[Calling Caldecott posts this season will begin with the Horn Book Magazine review of the featured book, followed by the post's author's critique.]

I’ve reread John’s Turn many times since I wrote the above review, and each reading delights me — a sign of a book worthy of Caldecott consideration. The award criteria ask committee members to consider the appropriateness of the style of illustration to the story, theme, or concept. I can’t think of anything more appropriate than Berube’s soft cartoon illustrations glowing in warm shades of gold to make the vulnerability of this story approachable and accessible for young readers. The images exude a feeling of safety that encourages openness and empathy.

In terms of excellence of technique, I invite you to admire the way Berube draws children. John’s classmates all look like individuals who would have their own interesting stories to tell. On page after page, the children’s emotions are clear on their faces, which are drawn with nothing more than two dots for eyes and three to four other lines to build out the nose and mouth. Berube allows herself only a few eyebrows to assist in conveying emotion, and those are deployed carefully to show John’s anxiety when he begins to dance, and then they slowly melt away while he’s dancing to show his increasing comfort. A limited, muted color palette unifies the book, but notice how Berube surrounds John with washes of color to signal his mood at various points. He’s circled in a cloud of beige and slate while he waits backstage, and then as he loses himself in his dance, the dull colors turn into sky blue, then green, then gold. The way the art in this book functions is subtle and so perfect.

If I were making my case for the Caldecott committee, I’d focus on the forceful and effective composition. The loose lines and the way the colors don’t always stay in them give an appealing sense of informality, but the page-turns and layouts are carefully designed, and the reader’s eye goes where Berube wants it to go. My favorite example of this is the spread in which one of the children, Andre, talks out of turn (“What’s John gonna do?”). Out of the few dozen kids on that page, it is immediately apparent who is talking, and one doesn’t need toread the accompanying text to know that child is being sassy. Much of this story is conveyed in the art.

If I were looking for weaknesses, I might point out that I don’t love the way the gutter cuts some kids’ faces in half in a few spreads. It’s a minor detail, but when a committee has piles of extraordinary books to consider and discuss, as the committee does this year, details are what keep books on the table or take them off the table. Also, though, life is imperfection, and this book does what it sets out to do with power and skill. I’m curious — what details stand out for you in this thoughtful, tender book?