Next Stop Grand Central

January 4, 1999
Kalman, whose Chicken Soup, Boots visited people (and dogs) at their jobs, salutes the unsung staffers and commuters who pass through New York City's Grand Central Terminal every day. Mention is made of the train station's "stupendous star-filled ceilings" (which also get a sidelong tribute in the endpapers) and the big clock over the information booth, but more attention is paid to the human-scale operations. People dash to and fro, kiss goodbye and hello, and brandish a bagel or a slice of pizza. Affectionate mini-biographies introduce workers (Wanda "hears 100 complaints a week. Could you hear that many complaints and always be polite? She is"), and in the concourse, adults and kids hurry to various destinations: "The woman with the blue pancake hat is going to Chinatown to buy Poo Nik Tea." Passengers board a train run by engineer Mary Donch, and wait for conductor Robert to punch their tickets. Kalman situates her cartoons on a white background, a la Andy Warhol's early illustrations. Nothing is to scale--a gate to a track is tiny next to a person's close-up face--suggesting sensory overload within the vast site. The caricatures are as glib as the tongue-in-cheek narrative voice, yet the author succeeds in recreating the station's frenetic pace and the blurred sense of passersby. Although it is impossible to tell which names and details are imaginary, Kalman's creative reportage conveys the importance of all the individuals whose lives intersect at Grand Central. After all, as the author exclaims, "It's not called grand for nothing!" Ages 5-up.

April 23, 2001
PW wrote, "Kalman succeeds in recreating the station's frenetic pace and the blurred sense of passersby, and her creative reportage conveys the importance of all the individuals whose lives intersect at New York's Grand Central Terminal." Ages 4-8.

Starred review from February 1, 1999
K-Gr 5-Lovers embrace, loiterers loiter, hungry travelers nosh, and harried commuters grand-jete through the panoramic pages of this exuberant tribute to New York City's newly renovated landmark. Kalman re-creates the energy of the place-and the energy of the place is people. Pages swarming with a variety of figures, each intent on his or her own destination and purpose, generate compositions alive with movement, placing readers squarely in the middle of the hustle and the bustle where people-watching is inevitable. The artist breathes life into her teeming masses from Police Chief Coppola, who keeps the place safe from "no-goodniks;" to singer Olga Shmedvig, whose high notes are often mistaken for a train's whistle; to Mrs. Clarence Pffafenburger, who left her show dog Mitzi on the train to Greenwich; and many more. Not to mention those nameless characters in the background whom readers can wonder about. Along with her trademark zany humor, Kalman has managed to weave a surprising amount of information into her text, such as how many people pass through, how many trains there are, how the light bulbs are changed, where you go to complain, and who built the place in the first place. From cover to cover, this is a giddy, quirky, unforgettable romp through "the busiest, fastest, biggest place there is," the truly grand Grand Central Station. All aboard!-Marcia Hupp, Mamaroneck Public Library, NY

Starred review from December 15, 1998
Ages 5^-8. "It's like Grand Central in here!" Kalman's surreal style, with its wild, exaggerated, colorful comedy, captures perfectly the rushing excitement of the busiest, biggest train station in the world, where every day 500,000 people crisscross on and off trains. She gets the frenzy of the crowd and also the sudden close-ups of myriad individual people who pass you and give you just a glimpse of their worlds: their sweetness, weirdness, loudness, mystery. The trivial and the monumental are side by side. For many, rushing is daily routine; for a few, this is a place of elemental greeting and parting and heartfelt embrace. The play with type is part of the story: "Empire State Building" is printed vertically; one man orders food in tiny type ("I love pancakes"); someone else yells an order in red block capitals ("AHOTDOGANDFRIES / ANDMAKEITSNAPPY"). Behind the tumult are those who keep things going (the man in charge, the carpenter, the electrician who changes the kazillion light bulbs, the official who hears 100 complaints a week), each one as individual and eccentric as the passengers. As always with Kalman, there are some sly in-jokes for adults (a Woody Allen look-alike, a reference to Boris Pasternak), but kids won't care as they look closely at all the people that interest them, whether it's the man taking his pet lemon to the opera or the kid on her way to ride the merry-go-round in Central Park with her "stinky cousin Seymour Pingle." The text has a New York voice and idiom ("A place has to be safe. From no-goodniks. From fires"), and of course, this is a celebration of the city and its newly renovated MONUMENTAL station; but even those far from New York City will recognize the nervous intensity of an airport or train station where hordes rush by you, each individual intent on personal business, each one with a story. ((Reviewed December 15, 1998))(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 1998, American Library Association.)