The Buddha's Diamonds (review)

When older sisters Kim and Clare sadly inform young Henrietta that she is not, in fact, their human sister but rather a chicken adopted from the farm down the road, Henrietta is incredulous—at first. She protests that she doesn't even have feathers, but Kim insists that it's her and Clare's job to pluck them out of Henrietta each night while she sleeps ("It's why we get more allowance than you," Kim helpfully explains). As Henrietta's further objections are each met with Kim's convincingly clever explanations, she finds herself believing the story enough to head off to the farm to find her true family. The gentle friendliness of the chickens and peacefulness of their meadow home comfort her, and when Kim and Clare show up to confess their falsehoods and bring her home, she decides she's better off a chicken and is joined by Clare, who, surprisingly, has also had enough of Kim's domination. Amato successfully captures the casual cruelty of elder siblings and the unwilling gullibility of younger ones, managing to be both poignant (Henrietta comments that the chickens are nicer to her than her own sisters are) and funny (when frustrated Kim screams, "You're not a chicken!", Henrietta responds, "This is a peaceful meadow. Please use a peaceful voice"). Durand's bug-eyed, big-headed figures are goofily appealing as they parade against backgrounds that are highly detailed and slightly off-kilter. Henrietta's tiny but perky red bows accentuate her pluckiness, and it's quite easy to see why she prefers her poultry pals, with their winsomely top-heavy bodies and slightly maniacal grins (some complete with a full set of teeth), to her devious sisters. Siblings everywhere will nod in recognition at Henrietta's travails, and listeners may eye those chickens at the petting zoo with a little more longing after this.