Duncan Tonatiuh

Mexican picture-book author and artist Duncan Tonatiuh delivers another fascinating Aztec myth, following upon his earlier The Princess and the Warrior: A Tale of Two Volcanoes. That story told how the twin volcanos outside of Mexico City came to be, but here we learn about the five suns, and how humans were created. Having created humans four times, with little success - each incarnation of human had some flaw, and was transformed into something else, from mountains to fish, monkeys to show more birds - the gods grew weary of the project. Only Quetzalcóatl, the Feathered Serpent and the god of knowledge, wanted to continue. But to do this, he had to retrieve the human bones given to Mictlantecuhtli, the god of the underworld. Traveling to Mictlan, Quetzalcóatl had to traverse nine different levels of the underworld, each with its own danger, confronting Mictlantecuhtli at the end, and meeting his final challenge. Eventually successful in escaping with the bones, he then created a new king of human, mixed from the bone dust of previous humans, and divine blood. From that fifth and final creation, came the human beings of today...

As Tonatiuh makes plain in his afterword to Feathered Serpent and the Five Suns: A Mesoamerican Creation Myth, this story and its hero can be found in the belief systems of many Mesoamerican cultures, including the Toletcs, Mayan and Aztecs. This particularly retelling uses Nahuatl (Aztec) names and words, many of them glossed at the rear of the book. It is a fascinating story, and reminded me of similar creation myths I have encountered, from other cultures around the globe. The idea of the underworld, which one reaches by (among other things) crossing a great river, or the idea of a great and terrible dog guarding that world, are both themes I have seen in Greek and other mythologies. The idea of different races of humankind being created before our own is also one I have seen elsewhere, particularly in ancient Greek culture (the myth of the golden men, then the silver men, etc), and the idea of previous worlds before our own is also not uncommon. Finding these kinds of parallels is fascinating for me, as someone who loves folklore and mythology, but the story here was also just interesting, in its own right. The accompanying artwork, drawn and then enhanced digitally, was quite attention-grabbing, and is well-suited, stylistically speaking to the story. All in all, an engaging retelling of a fascinating creation myth, one I would recommend to picture-book readers who enjoy such fare, as well as to anyone interested in Aztec or other Mesoamerican civilizations and cultures. show less

I loved how Tonatiuh combined immigration issues with a folktale. Coyote tricks Pancho Rabbit by having him think he was finding his father who went North for work. Coyote, in Spanish, is also someone who helps people get across the border, so this animal choice has a double meaning. Aside from the folktale lesson about trusting strangers, this story shoes the sacrifice families face in order to provide for their families as Papa Rabbit travels North and leaves his family.

A terrific, illustrated biography of José Guadalupe Posada, 19th & 20th century Mexican printmaker, whose work and its impact are given rich treatment. Author-illustrator Tonatiuh combines his own distinctive illustrations with those of Posada, asking philosophical questions ("Was he [Posada] saying that we can try to go faster but one day we will all reach the same finish line and become calaveras?") provoked by Posada's images. While the biography itself is accessible and engaging, and show more the lively depictions of Dia de Los Muertos informative, the back matter (Author's Note, Glossary, Bibliography, list of Places to See Posada's work in the U.S, & index) shines, making this sturdy biography an excellent work of non-fiction for kids, libraries, & classrooms. I especially like the elusive author photo on the back flap! show less

When Sylvia Mendez and her family moved from Santa Ana, California to nearby Westminster in 1944, they discovered that the local educational authorities would not allow Sylvia and her brothers to attend the town's well-funded school, instead insisting that they go to the far inferior "Mexican School." After failing to convince the authorities that his children should attend the public school near where they lived, Sylvia's father, Gonzalo Mendez, began to organize a petition against show more segregation in the schools of Orange County. Eventually he enlisted the help of lawyer David Marcus, and the Mendez vs. Westminster case began. In 1947, seven years before Brown vs. the Board of Education struck down segregated schooling nationally, the California courts decided, in response to the Mendez case, to outlaw segregation in their state's schools...

Separate Is Never Equal: Sylvia Mendez and Her Family's Fight for Desegregation provides an important addition to the body of works devoted to the Civil Rights Movement in the United States, highlighting a legal case that provided the basis for the better known Brown vs. the Board of Education. I was not familiar with this story, and am very glad indeed to have that gap in my knowledge corrected. The story of Sylvia and her family is an inspiring one, and it highlights, not just the idea that standing up for justice can bring people of disparate backgrounds together - something emphasized in the story, through Sylvia's mother and her wise words - but also that every advance in freedom and equality is built upon the work of earlier people. It is unfortunate, but I think many, both children and adults, have an atomized view of history, often seeing certain developments in isolation, rather than as part of a rich tapestry of events. Author/illustrator Duncan Tonatiuh's book works to correct this myopic view, and it tells a story important in its own right as well - a story about standing up to racism and segregation. I appreciated both the story, which I found educational and moving, in equal measure; and the illustrations, done by Tonatiuh in his signature folk-art style, which owes so much to pre-Columbian Mesoamerican aesthetic traditions. The back matter, which includes an author's note, photographs on Sylvia Mendez and her family, a glossary, bibliography and index, provides additional information. Recommended to readers looking for children's books about the struggle to desegregate American schools. It could be paired very nicely with titles like The Story of Ruby Bridges, about one of the African-American children who desegregated the New Orleans schools in 1960. show less