A humorous "multi-cutlery" tale about how Spork — half spoon, half fork — finally finds his place at the table. A charming story for anyone who has ever wondered about their place in the world.
August 23, 2010
Half spoon, half fork, stumpy Spork is the product of a mixed marriage. He
always feels left out at dinnertime, and "after the billionth time he was asked, ‘What are you, anyway?' " he attempts to remake himself. "He put on a bowler hat to look more spoonish," and when that falls flat, he makes a paper crown "to look more forkish." Only the arrival of "a messy thing" that smears, spills, and sends the other cutlery flying provides
the opportunity for Spork to shine, as "something that could do all sorts of things at once. Something flexible and easy to hold." The next-to-last page reveals that the "messy thing" is an enormous baby in a bib, who regards Spork fondly as she prepares to dig in. Arsenault (Mr. Gauguin's Heart) renders the various pieces of cutlery with scrawly, mixed-
media artwork in muted grays and greens, reflecting the glumness and isolation Spork feels. It's a story that could wilt under the weight of moral high-mindedness, but the graceful voice of Maclear, making her children's book debut, keeps it light and entertaining. Ages 3–7.
Starred review from August 1, 2010
Children of mixed marriages are about to find an unlikely ally in their cutlery drawers. Spork stands out. With a spoon for a mum and a fork for a dad, Spork is simultaneously too round and too pointy to fit in. Time and again he's passed over at the dinner table. That is, until the day a "messy thing" joins the family and everyone sees that when it comes to managing its baby food only a true spork will do. While some picture-book tales have difficulty promoting the "different can be good" message without slipping into deep didactism, Maclear's text feels nearly effortless. The inanimate-object identification also pairs brilliantly with Arsenault's melding of mixed media and digital art. Against the mostly black-and-white images, the frenzied red globs of the baby's food explode off the printed page. Immediate comparisons are bound to be made to Amy Krouse Rosenthal's Spoon (illustrated by Scott Magoon, 2009), but any good kitchen has room for both. A sublime little parable. (Picture book. 4-8)
(COPYRIGHT (2010) KIRKUS REVIEWS/NIELSEN BUSINESS MEDIA, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)
February 1, 2011
Gr 1-4-Spork is the offspring of a spoon mum and a fork dad, and he feels like a misfit. He watches despondently from the drawer while the other silverware is put on the table. One day, a "messy thing" with no table manners arrives, causing panic among the utensils. Spork's self-esteem is assuaged at last when he turns out to be just what the baby needs to feed itself. While the positive portrayal of a "mixed-race" character is heartwarming, the story's climax actually weakens the metaphor. Spork accepts himself only after receiving the external validation of being used by the infant. Despite the love of parents who think he's perfect, he never really learns to love himself. That said, the lighthearted storytelling and whimsical mixed-media illustrations will draw readers in, and adults will find the book to be a useful conversation starter for the topics of race, difference, and acceptance.-Heidi Estrin, Feldman Children's Library at Congregation B'nai Israel, Boca Raton, FL
Copyright 2011 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.
September 15, 2010
Preschool-G Young SporkMums a spoon and Dads a forkis a little bit of both, creating endless sorting problems in the kitchen. In an attempt to fit in, Spork dons a hat to look more spoon-ish and later a crown to fit in with the forks, but neither leads to approval. Finally, a messy baby arrives in the human householdspilling, flinging, and dripping with abandonand Spork turns out to be the perfect eating utensil. Maclear, the daughter of a British father and Japanese mother, writes knowingly of cultural hybridity, and her message of acceptance will resonate, particularly with parents. Arsenaults digitally assembled, mixed-media illustrations, rendered in gray tones highlighted in red, feature a host of anthropomorphized kitchen utensils sure to delight young listeners. Particularly clever are Sporks fantasies of other combos: a mixer-juicer and a rolling pincorkscrew, for example. Although the youngest may miss the texts interracial implications, theyre sure to catch Mum and Dads assurances that Spork is perfect just the way he is. Pair with Amy Krouse Rosenthals Spoon (2009).(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2010, American Library Association.)
January 1, 2011
Spork, the offspring of a spoon and a fork, feels conspicuous in the kitchen. Forks and spoons ignore him, and he goes completely unused--until a "messy thing" (a baby)--arrives on the scene. Nothing treacly about this mixed-cutlery tale; the clever text and lively illustrations have enough zest to make the lesson about fitting in around the table more than palatable.
(Copyright 2011 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)