FROM THE CRITICS

Publishers Weekly

The fabled fools of Chelm turn out in full force, demonstrating their fractured faculties for deduction in this folktale. Mendel, a peasant, yearns to travel and finally sets off toward the big city, Warsaw. Along the way, he stops for a nap. Worried that he'll forget which way he is heading, he removes his boots and points their toes in the direction he needs to go. While he sleeps, however, a shepherd stops to inspect the boots and turns them around. When Mendel resumes his journey and winds up in Chelm, he refuses to believe that he isn't in Warsaw and vows never to travel again: "If one place is exactly like every other place, one might as well just stay put," he concludes. Readers who appreciate skewed logic will find plenty of amusement in this rustic story, which uses a few colloquialisms for a Yiddish flavor ("Ach, he's completely meshugga!" Mendel's wife exclaims). Metaphorical illustrations, as off-balance as Mendel's reasoning, take archetypes into consideration. Clement paints Mendel the dreamer as a pale, bearded giant with his head literally in the clouds, and uses giant imagery again on the road to Warsaw, where grassy hills blanket huge, sleeping men and women. These imaginative pictures portray Mendel as Everyman, complete with humble origins and stubborn silliness. Ages 4-8. (Apr.)

School Library Journal

K-Gr 2A retelling of a classic Chelm story in which Mendel, a villager, dreams of going to Warsaw. Carefully positioning his boots in the right direction, he stops to take a nap but ends up back in Chelm after a passing shepherd turns the boots in the opposite direction. Mendel is convinced that he has found a new Chelm in which everyone resembles the people he knows. A careful comparison to Isaac Singer's version in When Shlemeil Went to Warsaw & Other Stories (Farrar, 1986) reveals the problems with Clement's text. The language lacks the flavor and cadence of a good Yiddish translation, the humor is forced, and the resolution of the dilemma is lacking in delicious Old World absurdity. In addition, the use of "ach" instead of "oy" doesn't ring true to an ear accustomed to hearing Yiddish. The pen-and-ink and gouache illustrations recall the 1930's Soviet art movement and portray the gentle-minded Chelmites too harshly. Stick with Singer.Susan Pine, New York Public Library

Kirkus Reviews

Chelm, that village of "extremely silly" (as Clement words it) folk, is the setting of a splendidly idiotic tale of Mendel, a lazy man with his head literally in the clouds. After five pages of background (funny, but unnecessary) in the ways of Chelm, the real story gets under way: Mendel embarks on a journey to Warsaw, the city of his dreams. He takes time for a nap on the way, but points his shoes toward Warsaw so he won't forget which way he was walking. A would-be thief examines the shoes and replaces them, pointing Mendel toward home. This fool, believing he has arrived in Warsaw, is amazed to find things exactly as they were in Chelm (right down to the "twin" of his wife), and decides that "if one place is exactly like every other place, one might as well just stay put." Clement's witty illustrations depict Mendel sometimes towering over the village, sometimes in miniature among giants, always slightly dazed.