top of page
Queen on Wednesday Gabi Swiatkowska.
Publishers Weekly . FSG/Foster, $17.99 (40p) ISBN 978-0-374-37446-4 “Nothing had happened since Sunday,” Swiatkowska (Please, Papa) writes, painting dark-haired Thelma staring vacantly off into space. On Wednesday, Thelma does what any girl would—she dons the hoop skirt and starched ruffles of a Spanish infanta and proclaims herself queen. With charming imperiousness, Thelma recruits a troupe of sailor-suited boys to serve as her retinue and selects the royal pets, who pop up comically in odd places. Things soon go amiss, and Swiatkowska paints the chaos in a set of formal, oval-framed vignettes. One boy puzzles over the remains of a chandelier that’s been ripped out of the ceiling, while another peers through a telescope at a clogged toilet. As time goes on, the faces of Thelma’s apple-cheeked boy followers show impatience, torpor, and sheer contempt, but the paintings are never exaggerated; they have the quiet authority of Audubon bird portraits. At last the charm of ruling palls for Thelma: “ ‘That’s it!’ she cried. She flung off her royal crown and stomped away.” A witty and eccentric portrait of ego run wild. Ages 3–8. Agent: Emily van Beek, Folio Literary Management. (May)
Kirkus . Nothing has happened to Thelma since Sunday. Now it’s Wednesday and, bored, she decides to become a queen. Initially, Thelma’s preoccupied with announcing her royal status, selecting “royal pets,” posing for a “royal photograph,” and finding assistants and the carriage she now needs. On Saturday, she’s busy looking for a “proper castle” and a “royally qualified” maid and animal trainer. By the time Sunday rolls around again, Thelma’s faint from hunger as she lacks a “royal cook.” Monday, she needs to find an electrician, a veterinarian and a plumber, plus a nurse for the “royal headache” she’s developed. By Tuesday, Thelma tosses away her crown and returns to being a bored little girl. Prominently featured in large, variably sized and placed type, the droll text is cleverly integrated into sophisticated paint-and-pencil illustrations that conjure a surreal, tongue-in-cheek atmosphere. Dressed in Victorian apparel and wearing priceless, oh-so-bored expressions, wide-eyed Thelma and her imaginary assistants engage in peculiar, pointless activities amid mysterious, undefined venues, contributing brilliantly to the overall ennui. Imaginative illustrations fuel this playful exploration of juvenile boredom.
bottom of page