But unlike the creepy and misogynistic “Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly,” this song’s outcome is joyful and unifying.

The large, easy-to-read print is variously black or white, and back matter includes the full lyrics in Spanish and English, with guitar chords and a note about the song’s tradition.

In the Spanish, the next-to-last line in each stanza ends with “se puso a” and a verb ending in “ar,” so as to rhyme with “lo” or “la” followed by “hizo callar”—“shushed him (or her) up.” In the English, the next-to-last line in each stanza ends with “out loud,” and rhymes well enough with “hushed his (or her) mouth.” Since the English translation keeps the rhythm and rhyme of the Spanish, this scheme works well for both young hablantes and English-speakers.

Flores’s art—rendered on a cool palette of mostly Froggie-friendly “water” colors of aquas, greens and blues—uses Prismacolor pencil for intense pigment and core-opened Verithin pencil for smooth, delicate outlines. Her design, on large, double-page spreads, brings Froggie together with hyper-expressively drawn insects and animals balanced by photo-realistic impressions of Mamá, Papá, Abuela and Bebé. As Froggie appears on most of the illustrations, happily conducting the multi-species chorus of her opera, youngest listeners and singers will readily suspend any disbelief they may have had.

While I was momentarily annoyed at the spread in which Papá, holding a cell phone, is shushing Mamá while she’s singing to their crying Bebé, the next page made me laugh. Here, Papá, apparently having been handed Bebé—along with Mamá’s unseen and unspoken reply: “Pues, you take him!”—is spread out on a bench, fast asleep and loudly snoring, his arm draped around Bebé—and Abuela is shushing him up. (This adorable scene of both Papá and Bebé, wearing similar stylish khaki-and-blue outfits, while Abuela shushes and Rana happily snores nearby is, as a certain credit card adman intones—“priceless.”)

The other versions I’ve seen of this traditional song are unimaginative, not to mention mean, violent and ugly, and often contain stereotypical images of Mexican people. Here, Flores and Rosales-Yeomans have gifted us with a “new” tradition for our children: a fun cumulative song unified by an enthusiastic Froggie, surrounding herself with insects and animals, big and small—including humans—who just love to sing. On the next-to-last pages, Papá sings next to Mamá, who holds a newly awake, groggy Bebé, who watches as Froggie, sitting on a lily pad and joined by Abuela and the dog, calls out to everyone: “¡Comienza de nuevo!”

Youngest children will love this song’s quick-paced memory challenge, the race to identify the insects and animals, and even a quick “¿Dónde está Ranita?” But besides the fun and perhaps more importantly, Flores, Rosales-Yeomans and Arte Público have given us mirrors in which Raza children and families can see themselves in community and in the world. Canta, Rana, Canta / Sing, Froggie, Sing is highly recommended.

—Beverly Slapin

(published 11/26/15)

Dale, Dale, Dale: Una fiesta de números / Hit It, Hit It, Hit It: A Fiesta of Numbers

author: René,Saldaña Jr. 

illustrator: Carolyn Dee Flores

Piñata Books / Arte Público Press, 2014 

preschool-grade 2 

Mexican American

“Dale, Dale, Dale” (“Hit It, Hit It, Hit It”), the traditional piñata-breaking song that Mexican and Mexican American children sing during birthday parties and other celebrations, is the focus of this endearing bilingual counting book.

As excited seven-year-old Mateo, with the help of his parents, prepares the decorations for his birthday fiesta, young readers count the party giveaways. First, there’s una piñata llena de dulces (one piñata filled with candy). There are also cuatro cajas llenas de regalitos (four boxes filled with little gifts), cinco máscaras de la lucha libre (five lucha libre masks), seis trompos (six tops), siete botellitas de burbujas (seven little bottles with bubbles), ocho bolsitas llenas de canicas (eight little bags filled with marbles), nueve carritos (nine little cars) and diez guitarritas (ten little guitars). When Mateo’s 11 cousins arrive, they happily pick up their gifts, play music, take photos, eat cake, and—as the birthday boy takes the first swing at the piñata—sing, “Dale, Dale, Dale.”

Flores’ full-spread illustrations are rendered in Prismacolor colored pencil and most of the images—decorations, presents, toys, birthday cake, and piñata, of course—are on a bright, richly saturated palette of reds, greens, blues, purples and yellows. These are artfully balanced by sharply lined photorealistic images of Mateo, his parents, his cousins—and his puppy. My favorite spread is that of Mateo trying on five lucha libre masks. With all his primos at the party, I hope Mateo gives one of the masks to the exuberant prima in the pink skirt. She definitely looks like she has luchadora potential!

On the pages, idiomatic Spanish precedes the natural English text. Some of the English, especially the song, is an interpretation rather than a direct translation; so both young hablantes and English speakers can go back and forth and practice some of each other’s language.

Dale, Dale, Dale, a festive party celebration in minimal text perfectly paired with vibrant, colorful art, is bright, fun and engaging, and is highly recommended. 

—Beverly Slapin

(published 11/19/15)