Anton Van Hertbruggen's beautiful, arresting illustrations depict Nino's loneliness with a striking intensity; his dusky palette of dark greens, rusty reds and mustard yellows, a landscape dotted with A-frame cabins and a wood-paneled station wagon impart a vintage feel…[The Dog That Nino Didn't Have ] is a perceptive and moving exploration of childhood yearning.
The New York Times Book Review - Margo Rabb
★ 08/10/2015 In a woodland landscape of shaggy trees, paneled station wagons, and A-frame cabins, a boy named Nino pines for his absent father, a pilot, and invents a pet dog for companionship and comfort: “The dog that Nino didn’t have liked tears. It loved the taste of salty water.” Newcomer Van Hertbruggen envisions the dog as both scruffy and see-through, and the ochers, rusty reds, and avocado greens of his expansive lakeside scenes evoke a 1970s childhood of unsupervised exploration and play; tokens of distant lands—masks, feathers, postcards—dot the pages, perhaps procured by Nino’s father. Then the boy gets a real dog: “The dog that Nino has now is soft. And sweet.... And everyone can see it.” Yet Nino, missing the presence of invented animals, goes on to conjure up a “zebra that he’s never seen,” an “imaginary giraffe,” a “not-hippopotamus,” and more: “Nino doesn’t have any of them! Not a single one!” Through playful negatives and sumptuous illustrations van de Vendel and Van Hertbruggen suggest that imagination can fill the void where melancholy and longing live, coexisting with realities beyond one’s control. Ages 4–8. (Oct.)
School Library Journal "Compelling and inviting. . . . This brief introduction to a child with a vivid imagination and a penchant for play challenges readers to search for pictorial clues that will enhance the story and make it more enjoyable."New York Times Book Review "Beautiful, arresting illustrations depict Nino's loneliness with a striking intensity. . . . A perceptive and moving exploration of childhood yearning."Kirkus Reviews "A sensitive reminder that imagination can provide comfort, though not in unlimited quantity."Publishers Weekly (Starred Review) "Through playful negatives and sumptuous illustrations van de Vendel and Van Hertbruggen suggest that imagination can fill the void where melancholy and longing live, coexisting with realities beyond one's control."The Wall Street Journal "The aching hunger for an absent father provides the emotional propulsion in [this] resonant book for young readers. . . . [an] unusual tribute to the consolations of imagination."Booklist , starred, splash-page review "There are plenty of picture books about finding imaginary friends, loving imaginary friends, even wistful books about letting go of imaginary friends. But few have plumbed the depths of loneliness and emotional complexity the way Van de Vendel and Van Hertbruggen do in their stunning, pithy picture book. . . . Van de Vendel's simple lines evoke a childlike logic about imagination and friendship that's well-matched by Van Hertbruggen's utterly gorgeous artwork. . . . With such gaze–worthy art, it's hard not to pore over each scene, and given the depth of detail, those long looks are rewarding. More rewarding still is the gentle, subtle, and nonjudgmental presentation of tricky feelings that will be familiar to many young readers, as well as the jubilant discovery of the joyful, comforting power of imagination."Boston Globe "The Dog That Nino Didn't Have is moving and unexpectedly beautiful. First there's the voice, full of negatives, which hews pretty closely, though not cloyingly, to the rhythms of child–speak. And then there's the mood, which lifts or shifts when Nino gets a real dog for his birthday. . . . But this is not a story about the triumph of the real over the imagined. Nino's dream life of animals swells in the final turn, cracking open his world and remaining true to the book's fantastic heart."
11/01/2015 Gr 1–3—This attractive oversize picture book, originally published in Belgium in 2013, has been translated from Flemish into simply stated, clipped English text with a distinctly foreign feel that depends heavily upon the accompanying artwork for clarification. For example, it opens, "Nino had a dog that he didn't have. Yes, he had that dog. Even though he didn't have it." It's the story of a young boy whose fearless little imaginary dog, drawn in fine ink pen for a see-through appearance, chases squirrels, dives straight into the deep water from Nino's rowboat, and licks salty tears from the child's face when he hears his dad's voice on the phone "from a country far, far away." Then Nino gets a real dog for his birthday. This canine that everyone can see "runs after squirrels in the woods," likes digging in the sand," and "is scared of Great-Grandma." Van Hertbruggen has filled his earth-and green-toned illustrations with angles and points—tall, spiky pines; sharply angled retro station wagon and carport; and small A-frame among a cluster of vacation homes—on a beach-and-dune-surrounded lake in a park where Nino and his mom have come for a summer holiday. Simple lines and patterns in indoor architecture, furniture and rugs, and exotic prints of imaginary giraffes, zebras, flamingos, and others are compelling and inviting. VERDICT This brief introduction to a child with a vivid imagination and a penchant for play challenges readers to search for pictorial clues that will enhance the story and make it more enjoyable.—Susan Scheps, formerly at Shaker Public Library, OH
2015-07-27 Nino and his imaginary dog are inseparable companions—until a tangible pet comes along. "Nino had a dog that he didn't have," van de Vendel writes. A dog that chases squirrels and jumps into Nino's great-grandma's lap, listens to phone calls from a faraway parent, and licks up saltwater tears. The illustrations depict a rumpled-looking lad roaming through a blended setting of pine woodlands, muddy yards, and rustic interiors hung with mementoes of far-off places with a dog visible as an unfilled outline. A glance at them will quickly clue in children who might be confused by the narrative conceit. But the diaphanous dog disappears one day when another dog arrives: it's "soft. And sweet. And obedient. And naughty. And small. And everyone can see it." This dog is afraid of Great-Grandma and can't listen on the phone. But it's all good, because Nino suddenly realizes that along with the much-loved dog that he does have, he can still have one, or many, that he doesn't—and other creatures too, from a make-believe bear to a "not-hippopotamus." Still, even surrounded by his selectively invisible menagerie, he remains a solitary figure, and his grave, lonely expression lends a poignant undertone to closing scenes of daytime play and nighttime dreaming. A sensitive reminder that imagination can provide comfort, though not in unlimited quantity. (Picture book. 6-8)