Starred Review for Kirkus Reviews

One summer, two brothers live by mysteriously dire rules laid down by the older of the pair. The little one lists what he learned: "Never leave a red sock on the clothesline"; "Never eat the last olive at a party"; "Never ruin a perfect plan"—and so on. What if you break a rule? You risk facing monstrous red rabbits, crow armies, teetering robots, lumbering metal dinosaurs, large lizards, overgrown fungus and more. You'll miss a chance to ride on that whizzing red rocket, to catch a shooting star, to visit that glowing, golden kingdom inside the gate. Vivid acrylics and oil paints depict a pretend world so surreal, so specific (and sometimes so downright disturbing) readers will spend hours poring over its subtleties and subtexts. They'll puzzle over the brother's urgent directives too, which vacillate between painfully obscure injunctions and specific commandments quick as a thunderclap. The attachment and tensions between the boys stream clear throughout, however, with the younger racing to catch up and worrying over trespasses he never knew to avoid. Amid the murky peril and bizarre cast of reappearing characters, the brothers' relationship and its powerful emotional undertow remains the centrifugal force, holding each image—and the entire book—together. Evocative, enthralling and with absolutely astounding artwork so good readers will wish that, like summer, it would last forever. (Picture book. 4 & up)

School Library Journal Starred Review (Thu May 01 00:00:00 CDT 2014)

Gr 1-4 Right from the endpapers featuring an ominously shadowed street on which two boys stand in silhouette—one clearly older whispering into the younger child's ear—readers are clued into a familiar sibling dynamic: big brother sets the rules; little brother is always one step behind, doing his best to follow along. It's too bad for little brother that the rules are nearly impossible to anticipate: "Never leave a red sock on the clothesline" is accompanied by the image of the terrified boys hiding from a house-sized red rabbit on the hunt for the crimson article. Some rules seem designed to teach ("Never eat the last olive at a party"), while others simply reinforce the power dynamic ("Never ask for a reason"). Tan's oil paintings, with their masterful layering of color and impressionistic plays on light and shadow, toy with the ordinary and the surreal. At its heart, this is a story about sibling relationships, and Tan artfully captures the frustration, sadness, and joy of what it means to be brothers. The sophistication of the visual narrative paired with the simplicity of the text invites multiple readings and opportunities for discussion. Sumptuous and sincere—this title is a winner.— Kiera Parrott , School Library Journal

ALA Booklist (Tue Apr 01 00:00:00 CDT 2014)

Tan (The Bird King, 2013) continues to wow readers with his expansive, surreal images. Here, a series of loosely linked pictures suggest a fantastical summer shared by two brothers. Each full-page painting is paired with a one-sentence rule related to the accompanying scene. For instance, "Never leave a red sock on the clothesline" appears next to an image of the two boys crouching against a wall while a seriously giant red rabbit glares at the single sock drying in the sun. How the boys arrived in such a situation is unclear, but speculating is half the fun. "Never leave the back door open" precedes a painting of the two brothers overlooking a living room brimming with an otherworldly forest. Though the rules are occasionally confounding and don't lend themselves to a clear narrative, and the paintings are tinged with a growing sense of menace that might frighten young readers, Tan's mesmerizing, gorgeous art is as beautiful and entrancing as ever and will likely have wide appeal well outside the usual picture-book audience, especially among imaginative teen artists. HIGH-DEMAND BACKSTORY: Tan is a New York Times best-seller, and it's no surprise. His genre-spanning work has attracted a loyal and well-deserved fan base.

Horn Book

On left-hand pages the narrator enumerates a series of "rules" ("Never eat the last olive at a party"). The right-hand pages depict, in thickly textured paintings, a young boy (presumably the narrator) and an older boy (perhaps his brother) in a variety of enigmatically surreal situations. The book delivers superb artwork that elicits both a cerebral and emotional response.

Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 04 00:00:00 CDT 2024)

One summer, two brothers live by mysteriously dire rules laid down by the older of the pair. The little one lists what he learned: "Never leave a red sock on the clothesline"; "Never eat the last olive at a party"; "Never ruin a perfect plan"—and so on. What if you break a rule? You risk facing monstrous red rabbits, crow armies, teetering robots, lumbering metal dinosaurs, large lizards, overgrown fungus and more. You'll miss a chance to ride on that whizzing red rocket, to catch a shooting star, to visit that glowing, golden kingdom inside the gate. Vivid acrylics and oil paints depict a pretend world so surreal, so specific (and sometimes so downright disturbing) readers will spend hours poring over its subtleties and subtexts. They'll puzzle over the brother's urgent directives too, which vacillate between painfully obscure injunctions and specific commandments quick as a thunderclap. The attachment and tensions between the boys stream clear throughout, however, with the younger racing to catch up and worrying over trespasses he never knew to avoid. Amid the murky peril and bizarre cast of reappearing characters, the brothers' relationship and its powerful emotional undertow remains the centrifugal force, holding each image—and the entire book—together. Evocative, enthralling and with absolutely astounding artwork so good readers will wish that, like summer, it would last forever. (Picture book. 4 & up)

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

In a book that reads like an homage to The Mysteries of Harris Burdick, Lindgren award-winner Tan (The Arrival) offers a sequence of paintings that represent a boy-s cumulative summer knowledge, framed as rules and populated by Tan-s now-familiar menagerie of one-eyed robots, malevolent rabbits, and windup dinosaurs. The rules appear on the left, while lavish, brilliant paintings of the accompanying disasters light up the opposite pages. An older boy yanks his younger brother away from a platter at a soiree full of glaring raptors (-Never eat the last olive at a party-); frowns when bats, lizards, and sea anemones move into the living room (-Never leave the back door open overnight-); and, after a fistfight, bundles the younger boy into a locomotive and sends him off through Siberian wastes (-Never lose a fight-). At last, the older brother relents and rescues the younger boy (-Always know the way home-); they arrive in a lush, Wayne Thiebaud-style paradise of gigantic fruits and puddings through which they parade with drum and horn. As always, the swirl of emotion that Tan-s artwork kicks up lingers long after the book is closed. All ages. (May)