Milo is on a long subway ride with his older sister. To pass the time, he studies the faces around him and makes pictures of their lives. There's the whiskered man with the crossword puzzle; Milo imagines him playing solitaire in a cluttered apartment full of pets. There's the wedding-dressed woman with a little dog peeking out of her handbag; Milo imagines her in a grand cathedral ceremony. And then there's the boy in the suit with the bright white sneakers; Milo imagines him arriving home to a castle with a drawbridge and a butler. But when the boy in the suit gets off on the same stop as Milo--walking the same path, going to the exact same place--Milo realizes that you can't really know anyone just by looking at them.
Matt de la Peña is the New York Times best-selling, Newbery-medal-winning author of six young adult novels and four picture books. Matt received his MFA in creative writing from San Diego State University and his BA from the University of the Pacific, where he attended school on a full athletic scholarship for basketball. de la Peña currently lives in Brooklyn, NY. He teaches creative writing and visits high schools and colleges throughout the country.
The human brain loves to form assumptions because long ago that adaptive quality could potentially lead to enduring survival. When Homo sapiens were tromping about 250,000 years ago, the ability to size up a potential friend or foe instantaneously could mean the difference between life or death. But what serves you well in the ancient plains, running from a lion, does not serve you particularly well when making snap judgments in the 21st century. We form instant thoughts and feelings about the strangers that surround us based on the most superfluous of things. We don’t just do it to people either. We might do it to books. We might . . . ah . . . we might do it to a certain book that’s sitting on my lap right now. You see I haven’t always (how do I put this?) felt the full weight of the Robinson/de la Peña partnership’s charm offensive. Last Stop on Market Street and Carmela Full of Wishes struck me as good dry runs. Strong running leaps towards something that they never quite reached. But now, looking at Milo Imagines the World I know what they were leaping for. Milo combines the messaging of those other two books with a gut punch ending and a slow sinking in of the story at its core. Smart and sweet, it could teach you a thing or two about false conclusions. I can attest to that.
Milo and his older sister are taking their monthly Sunday subway ride. On the train there are a variety of different fellow riders, like the businessman with the blank lonely face or the woman in a wedding dress with a pup in her handbag. To distract himself from what he's now feeling, Milo draws the lives of the people around him. Maybe that bride is off to her wedding. Maybe that boy in a suit has servants and gourmet crust-free sandwich squares waiting for him at home. But if this is what Milo thinks of these people, what must they assume about him? It really isn’t until Milo sees that the boy in the suit is going to the same place that he is that he starts to rethink things. The stories he made up earlier shift and grow kinder. And then, there’s his mom. It’s visiting hours at her correctional facility, and Milo shows her one picture he doesn’t want to change: The three of them eating ice cream on a stoop on a beautiful summer day.
Milo isn’t the first picture book one might encounter about having an incarcerated parent by a long shot. What makes it stand out is the simple fact that Milo’s mom isn’t the focus of the book and merely supports its message. Other books like Visiting Day by Jacqueline Woodson or A Card for My Father by Samantha Thornhill, or Hazelnut Days by Emmanuel Bourdier all zero in squarely on the relationship between the child and the parent. Milo takes this a step further. It moves away from the uniqueness of the situation, instead focusing on the near normality of visiting an imprisoned mom. This is just a part of Milo’s life and he’s now reaching the age when you begin to put the pieces together that shape your world. He’s realizing that even the simple act of assigning subway strangers different roles means falling back on a simplistic narrative. It’s only when he begins to rework his own assumptions about the other boy on the subway car that he’s able to also rework the other stories he drew as well. Marvelously, the book shows us in a clear cut way how one person can be challenged by their own assumptions and how that change gives them new eyes on the world.
Much of this credit falls on Matt’s text. If Last Stop on Market Street was focused on public transportation in the form of a bus, Milo Imagines the World prefers public transportation in the form of a subway car. That makes a lot of sense too. Subway car rides are relatively smooth so it’s not hard to draw. You can interact more easily with strangers on a subway car than a bus too. And since most of the action in this story is on that train, the book takes on the feeling of a one-act play. Milo must, with minimal human interactions, come to a complex understanding of how the human mind works and how he personally (and through him, the child reader) can take steps to avoid its tricks and traps. I liked too the fact that we’re seeing the world through Milo’s filter, and the minimal dialogue is a boon to Matt’s writing. It allows the reader the chance to concentrate on the writing, particularly when Matt gets to describe one of Milo’s scenes. For example, the man in the green hat lives in a fifth floor walk-up where, “Parakeets tweet songs of longing as the man sips tepid soup, hunched over a game of solitaire.” Later he watches the little boy ahead of him in line go through the metal detector. “Milo studies the boy in the suit, his dad rubbing his thin shoulders.” And then, the revelation that is so simple you’d think even grown-ups would get it: “Maybe you can’t really know anyone just by looking at their face.” Maybe.
