Gr 2-5–From the smiling, rollicking kids on the cover laying claim to a beachful of treasure to the shipload of fierce, sneering, plundering, cutlass-waving, face-making buccaneers, boastful of their scurrilous behavior, these pirates are a motley group. In 19 poems, they teach "Pirate Patter" and punishment and describe some less-than-appetizing meals at sea; their penchant for stealing, burying, and sometimes losing track of treasure; and their weapons. To hear them tell it, they’re “...rude, crude dudes with attitudes” who practice growling–“Arrr!”–and “…love to try to make you cry.” “A pirate’s life is not for me!” says the young bloke rowing away from the ship under a starry sky. The upside and downside of life on a pirate ship is evident in Neubecker’s bold, colorful, detail-filled cartoonlike illustrations, outlined in India ink, that show kids trying out the pirate’s life among the surly crew. Boys, especially, will be charmed by these feisty poems.
Florian provides young pirate lovers with a profusion of arrrghs and ahoy mateys, enough to keep their piratephilia alive for a long time. Using stereotypical pirate-speak, each poem explores a familiar aspect of pirate lore and takes it to a new level of rhythm and rhyme, usually with a final line calculated to evoke a chuckle. In "Pirates Wear Patches," rhyming couplets list pirate clothing and accessories, from patches to puffy shirts to tricorne hats. The final stanza reads, "Pirates have parrots / And eat alligator. / Pirates shoot first / And then ask questions later." Sometimes the poems veer into the deliciously disgusting. "Pirates’ Meal" ends with the crowd-pleasing line, "Methinks that I will puke." Neubecker’s digitally colored India-ink illustrations play well with the light verse. While some of the images feature close-ups of faces, many of a pirate (or just his bloodshot eyes on a black background) staring directly at the reader, there is nothing to be afraid of here, and the reader knows that these poems are balanced between light gore and outright silliness. robin l. smith
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