The Big Fib

February 15, 2014
A fib made right paves the way to intergenerational friendship. When Miss Finn gets rid of a bunch of boxes (presumably to recycle them, though this detail is unexplained), her young neighbor and his dog seize an opportunity for imaginary play. The scene showing the elderly woman carrying the boxes out on the lawn depicts her as rather fearsome, or at least cranky, and the boy and his dog look on with rather alarmed expressions. When she is safely gone, they exuberantly pretend the boxes are a train, a race car and a jet. The controlled text unfortunately fails to match their ebullience and comes across as stilted in its efforts to employ repetition. "Then we played a race car game. We went fast, fast, fast." Miss Finn then reappears, arms waving and red all over, dismayed by the mess. It's hard to blame the boy for fibbing and blaming the wind, and the fib doesn't seem all that big, which undermines the story a bit. After watching her struggle to pick up the boxes, he comes clean and offers help, prompting Miss Finn to laud his honesty and change her tune. Hamilton's cartoonish, multimedia art reflects her changed affect by softening her expression as she serves milk and cookies and hunkers down to play with the boy and his dog amid the tidied boxes. A sweet, if uneven, story. (Early reader. 5-7)

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March 1, 2014

PreS-Gr 1-This story tells of a child in a true-to-life situation that leads to a useful lesson. A boy and his dog have a fine day playing with a pile of boxes discarded by a neighbor. "Then we played a train game. We went far, far, far." The boxes next become a race car and then a jet. Finally there's a mess. When Miss Finn, the neighbor, comes out and asks, "Who made this mess?" the nameless narrator tells a fib. "'The wind, ' I said." And soon, "My big fib got bigger. 'It was a big wind, ' I said." The reader doesn't know if Miss Finn believes the fib, but she does start picking up the boxes. Events unfold with a simplicity and economy that's appropriate for the narrator and the intended audience. Hamilton's comic drawings are suitably spare, too, and add a bit of kooky flavor to the unembellished narrative. Large heads of the three characters deftly convey feelings, and bits of costume are added when games are occurring. Miss Finn's slow work in picking up the boxes prompts the youngster's simple confession. As he helps with the cleanup, he finds that telling the truth brings happy results. Miss Finn's displeasure is quickly resolved, and over milk and cookies, she initiates a final game. "I am queen. You are my knights. And we are friends." The narrator presents a flower to his hostess and says, "You don't have to play that we are friends. That is real." The brief account is sure to evoke smiles and recognition from readers and could prompt class discussion.-Margaret Bush, Simmons College, Boston

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