I used to live in Manhattan. Lived there eleven years or so, and over the years I’ve seen an awful lot of picture books set there. For whatever reason, you can always tell when a book set in New York is made by someone who has never lived there or hasn’t lived there in years. Yep, I always peer extra closely at any book that lays claim to NYC as its location. Now Matt’s a Brooklyn man and it shows. The New York he writes about here has all the discomfort and wonder and casual peculiarities of the city. Sitting on the subway you might definitely see a bride with blue hair holding a pole. And when she disembarks the buskers would most certainly burst out with a rendition of “Here Comes the Bride,” absolutely! But Christian on the other hand lives in what I believe is Northern California. In other words, the antithesis of the Big Apple itself. Is it apparent on the page? Well, I appreciated that he used a real subway system (the 4,5, 6) and that made me want to figure out where Milo’s mom is being held. But the Bayview Correctional Facility is closer to the C and E trains, so I for a second there I thought maybe that this book was way off base. That is UNTIL I noticed that Milo and his sister get off of an A train at their last stop, so that may mean they transferred somewhere and the A train is running on the C line. But even basic logistics aside, look at the detail work here. The rivets on the painted metal pillars in the subway stations. The raised yellow circles on the edges of the platform. You’d never guess Christian didn’t live in NYC for years and years. He has an eye for authenticity and detail that does a reader proud. He even put Starbucks coffee cups on the ground outside of the garbage cans. Could anything be more New York than that?
Please bear in mind too that what Christian Robinson does with his acrylic pants and collages and digital art is exceedingly difficult. He must use all his skills to render something simply. Which is to say, he has to take complex visuals and simplify them to the point where brushstrokes can convey a slice of an entire city. Now that’s a challenge, but one that Christian is fairly used to at this point. They don’t hand you Caldecott and Coretta Scott King Honors for just being a nice guy (which, by all accounts, he is). What makes this book different is that he is also put in the position of having to draw what Milo is drawing. That’s right. He has to make art that looks like a kid would make it. AND he has to make that art significantly different from his own. So what does he do? He doubles down on that simplicity I was talking about earlier. No paints, just what appears to be crayons and colored pencils (though those aren’t listed on the publication page, so I guess they’re all digital too). And then on top of all that, he’s gotta make one of Milo’s drawings carry the emotional weight of the final wordless image of the book. Some folks prefer Christian’s work when it gets all fancy. I prefer it when it becomes as simple as can be.
Did you notice that when we’re looking at the cover, at the publication and title page, and under the book’s jacket at the physical book itself, Christian Robinson puts us into Milo’s mind, seeing the things he’s imagining everywhere? Yet when the book's story starts up you’re outside of Milo and the world shifts back to normality. I was staring under the jacket of this book for a while when it occurred to me that the best picture books, the ones that really get under your skin (and that apparently give me roundabout 1,371 words of praise with which to write reviews) are ineffable. You can’t really define what it is about them that makes them work as well as they do. The elements at work in Milo Imagines the World should, potentially, work for any number of books out there. Instead, this is the book that I continue to think about long after I’ve put it down or read it to my kids. The internet, that brain outside our brains, relies so heavily on snap judgments. People are heroes or villains. The world is black or white. And all that complexity that makes up a human being gets ironed out on the digital page. Sometimes, it’s the picture books that prove to be the best corrective. Read this book to a child when you yourself need to remember that the world is full of horrible, wonderful, complicated people and that there are millions of their stories out there just waiting to be learned.
When people look down their noses at academics who study children’s literature because it isn’t literary or highbrow enough, books like MILO IMAGINES THE WORLD are the perfect example that children’s literature is literary, layered, complex, and worthy of study — while also being really beautiful and necessary storytelling for children to experience.
In MILO IMAGINES THE WORLD, he is on a long subway ride with his sister and he is very nervous about the destination in which he is going. To pass the time, he observes the people around him and draws stories that he imagines their lives to be. At the end of the book the reader discovers where he was going that made him so nervous and excited. While the story is certainly a social commentary, it is not didactic or preachy and it will certainly elicit great classroom discussion about assumptions and judgments we make about people.
