Pockety, by Florence Seyvos, illustrated by Claude Ponti (Pushkin Children's Books £7.99), is the right name for a book that could be smuggled into a largeish pocket. It is a treasure – a real find – and one of the most enjoyable children's books I've read in a while. It defies easy categorisation. It is unfamiliar yet reads like a classic. Florence Seyvos is a prizewinning French novelist who does not patronise, short-change or underestimate her readers. She reminds one of how many children's books are marred by a soft focus, a well-intentioned belief that the world must be presented as unflaggingly cheerful. This is the story of a tortoise trying to find independence in a difficult, unpredictable world. When Pockety's companion tortoise, Thumb, dies unexpectedly, she writes letters to herself, as if from her deceased friend, to spur herself on. Claude Ponti's precise black-and-white drawings are a choice accompaniment. This is a tortoise that deserves to win every literary race. (5+; and the book might not be wasted on teenagers either.)
Baby's Got the Blues by Carol Diggory Shields, illustrated by Lauren Tobia (Walker Books £11.99), is a diverting attempt to imagine what it is to be a baby: it explains that it is hard to be a wordless infant who cannot get through to his parents about his wet nappy, raging hunger and inability to walk. Tobia manages to convey the baby's desperation in a few strokes of the pen, a down-turned mouth on a potato-shaped head, mournful eyebrows, a pair of grabby hands. And even if love is wheeled out not altogether convincingly as the cure for everything (not sure that it helps with nappy rash), the story earns its feelgood finale and will boost toddlers with tiresome baby siblings as it invites them to swank about their own superior skills. (2+)
Irritatingly for illustrators – and sometimes for parents too – children often respond more immediately to books of photographs than to drawings. A Day I Remember: An Indian Wedding by Prodeepta Das (Frances Lincoln £11.99) has the distinction of being by a superb Indian photographer. The endpapers alone give a clue as to its beauty: outstretched hands with dark lacey designs in henna – a first step in the wedding preparations. This is the story of a little boy, Swayam, who has been chosen as the markundi, the pageboy who goes with the groom to the bride's house. It is a gentle, festive education, an immersion in India that will captivate its audiences. (4+)
The indomitable Shirley Hughes knows how to tell a story and has never left it to her beguiling pictures to do all the work. Her new book, Daisy Saves the Day (Walker Books £12.99), draws the reader in immediately to sympathise with little Daisy sent off to be a maid without any natural talent for housework. Daisy is employed by two elderly English ladies who are visited by their dashing American niece. (You can somehow guess that she is a Yank from her audacious purple suit.) Daisy's fortunes plummet then prosper, and by the end of the picture book you will feel as well-fed as if you had finished an entire and enjoyable novel. (4+)
In Smelly Louie (Macmillan £11.99), Catherine Rayner proves she knows the meaning of "hangdog". We first meet Louie dripping wet and smelling of roses and apple blossom after an unwelcome bath. He is "NOT happy about it". A malodorous story follows as Louie sets out on a canine quest to get his smell back. One stagnant pond later, he is even impressing a fox with his new perfume. But unfortunately for him, back at home, his owners are less impressed… Rayner turns out to have a nose for good, clean (or, in this case, filthy) fun. (2+)
And finally a book with a difference: for parents trying to muddle through the long summer holiday, Boycraft by Sara Duchars and Sarah Marks (Frances Lincoln £12.99) is a wonderful, lavishly illustrated book explaining how to make all manner of things. The ideas are actually do-able, unlike so many books of this kind where fancy overwhelms practicality. And the craft will be enjoyed every bit as much by girls. The monkeys made out of old jumpers are irresistible, the evil papier-mache heads are tremendous and even if there are no actual hotels in prospect this summer, some small consolation may be derived from becoming the architects of a "bug hotel" built with bamboo, a piece of wood, glue and string. (For the crafty of all ages.)
