The New York Times Book Review - Nicole Lamy
Cuevas's prose is laden with gems…gorgeous sentences as precious as the messages themselves. Beauty shines through a fog of sadness…Erin E. Stead's tender illustrations match the spare, moody story. Colorsthe tawny body of a cat, the red of the man's Cousteau-esque knit capbloom within Stead's whispery pencil drawings…Under the dark surface of The Uncorker of Ocean Bottles the outline of friendship appears and a welcoming community rises.
Publishers Weekly
★ 06/06/2016
The eccentric seaman of the title lives alone in a tumbledown beach cottage: “He had no name. He had no friends. He stank of seaweed,” writes Cuevas (Confessions of an Imaginary Friend). By bringing the messages he finds floating in bottles on the waves to nearby villagers, his life gains meaning. Some messages are “written by a quill dipped in sadness,” while others “made people quite happy, for a letter can hold the treasure of a clam-hugged pearl.” One day he uncorks an invitation to a seashore party. No one claims it, but when he ventures shyly to the beach, those he has served serenade him; he even tries dancing. Caldecott Medalist Stead’s (A Sick Day for Amos McGee) ethereal spreads give the characters distinctive, captivating personalities. In one, the Uncorker sits at his table in his fisherman’s cap, lost in a dream; in another, an older woman closes her eyes, transported with joy by the letter she receives. The underlying message about learning to see the worth of every person is a treasure. Ages 4–8. Agent: Emily van Beek, Folio Literary Management. (Aug.)
From the Publisher
Praise for The Uncorker of Ocean Bottles
TIME Top 10 Children's Books of 2016
People Magazine Best Children's Books of 2016
School Library Journal Best Books of 2016
Boston Globe Best Books of 2016
“Cuevas’s prose is laden with gems . . . gorgeous sentences as precious as the messages themselves. Beauty shines through a fog of sadness . . . Colors—the tawny body of a cat, the red of the man’s Cousteau-esque knit cap—bloom with Stead’s whispery pencil drawings.”—The New York Times Book Review
“Erin Stead’s illustrations are as softly scuffed as sea glass and so suffused with wistfulness that readers ages 4-8 may feel pensive before they’ve embarked on the story.
Michelle Cuevas has reworked a historical curiosity—an official job, in Elizabethan England, of opening bottles that might contain naval secrets—into a contemporary tale of longing and consolation.”—The Wall Street Journal
* "Readers will find both consolation and encouragement on every visit to this emotionally resonant, evocative story."—Kirkus, starred review
* "Stead's characters exude an endearing vulnerability and quirky charm. . . . A perfect pairing of text and art. Share this quiet story with your wishers and dreamers."—School Library Journal, starred review
* "Caldecott Medalist Stead's ethereal spreads give the characters distinctive, captivating personalities. . . . The underlying message about learning to see the worth of every person is a treasure."—Publishers Weekly, starred review
School Library Journal
12/01/2016
K-Gr 2—Every day at the seashore, a man works at a lonely job: finding glass bottles and traveling great distances to deliver the messages they contain. Then he finds a mysterious party invitation, and while attending the event, he discovers connection and community. The heart-tugging, contemplative story is extended in Stead's dreamy, poignant illustrations, which evoke both the foggy landscape and the vulnerable charm of the characters. A perfect pairing of text and art.
Kirkus Reviews
★ 2016-05-18
A man who delivers messages sent via ocean bottle longs for a message of his own.With his pale skin and expressive eyebrows, the otherwise nameless Uncorker of Ocean Bottles, a white man who could be any age from young adult to elderly, is the very picture of quiet, determined, and lonely. How he came by his job isn't told, but it is clear he takes it seriously, understanding the importance of the communications he brings. Cuevas' poetic language plays with meter and words, as when he contemplates the improbability of receiving a message of his own: "But he still would have liked it just the same." Stead's illustrations in woodblock, oil pastels, and pencil seem to enfold her subject. His cat comes along on some of his missions, while various birds of sea and shore appear along his way like guiding spirits in the sun or rain or snow. When a message—an invitation to a party at the seashore—arrives with no definite sender or recipient, the Uncorker shares it with several people—and then goes himself. The people of the town, dark- and white-skinned neighbors gathered on the beach, suggest a community that perhaps already knows and certainly embraces him. Readers will find both consolation and encouragement on every visit to this emotionally resonant, evocative story. (Picture book. 3-8)