April 1, 2019
What makes “the worst book”? The latest from Gravel (You Can Be) is a fourth-wall-breaking showcase of picture book “don’t”s. Three critters rendered in Gravel’s signature comics style introduce an intentionally dull fairy tale with great skepticism (“Interesting title choice, isn’t it?” “I don’t think people are going to read this”), then criticize the story, illustrated in a less polished, childlike art style. Misspelled words, clichés, a lack of character diversity, sexist attitudes, and even what appears to be sponsored content (“Kiki-Cola! The drink of true heroes”) are all called out by the veritable Greek chorus of creatures before they lose interest and, in a narrative lull (one finger up her nose, “the prinsess rested”), nap and play a game of chess. At one point the book’s creator seems to react to the reviewers’ disapproval of repetitive vocabulary by overcompensating with $10 words (“The ambidextrous reptilian scurrilously gained entree into the haberdashery”); perhaps confusingly, this is the only time the creator seems aware of the running commentary. Adult readers will find the book a fine informal educational resource; younger readers are likely to enjoy both its up-tempo humor and being in on the meta take. Ages 6–10. Agent: Lori Nowicki, Painted Words.
April 1, 2019
It's not every book that can be trite, dull, sexist, gross, kissy, violent, nondiverse, and replete with misspellings. Of course Gravel does it all deliberately and to such comical effect that "I'm wondering if anyone is still reading this book!" from one of the motley blobs providing reactions to each successive literary malfeasance will definitely be a rhetorical question. The storyline features a "brave prinse" named Putrick, the "beautiful prinsess" Barbarotte, a monster roaring "POOPIE PEEPEE FART BOOGER!" and a closing revelation that it was all a dream. It is played out by anthropomorphic sausages as the trio of critics (a red spider, black inkblot, and lump of what could be silly putty or perhaps a pink turd) offer individual, often conflicting takes and observations: The inkblot celebrates the potty humor, for instance, even as the silly putty (or turd) decries it, for instance. Even they don't catch everything, though, as in the simply drawn cartoon scenes such details as the number of legs beneath Barbarotte's gown or the message on Putrick's shirt are subject to abrupt shifts that go unnoted, as do the decidedly gender-stereotypical decorative motifs on the final scene's twin beds. Once they pick up what's going on, young readers should have no trouble picking up the slack and pondering the many implications. A clever, ingenious author's "wurst" work yet. (Picture book. 6-8)
COPYRIGHT(2019) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
July 1, 2019
Grades 1-4 Flawlessly executing the title's bold claim, Gravel has, indeed, created the worst book ever?but in this case, it's a good thing. Tired (sometimes sexist) tropes, misspellings, food crumbs, deliberately poor illustrations, lags in plot, terrible dialogue?it's all hilariously there, pointed out by an increasingly exasperated trio of creatures who serve as a combination Greek chorus and peanut gallery. The layout is such that the unfortunate princess story unfolds in full-page illustrated panels on the left of each spread, while the commentary-spouting characters (a pink blob, a spikey black splotch on legs, and a spider) appear on an otherwise blank page to the right. Fairy-tale protagonists Prinsess Barbarotte and Prinse Putrick resemble uncooked hotdogs, and Barbarotte does a lot of waiting around while Putrick seeks adventure?until he rides back in to save the day ( Come on, Barborette! It's not 1850! You don't need a man to save you! ). This goofy satire will work best with an audience that has storytelling basics under its belt?though it's unabashed silliness will tickle readers of all ages.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2019, American Library Association.)