Germano Zullo

Taking Line 135 on a train trip to see her grandmother, who lives in the country, a young girl reflects on her desire to see and know the entire world, and on her mother and grandmother's disbelief that this is possible, and advice that she wait until she is older, when she will understand better. Although she certainly wants to understand better, and yearns to be older, the girl believes that it is possible to see and know the entire world, and longs for the day when she is able to tell her show more elders that she has succeeded...

Originally published in Switzerland as Ligne 135, this deceptively simple picture-book offers a thought-provoking exploration of aspects of the human condition, providing differing insights, depending upon what stage of life the reader is experiencing while reading. It offers young children, who see all of time before them, with a seemingly ever-ready supply of opportunities to explore available ahead, an affirmation that it is possible to see and know everything. It offers somewhat older readers, who already feel time slipping away from them too quickly, and who are aware that opportunities are not endless, a poignant reminder of when everything seemed possible to them, because time was not so precious yet. By juxtaposing the two perspectives, the narrative offers the possible wisdom that its is only by believing, when young, that everything can be explored, that anything at all is explored in the end. Only by believing everything is possible, is anything accomplished. Thus, the literal truth (or untruth) of the idea that there is time to do everything is irrelevant - it is necessary to believe that things are possible, in order to make them possible. Or something like that...

The beauty of a book like Line 135 is that it can be read so many different ways, and author Germano Zullo is to be congratulated for penning a text that is so simple - just a sentence per two-page spread - and yet communicates such a wealth of ideas. The accompanying artwork by Albertine, who also illustrated Zullo's Sky High, is likewise minimal but expressive, with a colorful train zipping through black and white vistas. Is the girl's belief in possibility what gives color to her train, or does the lack of color in the rest of the scene represent the as-yet unexplored nature of the world through which she is passing? Anything is possible! Highly recommended to anyone looking for more philosophical picture-books, or for picture-books that are 'simply' about a girl's musings, on her way to visit her grandmother. show less

Two neighbors, Agenor-Agobar Poirier des Chapelle and Willigis Kittycly Junior, get into a game of one-up-manship in this humorous Swiss picture-book, each attempting to make his own house the tallest, fanciest, most prestigious structure in their area. Using costly and rare materials, and employing the foremost architects, they build up and up, until finally both homes are sky high. When one neighbor's house comes tumbling down, it seems that the other has won this odd game. But has show more he...?

Originally published in Switzerland as Les Gratte-Ciel (literally, "The Skyscrapers"), this extremely tall picture-book is the second title I have read from author Germano Zullo and illustrator Albertine, following upon Line 135. Although not quite as impressive as that other title - I found this one entertaining, but not poignant in the way that Line 135 was - Sky High is still an engaging and humorous book. I appreciated the ending, in which both neighbors discover that their quest has led them to a less-than-desirable place: Agenor-Agobar because his house has collapsed into rubble, and Willigis because his abode is too large to live comfortably in. The black and white artwork, which looks like it was done in ink, is detailed and full of amusing little details, with many items and people being labeled. Recommended to anyone who enjoys somewhat quirky picture-books, as well as to those searching for children's stories about the dangers and folly of overconsumption. show less

Marta the orange cow marches to the beat of her own drum in this charming picture-book from Switzerland. While her bovine companions at Monsieur Greyere's farm dream of becoming train engineers, Marta herself dreams of riding a bicycle. Constructing one from parts she salvages at the dump, Marta slowly teaches herself to ride her new bike. A year passes, and Marta enters and wins the big race that inspired her to become a bicyclist in the first place. Her pleasure at winning is somewhat show more diminished when she discovers that all the cows at home have taken up the bicycle as well. After all, Marta likes being unique. Then a hot air balloon floats by...

Originally published in Switzerland as Marta et la bicyclette, this entertaining romp of a picture-book pairs an engaging tale of a bovine heroine determined to do her own thing, with humorously engaging illustrations that capture the madcap fun of Marta's journey. Germano Zullo and Albertine have collaborated on other books, and their text and artwork blend seamlessly together to tell the story. My favorite scenes, visually speaking, include the one involving the dream train, in which an airborne Marta clings to her longed-for bicycle, and the one in which Marta teaches herself, with much trouble, to ride. As for the story, I appreciated the message about following your passion, and enjoyed the ending, in which Marta appears poised to follow her own drummer again. show less

Jumping Jack the racehorse and Roger Trotter the jockey were a talented team, winning all manner of show-jumping tournaments. Then disaster struck, and Jumping Jack seemed to lose his skills. A worried Roger took him first to the veterinarian, then to a psychologist, and finally on a seaside vacation for rest, but nothing seemed to help. Then, in the middle of yet another stumble, Roger's eyeglasses slipped off his own face and onto Jack's, resulting in a markedly improved performance. Could show more it be that this equine champion simply needed corrective eyewear...?

Originally published in Switzerland as Dada, Jumping Jack is the fourth picture-book I have read from talented author/illustrator team Germano Zullo and Albertine, and offers an amusing examination of a common childhood experience: namely, needing eyeglasses. It also happens, by sheer coincidence, to be the second European picture-book I have read recently about a racehorse, following upon Marie Dorléans' The Epic Race. I enjoyed Zullo's story here, appreciating the matter-of-factly madcap nature of the adventure being described. I also enjoyed Albertine's colorful, stylized illustrations, which complement the humor of the tale quite nicely. Recommended to fans of Zullo and Albertine, as well as to those looking for new picture-books about needing glasses. show less