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CM . . . .
Volume VII Number 20 . . . . June 8, 2001
Along with the lilting rhyme (or lyrics, since you could just as easily
sing this book as read it), a trail of onomatopoeia in colourful type
marches across the bottom of each page giving an appealing oral activity
to accompany the poetry. A selection of these sound words is revisited on
the last couple of pages as a recall activity: What was that?
Jingle-clink. The repetition will encourage young listeners to memorize
favourite verses and create new ones of their own following the language
pattern: "There is music in a...." There is the added potential for
thoughtful discussion about the sounds made by other things within a
child's own experience or the question of when is a sound music rather
than noise?
The book is richly illustrated by Barbara Hartmann in happy, action-filled
watercolour drawings, creating a harmony of text and art that draws the
reader eagerly to the next page to see (and hear) the sounds the young boy
discovers. The pussycat from the title participates throughout the poem in
delightful scenes that cat-lovers will enjoy and which provide another
layer of story. For example, what cat can resist the perfect place to curl
up at nap time (see page 28)?
Highly Recommended.
Living in BC, Gillian Richardson is a former teacher-librarian and a published children's writer of
fiction and nonfiction.
To comment on this title or this review, send mail to cm@umanitoba.ca.
Copyright © the Manitoba Library Association.
Reproduction for personal use is permitted only if this copyright notice
is maintained. Any other reproduction is prohibited without
permission.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS FOR THIS ISSUE - June 8, 2001.
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A Level One Reader in the "First Flight" series, this book's rhythmic language makes it perfect for
sharing aloud with preschoolers or Kindergarten aged children. This is a sensual treat; the focus
is on simple sounds a young boy hears that are made by obvious things ("There is music in a
snowdrift/When it's melting in the spring.") and those more subtle ("There is music in a paint
brush, There is music in some chalk."). The poem ends in a meditative mood with the line...
"There is music in the breathing earth, When we learn to hear the tune."