Barry, the Fish with Fingers (review)

Know what fish could really use? Fingers. Or so asserts Barry, a plump blue swimmer who claims the full complement of ten digits. Barry, quite the salesman, promises that fingers will solve every fish's problem; he's right, since the problem turns out to be boredom, and the fingers open up a world of fishy possibilities ("With fingers I can … Finger-paint! Play the piano!"). When Barry's spellbound audience asks where they can get themselves some fingers, Barry notes the case of finger-like fishsticks that's just sunk nearby. The joke likely worked a lot better in the book's original British incarnation than here, since "fish fingers" is what fishsticks are called in the UK; nor does the plot make a lot of sense—it's not clear, for instance, where Barry got his own fingers (do cases just plummet regularly into the sea?). Nonetheless, the sheer absurdity of the finger-puppet-brandishing, tickling fish is hard to resist all on its own, and the text's emphasis on dialogue, and silly dialogue at that, offers plenty of opportunity for over-the-top readaloud theatrics. Stylistically, the illustrations are cheerful but somewhat bland; though the medium is credited as gouache, its flat, unvarying colors, stylization, and crisp layering suggest digital creation, with a result that's stronger graphically than narratively. The fish provide an aquarium-bright rainbow of colors, though, and wide-eyed, broadly theatrical Barry is an enjoyable star act. Read it with gusto and be prepared to retrieve bits of Mrs. Paul's best from the fish tank later.