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A review by leslie_d
Me & Mama by Cozbi A. Cabrera
4.0
Me & Mama easily has one of the most charming covers for this type of picture book…to say nothing of the endpapers. Look at that cover: Cabrera promises a portrait full of personality—and joy—and she does not disappoint.
Let’s pause at that title page: I can almost see that split second before where the girl thrusts herself forward into her mother’s side for that hug, giggling, maybe a bit shy before the viewer. That sweetness and light continues in the girl’s careful entry into her Mother’s creative space—one of my favorite double-spreads of the book. The space is vast, neat, stocked with color and texture and promise. Her mother delighted, her work paused, her posture waiting. I love Mama’s bare feet.
“I want to be everywhere Mama is,” and while most of the places are actual spaces in the house or outside, always in proximity to her mother, it can also be in her mother’s wisdom, “sometimes things break, Mama says.”
In Me & Mama, we get a glimpse of the moments of a day that are all about this girl and her Mama. We begin in the hours before anyone else is awake and with a girl and her Mama undaunted by the rain outside. In fact, the rain is a subject of beauty. We're invited into
a morning routine of bathing, grooming, breakfasting and dog-walking; and a nighttime one as well. It is in the routine that caregiver and child capture the everyday, the constancy of their presence and affection.
It would be all too familiar to observe how a Me & Mama are alike, but Cabrera’s pairing allows for shared things to hold difference. Think about the cover, both are smiling, hands over eyes—and one is peeking. A spot the difference. Both have cups, dresses and bowls of oatmeal; each have different reasons why, and how.
Me & Mama invites the reader/listener to make their own observations about footwear, toothbrushes, and bedtimes; the customized specifications of shared things. There is an invitation to observe the relationships to each other in more abstract ways; in the singing, the laughter, or an interaction with discoveries outside the house.
Cabrera writes a pleasant rhythm into the otherwise unrhyming, unstructured text. The narrative told in parts. The waking and closing of a day surrounds a sequence I didn’t expect. I did expect the girl to finally get her walk with Mama out in the rain (with the dog); that aspect of the sequence was expected. It’s that second paragraph along the walk:
A hole is where a branch was.
Nests are left behind in winter.
Some things don’t let go. But for what?
The stores are boxes filled with people.
That paragraph, and the shift from puddle splashing to a cozy bedtime scene. As the first person narrative already has its own whimsical turns, that paragraph’s arrival is more mystifying than startling. You just read along and through it and find that moment gathered up with the others at the close of the book when “I close my eyes and let the day spin me some pictures.” This is a book you just read, and not do the interactive pauses of some—and that isn’t a criticism. I love leaning in and just enjoying a story spun so beautifully—and Cabrera’s artwork is beautiful. That last page, “There’ll be me and Mama,” so quiet and tender…
Pick up Me & Mama, if only for the artwork: it brought to mind Shaun Tan, Eva Campbell’s work in Africville, artist Fabiola Jean-Louis.
I enjoyed the longer and more involved quality of the picture book; the beautiful lines: “the clouds outside are wearing shadows;” “Sky is taller, taller than the trees. Mama says a song is highs and lows;” “My mouth gets sleepy first.” Details outside of the skill of composition, color, posture…: the shower cap; textiles and wall hangings; her doll.
It’s a good quiet snuggle in book before rattling around the house or out splashing in the puddles. It’s the kind of Mother-Daughter book that doesn’t try too hard, but does a lot of good hard work. Cozbi A. Cabrera is a maker of beautiful things, this book is just a glimpse.
OF NOTE: this isn't just a Mother-Daughter occasion read; it's an everyone kind of read; a great story time option.
Let’s pause at that title page: I can almost see that split second before where the girl thrusts herself forward into her mother’s side for that hug, giggling, maybe a bit shy before the viewer. That sweetness and light continues in the girl’s careful entry into her Mother’s creative space—one of my favorite double-spreads of the book. The space is vast, neat, stocked with color and texture and promise. Her mother delighted, her work paused, her posture waiting. I love Mama’s bare feet.
“I want to be everywhere Mama is,” and while most of the places are actual spaces in the house or outside, always in proximity to her mother, it can also be in her mother’s wisdom, “sometimes things break, Mama says.”
In Me & Mama, we get a glimpse of the moments of a day that are all about this girl and her Mama. We begin in the hours before anyone else is awake and with a girl and her Mama undaunted by the rain outside. In fact, the rain is a subject of beauty. We're invited into
a morning routine of bathing, grooming, breakfasting and dog-walking; and a nighttime one as well. It is in the routine that caregiver and child capture the everyday, the constancy of their presence and affection.
It would be all too familiar to observe how a Me & Mama are alike, but Cabrera’s pairing allows for shared things to hold difference. Think about the cover, both are smiling, hands over eyes—and one is peeking. A spot the difference. Both have cups, dresses and bowls of oatmeal; each have different reasons why, and how.
Me & Mama invites the reader/listener to make their own observations about footwear, toothbrushes, and bedtimes; the customized specifications of shared things. There is an invitation to observe the relationships to each other in more abstract ways; in the singing, the laughter, or an interaction with discoveries outside the house.
Cabrera writes a pleasant rhythm into the otherwise unrhyming, unstructured text. The narrative told in parts. The waking and closing of a day surrounds a sequence I didn’t expect. I did expect the girl to finally get her walk with Mama out in the rain (with the dog); that aspect of the sequence was expected. It’s that second paragraph along the walk:
A hole is where a branch was.
Nests are left behind in winter.
Some things don’t let go. But for what?
The stores are boxes filled with people.
That paragraph, and the shift from puddle splashing to a cozy bedtime scene. As the first person narrative already has its own whimsical turns, that paragraph’s arrival is more mystifying than startling. You just read along and through it and find that moment gathered up with the others at the close of the book when “I close my eyes and let the day spin me some pictures.” This is a book you just read, and not do the interactive pauses of some—and that isn’t a criticism. I love leaning in and just enjoying a story spun so beautifully—and Cabrera’s artwork is beautiful. That last page, “There’ll be me and Mama,” so quiet and tender…
Pick up Me & Mama, if only for the artwork: it brought to mind Shaun Tan, Eva Campbell’s work in Africville, artist Fabiola Jean-Louis.
I enjoyed the longer and more involved quality of the picture book; the beautiful lines: “the clouds outside are wearing shadows;” “Sky is taller, taller than the trees. Mama says a song is highs and lows;” “My mouth gets sleepy first.” Details outside of the skill of composition, color, posture…: the shower cap; textiles and wall hangings; her doll.
It’s a good quiet snuggle in book before rattling around the house or out splashing in the puddles. It’s the kind of Mother-Daughter book that doesn’t try too hard, but does a lot of good hard work. Cozbi A. Cabrera is a maker of beautiful things, this book is just a glimpse.
OF NOTE: this isn't just a Mother-Daughter occasion read; it's an everyone kind of read; a great story time option.