With the suspension of the Goodreads Choice 2021 Picture Book category, I was of mixed feelings; first, my family yearly rates all the nominees, but we had in recent years been less impressed with the nominees (which Rod Brown found were often published by Amazon subsidiaries). So I consulted a couple sources for likely Caldecott Award nominees, and I asked a few people to read them with me; in general they are so much better than, for instance, last year’s GR bunch. As my kids get older, they have mostly dropped out of the reading, but I still have anywhere from 2-4 readers with me this year.
#1o is “Milo Imagines the World,” by Matt de la Pena and illustrated byChristian Robinson. Milo draws people on a bus, and imagines what people are like, but in order to do that you really have to get to know them.
R (retired librarian): (3 stars). Language too sophisticated for the age of the child, Milo. Imagination also too advanced. Book could be shortened and still get concept across.
T (electrician): (4 stars). I guess I liked it. Surprise ending--I was wondering where it was going.
Dave (teacher) (3.5 stars). Two rock star artists collaborate, but as with all of de la Pena’s picture book work (he also does YA, that I am more familiar with and like better), this is too long, has too many words for what it needs. But good commentary on the limits of the imagination; you have to dig deeper to really know someone, but will kids at this age really be able to appreciate this point? Art leans to being consistent with kid art. Robinson is great.
Milo is riding the subway with his sister. We don't know where they are going, but it is a weekly trip that takes a long time. Along the way he imagines the lives of fellow passengers and draws pictures of them -- going home to their pets, living in a castle, getting married, etc. Perhaps first impressions do not always give us an accurate picture. . . Where are Milo and his sister going? I will leave that for you to discover via the words and picture of the 'Last Stop On Market Street' creators. If you loved that one, this one will also be a winner.
Thank you to G.P. Putnam's Sons and Edelweiss+ for a DRC in exchange for an honest review.
I MEAN, we knew it would be good, but DAMN. Really subtle incorporation of an incarcerated parent, which is very rare in children's lit, gorgeous art, emotional narrative arc. Fantastic. *I received a free e-ARC from Edelweiss+ in exchange for an honest review.*
We’ve all done it. Made up stories of the people around us as we move through the day. Like where do the women work sitting two tables over from you at lunch? Maybe a castle made out of grilled cheese sandwiches! Or what about the pet hair you noticed on the guy standing in front of you at the bank…what kind of pet is it? Cat, dog, or maybe a llama? :) We all create stories in our heads.
This book is Milo’s imagination at play as he travels with his sister on the train one day. He imagines where his fellow passengers are going and who or what might be there when they arrive. Plus, we're wondering where Milo is going and why.
In the end, Milo and each and every reader just might realize….
“Maybe you can’t really know anyone just by looking at their face.”
I read this book a couple of years ago and loved it. Over the weekend, I stumbled across the audio and loved it even more. Dion Graham’s voice was perfect! The story and train and lesson come alive in the air as he reads.
How much can you tell about someone by the way they look? As Milo and his sister take the subway together, Milo distracts himself from his worries about their errand by drawing pictures about the people he sees on the train. When they get off and get into line at the prison to visit their mother, Milo spies one of the boys he saw on the train and realizes that his drawing was completely wrong. Maybe he needs to reimagine the drawings in his sketchbook.
This is a powerful story about the judgments we make about others and trying to see the world from another's point of view. A must for library and home bookshelves.
I have learned to expect the exceptional when Matt de la Peña and Christian Robinson collaborate, and that feeling is justified in Milo Imagines the World. Simple word rhythms and pictures combine with a solid philosophical foundation to offer a story about living every day in a world of unknowns. Milo is excited and uneasy when he and his big sister board the underground train on a Sunday for their monthly ride. He's "a shook-up soda", a frothy swirl of nervous energy and eagerness for the visit ahead. During the ride there, he observes his fellow passengers—men, women, and kids he's never seen and may never again—and draws pictures of what their lives may be like. Why are they on the underground today? Are they going for a visit? Or to work? Are they headed home? Milo's pencil speculates across the page, distracting him from the moment ahead in his own life.
