Amazon.com Review
The protagonist of this story is actually human, but at heart (and in costume) he's Monkey Boy. Sooner or later, bedtime arrives for all youngsters, primate or other, but this mischievous redhead will do everything in his power to forestall the moment. He snitches bananas, attempts to use his paste-coated toothbrush on his hair, and swings from the shower rod before being marched into bed by his mother. Mom appears only as a shadow, scolding finger, or lower torso, although it is her perspective and voice we experience: "Monkey Boy, get down from there!" Ultimately, our hero prevails, sneaking a flashlight and yet another banana under the bedcovers.
Jarrett J. Krosoczka's first picture book captures a familiar occurrence in most households with children: the bedtime struggle. Monkey Boy is obsessed with his monkey persona--although no doubt he'll eventually progress into the next natural phase, perhaps Super Boy with a cape or Dinosaur Boy. Whatever his fixation, if he's like most kids, he'll use it to the utmost advantage in order to defend his right to stay up all night, snacking and watching TV. As in David Shannon's No, David!, the mother is an ambiguous figure of power. She looms mysteriously and is capable of tormenting the momentarily vulnerable Monkey Boy: "Of course I'll read you a story... " Her son looks sweetly hopeful. "...after you put these toys away!" Monkey Boy is crestfallen. If there were a sound track, we might hear cruel, maniacal laughter now. Still, before her final admonition to go to sleep, Mom tells her son she loves him, too. (Ages 3 to 5) --Emilie Coulter
From Publishers Weekly
"Monkey Boy" is actually a redheaded, wide-grinned human boy dressed in monkey-suit pajamas, complete with tail. Like all human children, he resists going to sleep, although there is definitely something very primate in the way he tries to keep bedtime at bay. Newcomer Krosoczka shows Monkey Boy not only as a serial sneaker of bananas, but also as a creature who is wont to put toothpaste on his head and treat the shower curtain rod like a jungle vine. With densely colored, thickly applied acrylics and hand-lettered typography, the double-page vignettes create a strong emotional as well as visual texture. However, the text is all from the perspective of Monkey Boy's mother, so that readers do not really get to know the hero. Krosoczka comically underscores the mother's omnipresence by never showing her frontally or full-figure; in some scenes, she is an admonishing finger, while in others, her firm-but-fair approach is telegraphed by the stance of her shadow or the bearing of her torso. Yet the perspectives emphasize her power, as the boy shrinks under her scoldings until the final page, when the flashlight under the covers establishes his hard-won independence. Ages 2-5. (June)
Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc.
