Kirkus Reviews

A Rorschach-like inkblot—darling in one glance, malignant in the next—patterns the yellow endpapers of this haunting, wordless story, a precursor of what's to come. Isolated by a wordless, white page, a girl cries alone. Startled by her reflection, she tentatively plays with it. Splotches of color break up the emptiness, then swell into exuberant, golden-hued splashes of joy as the girl leaps with her image. Much as in Wave (2008), it is at this heightened, freeing moment that Lee throws her twist. Except here there is no uplifting, peaceful resolution. The girl and her image become one, then nothing. Upon reappearing, the disobedient reflection is punished. Glass shattered, the girl is alone again, weeping, the last page a mirror of the first. The artist's expressive drawing quality is ideal for depicting a child at play, but it's this same looseness and spontaneity that create the creepy disquietude felt when events take a dark turn. A cleverly planned design and well-told story with effective illustrations distinguish this psychological mind game, leaving readers to ponder its intent: Who is it for, and what is its point? The ensuing conversation holds the key. (Picture book. 9-12)

Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

The creator of the joyful <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">Wave returns with a provocative wordless book that is tall and thin like its namesake. First seen sitting alone and anguished in a corner, a dark-haired girl notices her reflection on the opposite page (the book's gutter stands in for the invisible mirror). As she interacts with her reflection, each sparse page shows the girl in a different emotional state: she's frightened at first, then coy, then playful. Dancing together, the girls get so close that they become distorted and drawn into each other, as Rorschach-like splashes of orange and yellow burst around them. The girls actually disappear into the mirror, and when they re-emerge, the girl's reflection no longer mirrors her movements, leading to anger. She appears to shove the mirror, which—now visible for the first time—topples with the reflected girl inside and shatters, leaving the girl alone again and giving the book a haunting symmetry. The unsettling imagery and lack of resolution won't be for everyone, but Lee again demonstrates her ability to capture the essence of childhood emotions—even the dark ones. Ages 3–up. <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">(May)

School Library Journal (Thu Jul 01 00:00:00 CDT 2010)

Gr 3-5 This dynamically illustrated, wordless book from the author of Wave (Chronicle, 2008) creates a very different mood. A small girl sits in the corner of a spread, her isolation and loneliness underscored by her head-down, hunkered-over posture as well as the austere palette (soft black and gray lines with a touch yellow for her dress) and stark white backdrop. Her mood, conveyed through her facial expression and body language, changes to surprise when she catches sight of her likeness in a mirror (represented by the book&9;s gutter), and eventually transforms into playful exuberance as she makes faces at and dances with her reflected double. The colors warm with splashes of pumpkin orange and pale yellow as the girl and her symmetrical image gradually move closer together and ultimately blend into one. A blank spread provides a narrative beat, and when the action resumes, the child&9;s reflection no longer parallels her movements, taking on a life of its own. Enraged, the protagonist seems to push at the mirror, which shatters to pieces, leaving her alone again and echoing the book&9;s beginning. Lee&9;s illustrations cut to the core to express deep-seated feelings, whether joyful or angry, and will evoke a strong response from readers. Kids will impatiently shuffle back and forth through the pages, trying to understand the happenings and fathom the mysteries of emotion and imagination, making this disquieting book a compelling discussion-starter. Joy Fleishhacker , School Library Journal