Lion Lessons by Jon Agee (review)

Who knew that the path to becoming the biggest of the big cats took only seven easy steps? Our little boy hero, clad in full lion gear, mane and all, tells his audience how he followed those steps and earned his “Lion Diploma” from a pro—a lion, obviously—but not without a few setbacks. His roar rated only a “quiet” on the lion’s roar meter, the boy asked for spaghetti when choosing his lion diet, and his attempt to pounce on an old lady resulted merely in her cooing over his cuteness. So how was he dubbed an official lion? When he spotted a kitten being chased by a dog—the nemesis of all cats, big or small—he put all his skills to the test, bared his claws, shook his mane, and sprang on the poor canine, sending it skittering away in fear. The ending fizzles out—the neighborhood cats won’t leave their guardian “lion” alone—but the tale’s kookiness and the humorously earnest narrator more than make up for that flaw. The seven-step notion gives structure to the clear, direct text, and Lion’s deadpan delivery of instruction adds sly humor. The boy’s costume is small nod to Sendak’s wolfish Max, and his expressions teeter between joyful enthusiasm and serious doubt; meanwhile, the lion is all business, side-eying his charge in disappointment or rolling his eyes at the boy’s failures. Soft but sturdy dark lines shape Agee’s simple figures, which sometimes appear as vignettes against white backgrounds and sometimes romp in full-page or full-spread landscapes. The lion’s instructions make this storytime ready, so get your claws out and your roars ready for a lively, noisy program.