The whiskery man seated next to Milo concentrates hard on a crossword puzzle. Is he a lonely bachelor with only cats and other animals to keep him company in his dingy apartment? A blue-eyed boy in an expensive suit and white shoes boards the train; he seems like a kid without any real problems, his every whim attended to by butlers or maids. Surely his life is defined by privilege. Then there's the woman in a wedding dress, who stands alone until she makes her Midtown exit. Milo fantasizes she is about to meet her groom for a picturesque wedding, and then disappear together into the sky in a hot air balloon. When a crew of break dancers boards the train and puts on an extemporaneous show for the passengers, Milo figures they will move on to other parts of the city and repeat the performance...but he also imagines them encountering people who prejudge them as hoodlums. Milo doesn't like to think about that; he quickly puts the picture away.
Milo gazes at his chocolate-brown reflection in the train window and wonders: what assumptions do strangers make about him? Do they see the complexity of his family situation and relationships, or do their narratives reduce him to nothing more than a kid of color living in the big city? As Milo and his sister exit the underground, he notes that at least one of the stories he created about his fellow passengers was dead wrong, and he ponders that as they pass through the metal detector for their scheduled visit. What direction will Milo's life take in the days and years ahead? Stories are complicated things, and Milo is beginning to absorb that truth on a deep level.
I love the line about Milo being a "shook-up soda"; that description of when you're about to engage with something that makes you nervous and excited, full of love, confusion, upset, and expectation all at once, really resonates. I have had seasons of life when a regularly recurring event had me feeling that way, so filled with anticipation I could hardly stand it, but with trepidation mixed in. When you look forward to an event for so long, how do you cope after the moment comes and goes, leaving you empty as the long countdown to next time starts again? And what if the big day doesn't go as hoped, and disappointment sits afterward like a rock in your stomach? Can you bear the bitterness of unmet expectations for an event that meant so much to you? Milo needs something to pull his mind away from these worries as he rides the underground, and he uses his imagination to find that something.
We all distract ourselves from life's anxieties by telling ourselves stories about the people we interact with, whether we know them well or are virtual strangers. We project our own motivations and values on them so their actions make sense to us, assigning them roles as heroes or villains, enablers or obstacles. Of course, the narratives we assign are swayed by our personal biases. Maybe the grumpy-looking man isn't alone in the world; he might have a family who loves him dearly, and he's just having a sour day. Perhaps the break dancers don't face discrimination because of their skin color and clothes. Maybe the boy who seems wealthy and without a care in the world is actually in the same situation you are, a shook-up soda nervous about what the coming hours will bring. This is Milo's epiphany moment in the book: "And a thought occurs to him: Maybe you can't really know anyone just by looking at their face." We tell ourselves stories about the people around us, there's no changing that. But instead of forcing the stories to confirm larger narratives we already believe, it's healthy to let some threads run counter to expectation; that's how we remain open to changing our minds. Grappling with story is challenging when it detours from our comfort zone, but it's the only way we learn from our mistakes and improve going forward.
For both pictures and words, Milo Imagines the World is a beautiful book. The final illustration melds the two perfectly: it's the picture Milo drew to show the life he and his sister had and loved not so long ago. When we're suffering the consequences of our own foolish actions, misery stretching day after day whether our prison has bars or not, we need assurance that someone remembers the happiness we had together, and is looking forward to resuming it as soon as possible. Hope illuminates the heart and provides reason to stay on the straight and narrow, and this feeling is captured in the double-page illustration that ends Milo Imagines the World. Matt de la Peña and Christian Robinson may be best known for Last Stop on Market Street, winner of the 2016 Newbery Medal, but this book is just as praiseworthy, maybe more. It could do young readers a lot of good.
This picture book was excellent! It turned out to be a much deeper book than I had expected. It also has amazing illustrations courtesy of Christian Robinson (who illustrated another favorite picture book of mine, Carmela Full of Wishes). But this book's environment felt authentic and almost like you were with Milo and his big sister the entire time. It also had a thought-provoking ending (which can be a hit or miss with picture books meant for children) that left me thinking afterwards.
Already we have a picture book who is a contender to be my favorite picture book of 2021. Go read it!
3.5 stars, the talented Matt de la Pena and Christian Robinson team up in this story about Milo who passes the time on the subway drawing pictures of what he imagines the lives of other riders to be. Some sad, some happy, some larger than life. But what about Milo and his sister? What are there lives like outside the subway? Why are they on the subway, where are they going? Readers will enjoy guessing what Milo's story is until the very end.
