11/21/2022

DeRoche’s delightful followup to The Ballad of Huck & Miguel, which retold nothing less than Huckleberry Finn, begins with a verse warning that could come from Twain’s time: “If your moral character is flimsy // Or your wit be rather slow, // Oh dare not read these tales of whimsy // For often do they end in woe.” What follows is a witty, fantastical collection of poems, brilliantly illustrated by print-maker Daniel Gonzalez, that display an emphatic admiration for the rebellious, unpredictable, zany, and absurd corners of humanity and art.

Tales of Whimsy, Verses of Woe features lyrical, ironic, subversive, and gently gruesome stories about heroes, monsters, wizards, and more, including a girl whose head explodes from an excess of homework, a dethroned punk rock king, a beast in a cave who is at peace with being “hairy, happy, and increasingly fat,” and a beast-sympathizer knight. Some feature bite-sized, irreverent stanzas, like in “Not for Naught?” “Not for naught did I struggle these rhymes to dispense, // But in vain were my efforts to have them make sense.” Others, like “The Road Well Traveled,” an allusive reversal of Frost’s famous lyric, reach toward a more substantial thematic depth. As a whole, DeRoche’s selection of poems subvert conventions and assumptions in a way children can easily access and apprehend. By poking fun, the poems also poke at the truth.

Alone, DeRoche’s poems would be funny and engaging, but Gonzalez’s illustrations elevate the reader's experience to one of enchantment. The poet-artist duo is expertly synchronized, and Gonzalez’s print-making illustration style has an almost locomotive effect. Even the stationary objects are mobile; the “chair made of cod” writhes and squirms, and the “mudshake by Mikey” percolates with dirt creatures. Amusing, campy, gorgeously illustrated, and generously preposterous, DeRoche’s collection is a worthy addition to any middle-schooler’s bookshelf.

Takeaway: A wacky, fantastical collection of lyrical poems that will entertain children and adults alike.

Great for fans of: Shel Silverstein, Lemony Snicket.

Production grades Cover: A Design and typography: A Illustrations: A Editing: A Marketing copy: A

Clever and witty, with charming illustrations. Makes me nostalgic for Shel Silverstein and Edward

Gorey."

––Katy Towell, author of Skary Childrin and the Carousel of Sorrow

"Like Ogden Nash or Shel Silverstein before him, Tim DeRoche delivers a book of subversive, tall-

tale poetry that will delight children and their grownups, especially those ready to squirm free of the

confines of adult logic."

––Aaron Becker, Caldecott Honoree and author/illustrator of the Journey series

Marshmallow cars! Mudshakes with hollandaise sauce! Airborne ungulates! A fun, fantastical

collection—chock full of creative wordplay, memorable characters, and wild scenarios.”

––Calef Brown, NYT bestselling author of Polkabats and Octopus Slacks

12/16/2022

K-Gr 3—This collection of poems trumpets itself, via a spoof Newbery-style book award medallion on the cover, as "the very best in highfalutin nonsense"—a grandiose claim that falls apart under the slightest scrutiny. The verses are accompanied by droll line art recalling the loose energy of Shel Silverstein drawings. Unfortunately, the poems themselves are by turns forced, grating, and sophomoric. DeRoche delivers on neither the whimsy nor the woe promised in his title: the self-conscious attempts at fanciful humor ("I suppose it's silly to consider/ An ancient castle made of kitty litter") come off as cloying and strained, and the few superficial moments of dark subject matter are undercut by the slipshod writing. Stanza after stanza features contorted syntax ("So off to the local store did she run./ A doubt in her mind? There was none"), and baffling asides ("I'll be a fish of the people—and not a traitor—/ When I'm devoured by a legislator"), all in pursuit of painfully simplistic rhymes. The rhythm shudders and hiccups with emphasis shoved carelessly onto unstressed beats; lines jam-packed with far too many syllables ("All the cars, her bike, and the thick morning fog—/ All of them greener than a Tanzanian tree frog") make read-alouds an exasperating chore. Time and again, a poem ends mid-thought or on a bizarre non sequitur ("I enrolled in classes to become an exterminator,/ Then opened a small shop just north of Decatur"). As a footnote to one entry, DeRoche writes, "Not for naught did I struggle these rhymes to dispense,/ But in vain were my efforts to have them make sense." Quite. VERDICT The quirky illustrations cannot save this clumsily written collection. Stick with Silverstein.—Jonah Dragan

★ 2022-11-09
This illustrated collection of verse indulges in fairy-tale absurdity and is sufficiently zany to have children and adults squealing with glee.

This book’s cover reveals that the work is the recipient of a “Baldersquash Medal,” which honors the “very best in high-falutin nonsense.” The decidedly suspect award is later explained as one that is delivered to “lucky writers” as a gold coin clasped in a chicken’s beak. Such tall tales and tomfoolery offer a mere taste of the eccentric brilliance to follow. In these pages, readers encounter Mary Melissa Miranda McGurk, who is “uncommonly fond of homework”—she loves learning so much that her rapidly expanding head literally explodes with knowledge. Readers are also introduced to Salmon Delicious, a fish so ambitious he wishes to be consumed by no one but a king. Other poems, like “The One-Man Band,” express delight in bodily noises, declaring: “Sneezing, too, is quite a sound / And glorious fun to boot. / But farting is my favorite noise: / There’s nothing like a toot.” In contrast, the closing poem, “My Father To Save,” is the disarmingly poignant tale of a prince sent to slay a good-hearted beast. DeRoche’s writing is clever, silly fun. In poems like “The Bear in the Boat,” the dependence on rhyming couplets enthrallingly determines the narrative’s direction. For instance, “He grabbed the tail / Of a whale, / Who gave him a hand / To the land.” Soon, readers will predict that the only thing on which a bear can spend his “hard-earned money” is, of course, “honey.” Elsewhere, the only job that can “generate coin” is found in “Des Moines.” This playful approach found throughout is delightful, but the poet can also be hilariously deadpan: “Over there at the computer / Sits my sister, Monica. / Live music doesn’t suit her; / She produces electronica.” González’s thoughtful illustrations display a Victorian elegance reminiscent of Thackery’s Rose and the Ringand, on other occasions, exhibit some of the scratchy, more contemporary eccentricity of Quentin Blake. Either way, González’s art complements the wackiness of DeRoche’s poetry with a subtle beauty. A rare work of pure, unbridled fun, this volume may prove the perfect antidote for the seriousness of modern life.

Joyous poems; supremely worthy of a Baldersquash Medal, regardless of whether or not it exists.