…the transformative power of darkness is key in Mordicai Gerstein's The Night World …Painting in a subtly modulated palette of grays and blacks, Gerstein…offers readers a kind of night-vision-goggles view of a child's absorbing adventure in perception…For Gerstein, an old-fashioned Romantic, wonder lies everywhere for those prepared to see it, and wide-eyed 4- and 5-year-olds look to be among the prime candidates.
The New York Times Book Review - Leonard S. Marcus
★ 04/20/2015 Caldecott Medalist Gerstein (The Man Who Walked Between the Towers) lifts two everyday miracles up for celebration—the way that night transforms objects into unfamiliar forms and shadows, and the way that morning restores them to their original splendor. One morning before dawn, a black cat jumps onto the bed of a boy. “Me-out!” Sylvie tells him. “It’s coming.” Gerstein paints the two as black shapes on soft gray; as they creep through the house, sleeping family members and bulky pieces of furniture create graceful, abstract compositions. For Gerstein, night is not a problem to be solved. The boy wanders without anxiety, and everything unfolds with a sense of leisurely pleasure. He wonders at the starry sky (“The air is warm and sweet.... This is the night world. There are shadows everywhere”) and struggles to identify familiar things. “Are those lilies and sunflowers? Where are their colors?” Now, animals begin to gather in anticipation: deer, an owl, a porcupine, rabbits. “It’s coming,” they murmur. What’s coming is clear, but readers will find their hearts beating faster despite themselves. The sky begins to lighten, becoming a pale, milky green. A turn of the page and the sky grows brighter; the animals retreat: “This is our bedtime.” Yet another page turn, and the boy greets the rising sun. “It’s here!” says Sylvie. The sun casts long yellow rays, and the flowers are revealed in all their glory. It’s a remarkable achievement, gratifying for the way simple pencil lines and casual strokes of color are used to create the luminous spreads. Gerstein’s sure eye and patient observation of each moment of the dawn provide all the drama this narrative needs. Ages 3–6. (June)
★ 03/01/2015 PreS-Gr 2—The shadows of a summer night sing the promise of morning to a boy and his cat as they venture out into the dark yard surrounding their house. In the introductory scene just before the title page, the redheaded boy, tucked in bed in his darkened room, addresses the black cat curled above him, gazing through the window at the dusky world. "Good-night, Sylvie." Sylvie, it soon appears, is not ready for sleep and meows insistently until the two tiptoe through the sleeping house and out into the nighttime shadows. Gerstein's roughly sketched scenes with well-chosen detail are done on gray art paper, a fine choice for these shadowy night views. The early indoor scenes are boxed against the outer page. Heading for the open door, Sylvie hints, "It's coming…hurry." The dark outside opens fully on a spread and is soft and comfortable with shadows everywhere. "Are those shadows roses? Are those lilies and sunflowers? Where are their colors?" Soon the shadows reveal a great variety of animals that begin to echo Sylvie's hint. "It's on its way…here it comes…It's almost here." Eventually a glow appears above the trees, the shadowy animals slip away, and the world gathers color, leading to a full burst of sun. Boy and cat rush into the house to announce the beautiful day. Gerstein adds a personal note about his early childhood discomfort with the outer night world and his lifelong love of sunrise. Children will surely respond to his simple scheme, beautifully crafted with spare text and with much to enjoy in the homely views of house and yard. VERDICT This is fun bedtime fare, but so much more—parents and teachers will find many possibilities for conversations about night and day.—Margaret Bush, Simmons College, Boston
★ 2015-03-17 A young narrator says goodnight to his cat, Sylvie, who later wakes him to beckon him to an adventure in the early hours. In Gerstein's pen, ink, and acrylic art against gray paper, the night world of hallway, sleeping family, front walk, and garden is recognizable—yet everything is shadowed and quiet. When child and cat step out of the house, a stippling of bright stars across the night sky echoes the sweeping Milky Way reproduced on the endpapers. Gerstein's darkness has softness and depth: here the night world is benign, and for all its strangeness, it is simply, though possibly magically, different. The narrator hears animal voices expressing expectation ("It's almost here"); he speaks with his cat and with a porcupine on his front lawn. He hears the increasing volume of birdsong; the sky pales with light; a bear in the shadows slips away as the dawn arrives. Children lucky enough to experience a summer night in the country—or even the suburbs—without artificial light may get to experience this arrival of early morning, which has its own fanfare: at first mysterious, then spectacular, bold, bright. Gerstein's morning sky practically sings its own hymn. Everything in the young protagonist's world looks different in the daytime: the front walkway, bright roses, and sunflowers. A beautifully realized and delightful celebration of night and sunrise. (Picture book. 3-7)