CarlosCricketCarlo’s Cricket, by Barbara Reid, illustrated by Ann Grifalconi • McGraw-Hill,  1967.

I wasn’t able to find an image of the cover online, so here’s a webcam shot of me, in the cafe in the lower level of the San Francisco Public Library, taking one last stroll through Carlo’s Cricket before I send it through the book return bin. Kind of a funny picture, but posing with my book while my computer beeped was making me feel self-conscious.

The book tell’s the story of Carlo, a young Florentine boy who gets his own cricket as part of the Festa del Grillo, an annual Ascension Day celebration that marks the arrival of spring in the city (and, a cursory Googling reveals, is now celebrated with electronic crickets). His parents buy him a pet cricket, and Carlo is entranced by it’s singing, until he accidentally leaves the cage open while he naps, and the cricket escapes. Carlo searches for his cricket all over Florence, providing a child’s-eye glimpse of the city in the 1960’s.

With beautiful and evocative illustrations by Ann Grifalconi (I particularly enjoyed how Italian Carlo’s parent’s gestures seemed — never have storybook parents appeared more chic), the book seems to have a golden glow about it, capturing both the warmth and celebration of Carlo’s Florence and the universal experiences of childhood. This seems like a wonderful read-aloud book, and one that will provide interest and evoke emotion in both children and those who read to them.

Reid’s story provides a vicarious wish-fulfillment/complication/resolution story that even young children will be able to relate to. The story is simply bu not repetitively told, and should appeal as a read-aloud to children close to Carlo’s age (five), as well as women in their thirties who enjoyed this book but did not remember it until they pulled it off the shelf.