From Publishers Weekly
The Tub People resemble nothing so much as the small, rigid figures found in children's play sets--an unlikely cast of characters and yet, improbably, this story about them succeeds. Together text and illustrations spin just the sort of story a child might orchestrate as part of bath-time play, one in which the miniature figures are invested with human emotions and made to enact dramas that intersect with the child's imagination and experiences. The Tub People like to go for rides on the washcloth raft and the floating soap. One day disaster strikes: the Tub Child is lost, washed down the drain. Eventually a plumber retrieves him and the Tub People are reunited in the safety of a child's bedroom--this time with the Tub Child positioned securely between his parents, with faintly discernible smiles on their faces. In this simple yet sophisticated picture book--Conrad's first--the author maintains a childlike point of view without becoming coy or condescending. And Egielski's illustrations--among his best work ever--avoid cuteness without appearing cold; they draw on realism, color and perspective to stunningly good effect. Ages 4-8.
Copyright 1989 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From School Library Journal
Kindergarten-Grade 3-- A deceptively simple story about seven small wooden dolls (a grandma, a boy and his parents, a dog, a doctor, and a policeman). They coexist with people, first as objects for bathtime and then, after the boy gets stuck in the drain, as windowsill decorations. But there's a spookiness, a surreality about the manner of their interactions that invites readers to use them allegorically. The temptation to perceive the actions of these dolls as a family set in a political state that severely limits their lives is strong. Egielski's crisply delineated, deceptively simple scenes create a visual world that adds considerably to the surrealism. There is no question about the inanimateness of these slickly painted, clothespinlike figures. But--with dots and a few lines as facial clues, can we be "reading" their thoughts? Close-ups are used to make a reasonably scaled world for these figures. Thus patterns of shadows, soap foam, quilt, and tools are blown up to take on new identities. Pictures and words interact in ways that magnetize readers, causing them to linger over a page and to turn back to test a theory of meaning. --Kenneth Marantz, Art Education Department, Ohio State University, Columbus
Copyright 1989 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.