I want to hug this book and to kick it downstairs all at once. And that's why I'm typing to unload everything that's making me love and hate this book at the same time so I can finally find some peace.
I want to give this book five stars and one star all at once. And that's why I'm giving it three.
Why, book?
First, the good.
The best part is so good it must be written in caps.
THE ILLUSTRATIONS ARE SUPERB. THEY ARE ALMOST PERFECT. They are heartwarming and lovely, and beautifully painted, and I love that they are sometimes a bit scary - because kids really need some horror in their tales so that they can learn to overcome their fears. And I like the horror aesthetics so much. And it blends with the cute, the lovely, the pretty and the fluffy so well here. I think both kids and adults can find these illustrations charming. And it's good.
Second, the cute.
The friendship between the boy and his toy (it's like a bear, but with long rabbit ears, a kind of bear-rabbit his mom made when he was just a baby) is beautifully told and shown, you get to see their little games, their wordplays, their joys and little sadnesses and many many quotable quotes (I don't have the book on me right now, so maybe I'll add some later, but believe me when I say that they're beautiful. They speak to me, the food and sleep and fun and lazy days loving me, they speak to my heart. Let's just say that the favourite word of the bunch is "Yummy". And they believe that this word can describe the best things in the world. Ahhh, I'm bad at describing beautiful things, but anyway.) You read and, at times, your heart melts just a bit. In a good, not overly sweet way. Reading the first half of the book was a joy.
Third, the bad. And the ugly.
THE BAD MAKES ME SO MAD IT ALSO MUST BE WRITTEN IN CAPS.
See? I already started rhyming. And you don't want me to start rhyming, trust me.
I AM ALMOST SURE THAT WILLIAM JOYCE WAS SCREAMING "USE ALL THE TROPES!!!111!!!1!1!" ALL THE TIME WHILE TYPING THIS OVERUSED HOLYWOOD TROPE SALAD THAT IS THE WHOLE SECOND HALF OF THE BOOK. AND YES, I HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT, THANK YOU. IT HAS ALL THE THINGS. ALL OF THEM. WHY.
And honestly, this problem is running through all the works of Mr. Joyce. All his books have these really great illustrations painted by Joyce himself and this horrible hollywoodish plotline and feel (and no, I like Hollywood movies, I hate slapsticks, deus ex machinas, boring evil vs. good fights, action scenes for the sake of action scenes (at least they might look good on screen, in books they are boring as fuck - to me) and lazy and uninspired writing, especially in books like these that start with so much potential). And by now I have read probably like six of them. Why? I don't know, maybe I just like torturing myself.
Fourth, the bittersweet soup of lovely quotes and failed expectations I'm currently boiling in.
So, you see. I really wanted to love this book. And it certainly has qualities to be really really loved. But I can't and I won't. And it hurts. And it's the unreached potential and shattered expectations that hurt the most.
But maybe you'll be able to like this book for what it is, because despite the hollywoodish plotline and all the action for the sake of action and slapstick and lazy tropes (these things bore me more than they probably should, maybe it's because I read more children's books than I probably should) it's a very lovely story with a lovely message and lovely illustrations and lovely quotes. Try it out. Like I said, it's lovely.