★ 10/05/2015 McCarty’s bunnies float like small balloons, and this visit to their world drifts lightly from thought to thought. “What do bunnies know?” he writes. “Bunnies know to eat their vegetables—although they do not know their names.” The bunnies are shown gnawing at leafy lettuces and carrots, though their thoughts seem miles away. The farmer’s dog appears, a big, furry blimp who “only wants to play,” and the bunnies drift into underground burrows “where bunnies are safe.” They dream they are bees. They float amid fat pencils, crayons, and pieces of notebook paper. They hold up pieces of paper with their names written carefully on them: Brenda, Bobby, Brian. Writing is not presented as something they must learn, or should know how to do; it is the stuff of dreams, a treasure chest. Some picture books teach or moralize, others entertain, but McCarty (First Snow) does something different. He knows that making sense of the adult world is hard work, and he offers the very young a retreat that’s cozy, sleepy, and free of logic and structure. Ages 4–8. Agency: Gotham Group. (Jan.)
"Some picture books teach or moralize, others entertain, but McCarty does something different. He knows that making sense of the adult world is hard work, and he offers the very young a retreat that’s cozy, sleepy, and free of logic and structure." Publishers Weekly, starred review on Bunny Dreams
"This surreal charmer is just the thing to encourage little heads to nod off to bunny-filled dreamland." School Library Journal on Bunny Dreams
During the day, bunnies know to eat vegetables, stay away from dogs, and seek safety in underground tunnels. During the night, though, it's another story. In the night, bunnies dream: they dream of flying, of knowing the alphabet and numbers, of writing their names. And when they emerge from their dream state to wakefulness, they gather outside to admire an extraordinary moon. This bedtime story is certainly unique, but what makes the book so charming is the artwork. The bunnies, dogs, and lone chicken (do not question, just accept) look like elongated balloons with appendages and ears. (They are so darn cute that this reviewer wishes the publisher would package the book with a plush toy.) This fantasia really takes flight with the dream sequence, for the bunnies are by turns striped and numbered, then clad in form-fitting purple unitardsall while flying about with lettered wings. This book is by no means conventional; instead, it is charmingly weird and captures the unmoored imagination found in children. Reviewer: Wendy Miller Kibler; Ages 4 to 8.
Children's Literature - Wendy Miller Kibler
11/01/2015 PreS-K—McCarty's velvety and diffuse pencil strokes always infuse something of the surreal in his drowsy little creatures. Here the effect is as charming as it is lulling. Twenty-five little bunnies—plus one inexplicable chicken—greet readers on the endpapers, one for each letter of the alphabet. The letters are shown several times throughout the story, but McCarty offers much more than a simple concept book. "What do bunnies know?" asks the narrator. They know to eat their vegetables, to run from the farmer's dog, and to find a hiding place "safe to sleep and dream," but they do not know their names. The adorably lumpy but somewhat realistic bunnies—plus that oddball chicken—fall asleep while the text asks readers to imagine "Where…bunnies go when they dream." It is here that McCarty's dozing lagomorphs sprout wings to take to the air with bees and butterflies, becoming increasingly anthropomorphized. In their dreams, bunnies know their names, their A-B-Cs, and their 1-2-3s. Fanciful dream bunnies float in midair, surrounded by school supplies, toys, and lined paper with their "B" names written clearly (Brenda, Bobby, Brian, Bridget, etc.). One buck-toothed bun protests ("I am a bunny, and my name is not Bobby!"), and the sleepers awaken to a moonlit night, though traces of their unconscious wanderings are present—the moon looks like a giant bunny and one of the little rabbits still wears her dreamworld getup. The warm palette of yellow ochre, muted lavender, and mossy green, surrounded by clean white space, allows young readers to focus on the details—the serene expressions on the faces of the animals; the soothing, if bizarre, image of them flying with wings adorned with letters of the alphabet; the assortment of playthings and objects hovering around them. Readers who demand logic from their tales will find this a head-scratcher (what's the deal with that chicken?), but those who embrace the magical unreality of that land between awake and asleep will surrender to this gentle Jungian adventure. VERDICT This surreal charmer is just the thing to encourage little heads to nod off to bunny-filled dreamland.—Kiera Parrott, School Library Journal
2015-10-06 Rabbits have group dreams—very peculiar ones. At first, this animal tale appears fairly traditional: bunnies hop around a flowery field among bees and butterflies, hunkering down to eat carrots, radishes, and lettuce. "What do bunnies know?" They know to run from the farmer's dog "even if he only wants to play," and here things begin to feel uncanny. The enormous dog resembles the bunnies more than it does any canine, possessing tiny feet but virtually no legs, which highlights the fact that these bunnies, too, lack legs for their wee feet. They flee the friendly dog like a synchronized fleeing team, all in the same position, seeming to skim above the ground, which is solid white background. Diving into burrows, they again glide through air without touching soil. A chicken inexplicably joins them. When they sleep, their group dreams involve bees, butterflies, and a large dog—understandably—but also ABCs, 123s, and school supplies, which seem to arise from nowhere. A section about writing their names, with one bunny denying that his name is Bobby (who said it was?), is as peculiar as real dreams. McCarty shades his animals with smooth, fine lines, and their round eyes are almost electric. However, figures seem static even when moving, and the general lack of groundedness and gravity is more surreal than satisfying. Arbitrary and lacking closure, this is more like a real dream than a sleepy-time tale. (Picture book. 4-7)