Wow. I could tell from the beginning that I was going to love this, but that ending was really powerful. Sometimes picture books with a deep/heavy message come across too didactic and don't actually make and enjoyable story for the kids who are supposed to be the audience. But this was SOO well-done. Milo anxiously rides the subway and imagines the lives of the people around him. He likes to draw the stories he comes up with his head, and to do so he tends to make assumptions about people, as we all tend to do. When he arrives at his destination and sees that one of the other little boys from the train is there too (spoiler alert: they both have incarcerated parents), he recognizes that the stories of people around us may not always be what they seems. LOVE THIS BOOK and expect it to be very popular. (Also love the art style)
Thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for this eARC in exchange for my honest review.
From the wonderful team that brought happiness in their books Last Stop on Market Street and Carmela Full of Wishes comes Milo, on a subway trip with his sister, imagining the people on the train and parts of their lives. He has a sketchbook and a vivid imagination. There's a whiskered man, a boy in a suit, a wedding-dressed woman, others, too. Milo's sister (older) is playing a game on her phone while Milo sketches stories for the people. There is an epiphany at the end, of Milo's and of mine. Christian Robinson's mixed-media illustrations are wonderful and his creations for Milo's drawings, well, they're like a young child's, crayon-drawn with some detail that shows the stories in his head. We really cannot always know all the life by looking at faces, can we? You'll love Milo and his sister, as Matt de la Pena shows in his story. they're both "shook-up sodas".
De la Peña and Robinson never disappoint me, but they’ve truly endeared themselves to me with this picture book. On one level, it’s about a little boy visiting his incarcerated mother. This theme resonates with me because I volunteer with a program that mentors kids like Milo. I’m always touched to hear their stories told with empathy and compassion. This team does just that.
The text is gorgeous, of course. De la Peña was first published as a YA novelist, but I think he really shines as a picture book author. His text poetically evokes emotions and scenes, as well as the beauty of everyday life. Robinson’s art brings out these qualities, using mixed media collage to convey the richness of daily experiences.
While on a subway with his big sister, Milo draws pictures of what he thinks his fellow passengers will be doing when they get off. And then, Milo notices that one of his assumptions was way off base, and reimagines a different scenario. De la Pena tells a smart story of Milo's observations while Christian does beautiful work illustrating the story as well as Milo's childlike drawings. All of it is pitch perfect in its authenticity and affirming message: "Maybe you can't really know anyone just by looking at their face." Another fabulous collaboration that is sensitive yet powerful in its storytelling. Also don't miss Milo's drawings on the book cover under the dust jacket!
This book is really fantastic: great story details, awesome art by Christian Robinson, and even some character development as it leads into a brother and sister visiting their incarcerated mom.
This beautiful book from the dynamo team behind Last Stop on Market Street have batted another one clean out of the park.
Milo and his sister get on the subway early one morning and Milo passes the time watching the people around him. As he looks at each one he imagines the lives they lead and draws them in his sketchbook. The woman in the white tulle dress must be going to a wedding! The sad looking man is probably heading to a lonely apartment where he'll eat canned soup all alone. The blond haired, blue eyed boy in the seat opposite him is surely going to a castle where he'll be waited on hand and foot.
But when Milo and his sister arrive at their stop, a place Milo is both longing to get to and afraid to enter, he sees that the well dressed little boy is going to the same place! Maybe it doesn't matter how he's dressed or what color his skin is. Is it possible that looks don't necessarily tell you everything you need to know about someone else's story?
We read this book aloud at bedtime and I'm glad I paged through it first mainly because bursting into tears in front of the boys tends to do the opposite of get them ready to sleep. Seriously though I'm glad I did because this is a lovely book, beautiful to look at and full of Milo's joyful, crayon scribbled pictures but it is also a heartbreaker. Why exactly that is can be found under the spoiler tag and I would recommend, just for the sake of being prepared for questions, that you check it out.
We are none of us one story. We aren't the clothes we wear or the colors we dye our hair or the music we listen to or the color of our skin or the language we speak. Those things are part of us but they aren't who we are. We have to remember that when we meet each other in the world and we have to get better at seeing with more than just our eyes.
I would like everyone I know, whether you've got little ones or not, to read this book. Matt de la Pena's writing is simply beautiful, Milo's voice is worldly wise and innocent, a smart boy who's grown up more than he should have to who sees such beauty in the world even while riding the dirty old subway. de la Pena's descriptions of that subway and its passengers so vividly conjure up images of NYC I was reminded almost too strongly of my long ago morning commute. Christian Robinson's illustrations are the perfect pairing to those words. He draws the subway and streets of New York teaming with life and color and soul. The distinction between the "real" world and Milo's drawings is also cleverly handled. He really grasps the child like sort of scrawl that you'd expect from a young child.
