From Publishers Weekly
With chunks of chopped paper and expressionistic slashes of paint, Radunsky (Telephone; Hail to Mail) interprets a piece by the late U.S. poet laureate Brodsky about the "discovery" of America. Brodsky visits an uninhabited section of Earth where land, water and air are in chaos. In the illustrations, Radunsky represents trees as rust-orange stalks capped by roughly circular green and blue bulbs, the land as a slab of fibrous brown paper, and the sky and sea are flat blue with a few white-dot stars or the crude curve of an ocean wave. The first explorers of this nameless terrain have gills or feathers: "petrels" arrive sooner than "settlers," Brodsky observes. The poet questions humans' claim to an ancient and indifferent land; "Nature sat down and picked up her pen/ to make what fish and seagull/ saw a reality: off sailed men/ and made America legal." Radunsky depicts men of various races against a backdrop of colonial buildings, and in the witty final spread, he pastes a snapshot of BrodskyAa notable immigrant himselfAagainst bristles of paper skyscrapers. This complex effort is the picture book equivalent to improvisational jazz, and its eccentricities may be most appealing to adults. However, when reread with patience, this volume's chewy rhymes and crunchy visuals will surely bring satisfaction to a younger audience. All ages. (Oct.)
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
Grade 5-8-A Nobel prize-winner/poet laureate's previously unpublished poem is translated into a bright picture book through Radunsky's energetic, colorful collages. The design sings; the words do not. Brodsky's reflections on the founding of America do little more than plod: "In the beginning there were just waves/hammering at the obstacles./The stars were starring to constant raves/but had no Oscars." "Don't you think that this land still has a few/secrets? That, huge and silent,/it waits for their being discovered by you,/since Nature is out on assignment?" Would that publishers let sleeping poets (and their less-than-stellar poems) lie.
Kathleen Whalin, Greenwich Country Day School, CT Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
