Gr 1–4—An evocative story in verse narrated by a young girl who witnesses the unearthing of a centuries-old mummified girl in a bog in Ballywhinney, Ireland. The muted green and blue hues and smudgy effects of the watercolor illustrations complement the marshy setting, while the lyrical narrative sets the melancholy tone. Frequent use of dialogue with sprinklings of Irish vernacular ("Jakers!") brings the story to life. Readers will easily relate to Maeve, who, determined to be a part of the discovery, emphasizes to a policeman that she and her grandfather were responsible for the find, not the archaeologists who showed up soon after. Visible paint strokes expertly convey Maeve's feelings of curiosity, confusion, and sorrow as she watches scientists uproot the body amid a media frenzy. The images of the mummy are subtlely handled; readers catch a few glimpses of arms, legs, a face, and finally the body itself in a museum exhibit. However, Maeve's musings about whether the Ballywhinney girl is content to be on display and references to her "dark, dead face" may still be upsetting to sensitive readers. Depictions of what the girl may have looked like when she was alive, paired with Bunting's haunting text, humanize her and let the story end on a more positive note. An afterword provides information about the Irish wetlands where actual ancient bodies have been dug up. A perceptive portrayal of a potentially disturbing subject.—
Mahnaz Dar, formerly at Convent of the Sacred Heart, New York CityMaeve's grandpa unearths a mummy--common in Ireland, where (a note says) scores of remains have been found. Maeve's uneasiness at the find turns to empathy for the long-ago girl who, like her, had blond hair. McCully's masterful pen-and-ink lines capture Maeve's feelings; watercolors evoke the lush countryside. This is a sensitive opening to the universal theme of curiosity about death.
Maeve is watching her grandpa cut turf for their kitchen fire when he unearths "a dead boy buried in the bog. Murdered maybe." Not so; knowledgeable local police send to Dublin for a team of archaeologists, who confirm that this is a mummy, perhaps a thousand years old -- no rare thing in Ireland, where (according to a note) scores of such remains have been found. Still, this fictional one (a girl, it turns out) causes a stir of publicity as she's taken away to be researched. Meanwhile, Maeve's initial uneasiness at the find becomes empathy for the long-ago girl who, like Maeve, had blond hair and who was buried with blue lupin and wild roses; though her body now lies in the museum, in Maeve's imagination she still walks on the moonlit bog she loved. McCully captures the excitement and the subtler succession of Maeve's feelings in masterfully scribbled lines of pen and ink and evokes the Irish countryside in lush watercolor, an unspoiled sweep of shades of green under an ever-changing sky. The tender, gently elegiac tone renders this far more than a picture of how such finds happen: Maeve's thoughtful curiosity and gentle concern about this distant death makes an unusually sensitive opening to that universal theme. joanna rudge long
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