Milo and his sister are like “shook up sodas” as they ride the subway to their destination (unknown until the end of the book and the reason Milo is a shook up soda). Milo studies the people on the subway and imagines their lives—some living sad lives, or living in luxury, but something unexpected happens that causes him to rethink the lives he’s assigned to his fellow riders. The alternatives are interesting and creative. De la Peña’s language is evocative and Milo’s imagination is rich with nuance and food for thought.
Once again, awed by a collaboration of Matt de la Peña and Christian Robinson. The jaw-dropping artwork of Robinson is so wholly inclusive, and I should not be surprised to see people of every shape, color, and ability because he is so inclusive in his work. But I still gasped, grinned, and cheered when I saw, on the subway platform, a child using a wheelchair. Milo Imagines the World is a beautiful story on its face. But it is the deeper lesson that will stick with me: do not presume to know a person by how they look or present. Every person’s story is so much more than what the window dressing shows.
Like I always do this time of year, I read #banned books. Why oh why this one is on the list is beyond me. Milo is a kid traveling on the subway with his sister and what we see are his imaginations. I had no idea his destination and sadly, I didn't see the art work in this children's book, but the message.... It was loud and it was powerful. I felt it deep in my bones. Not all kids lives are perfect...and I felt that.
“Excitement stacked on top of worry on top of confusion on top of love.”
Perspective, people watching, & a subway ride full of unique characters; Dynamic duo Matt de la Peña & Christian Robinson have given us another book full of color & community in Milo Imagines the World!
The award winning duo behind Last Stop On Market Street and Carmella Full of Wishes, Matt de la Peña and Christian Robinson, are back at it with their latest release, Milo Imagines The World.
In this book, we follow a young boy named Milo as he and his older sister take their monthly Sunday subway ride to visit their mother.
As we follow Milo on his commute, he observes the people around him and draws their lives as he imagines them to be. In Milo’s drawings, a young boy in a suit becomes a prince and a woman in a wedding dress marries a man who whisks her away in a hot air balloon.
I don’t want to give away the ending, but I will say that as Milo reaches his destination, he is surprised to find the young boy in the suit is going to the very same place as Milo and his sister. That’s how he learns that we can’t really know anyone just by looking at them, and is inspired to reimagine all of his drawings.
Inspired by Christian Robinson’s childhood experiences, Milo Imagines The World is a beautiful story that reminds us all not to judge a book by its cover. The lyrical text encourages us to practice understanding and love before judgement. I have a feeling this one will be an instant classic, and I can’t recommend it enough.
I think my favorite part has to be Christian Robinson’s illustrations! I especially love Milo’s drawings, the way they provide depth to Milo as a character by giving us a look into his internal monologue and his understanding of the world around him.
I also want to extend a HUGE thank you to G. P. Putnam’s Sons for proving me with a review copy of Milo Imagines The World. This is one I will keep coming back to for years to come with my little one.
Matt de la Peña and Christian Robinson are my favorite storytelling team. Absolutely stellar on their own, when they choose to create a story together it is beyond magic. They simply GET people and, most importantly, that kids are people, too. Balancing hard emotions with the whimsy of childhood opens up a soft space for adults and children to share moments about what it means to SEE other people for who they are, the perceptions we carry and implicit bias that tags along, while weaving in a rich story of love and compassion familiar to so many families in the US.
Milo, as an artist, observes everyone as he takes the subway in New York with his sister. These observations become imaginings and Robinson, with his incredible detail, depicts Milo’s imaginings of those he sees in crayon so it stands out separately from the acrylic paint and mixed media collage of Milo’s journey. There is so much to see on Milo’s journey and it isn’t until the end that the reader discovers he is visiting his mother with his older sister - a mother who is incarcerated. Two other passengers from the subway are there for the same reason, which causes Milo to reconsider his imaginings and own instinctive bias.
Neither the words nor art are heavy-handed or moralistic, but breathe gently across the pages like Milo’s own imagination. This is a must have for every library and a must read for every child. Highly recommended.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The dynamic duo team up once more to share the inner thoughts of a young artist capturing the world as he rides the New York City subway. Milo has a bag of crayons and a gigantic imagination. When Milo reaches his final destination I actually gasped. I am certain there will be many children who read this book who will feel seen and validated...they will see themselves in Milo. I read Last Stop on Market Street first and then Milo...I hope these two continue to work together. I like the characters they create...the bright and colorful world they share with the reader. Waiting for whatever they have planned next.