Some recent reviews...

The Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books: Georges and Cécile, the titular ducks, do not, in fact, hail from France, but they still like to think of themselves as French: “No one knows why (not even the ducks themselves), but that’s how it is.” The feathered siblings live in a canal in Venice, California, near their friend Polina Panova, who is neither a duck nor French, but rather a Russian human who the ducks happens to believe is a princess. “Princess” Polina lives a good life as a renowned seamstress and girlfriend to a filmmaker, until said filmmaker takes off and leaves Polina sad and lonely. Both the ducks want to cheer their friend, but while Cécile is quite certain only time will heal Polina’s broken heart, Georges is intent on hastening the process by getting the princess a perfect gift. Freymann-Weyr brings her characteristic eloquence with matters of the heart to the younger set here, and her silky, concise prose keeps the fanciful concept from becoming cutesy. Format-wise, this is a classic illustrated storybook with the trim size and artistic emphasis of a small picture book. Although the human figures are sometimes a bit stiff and Polina herself bears a striking resemblance to a Disney princess, the muted palette and gentle compositions of the digital illustrations offer a nice complement to the dreamy, romantic text. Youngsters may not fully understand the nature of Polina’s heartbreak, but they will certainly be able to relate to one of the three key players here, be it duck or human; Georges, in particular, is endearing both in the illustrations and the story, as his quizzical expression in the face of Polina’s grief conveys his utter bewilderment at his inability to fix her. This is a warm, touching tale that will have young princesses (and perhaps a few princes) looking for some feathered friends to call their own.

chasingray.com: Candlewick sent me a picture book a couple of weeks ago that fits into a narrow little niche of readers who are going to just love it: French Ducks in Venice by Garret Freymann-Weyr (illustrated by Erin McGuire). It reads initially (and purposely) as a modern day fairy tale - two ducks in Venice, California, enjoy the good life including the attention of nearby fashion designer Polina whose "prince" makes movies. Then the prince leaves and Polina is despondent and the ducks become quite concerned for their friend and suddenly this is not about a Disneyesque princess but something quite different and that is when I realized it also is not a picture book for three-year-olds who like pink covers but really for eleven-year-olds who are noticing that the other girls seem to be moving ahead in the romance department while they are trying to catch up.

Please girls, don't race to get to catch up - enjoy your childhoods!!!

French Ducks is the perfect tween romance for the tween who longs for romance but needs a little hint of how to cope with the loss of it while still keeping their heart set on the promise of it. (It's a subtle difference but Freyman-Weyr nails it.) (Oh - and it's also for tweens who don't require a tween heroine and don't mind talking ducks.) (A love of fashion would be a good thing though.)

I totally did not expect to find this offbeat story in this book but I'm delighted with such a nice surprise. Oh - and the illustrations are colorful and sweet and a bit Disneyesque but in a good way. I'm giving this one to my son's friend who is ten and already full of visions of make-up and pinkness and happily ever after. I want her to have her eyes open as she dreams of love (because love is wonderful but heartbreak not so much) and I think these two ducks might just be the ones to show her how to do that.

Amazon Best Children’s Books of the Month, December 2011: Illustrated in a style that is reminiscent of classic animated children’s films, French Ducks in Venice is a story of friendship, loyalty, loss, and healing, told with warmth and heart. A pair of ducks, Georges and Cécile, befriend a young dressmaker, Polina, who they call a “Russian princess” for her gowns made, not only of cotton and silk, but also “pieces of the night sky, and strawberry jam.” This princess has a prince, Sebastian, who makes her very happy, until one day he goes away--for good. The reader never learns why Sebastian went away, only that Polina is very sad as a result. The ducks bring Polina a gift of golden light from where the sea meets the sky, and with the passage of time she emerges from her sadness, a reassuring reminder of the endless opportunity for new beginnings and happiness. —Seira Wilson

Publishers Weekly: YA author Freymann-Weyr examines grief in her first picture book; a dusting of Hollywood glamour makes newcomer McGuire’s rich digital illustrations, which have the feel of concept art for an animated film, an inspired choice. The heroine, Polina Panova, is a lovely dressmaker in Venice, Calif., whose filmmaker boyfriend has left her. She’s bereft, and her friends Georges and Cécile, ducks who live in the canal behind her house, are indignant. “I will start looking for her new prince,” Georges announces. “Ducks do not find princes,” Cécile scolds. “Princesses find them.” Freymann-Weyr’s mannered narrative voice keeps emotions firmly in check (“This will not do,” are Georges’s harshest words), and her storytelling gifts are unmistakable: Polina’s dresses, she writes, are made with “grass, flowers, pieces of the night sky, and strawberry jam.” There’s virtue in presenting a portrait of loss with a spoonful of sugar; readers learn how to talk about hurt (“I will always be a little bit sad,” says Polina, explaining that time doesn’t erase pain completely), while McGuire’s cinematically lit pictures recall classic Disney images of winsome animals consoling star-crossed heroines. Ages 5–10. (Dec.)

Shelf Awareness: In this story of loss and healing through friendship and creativity, two French ducks stand in for children who may be processing similar changes in their own families.

Garret Freymann-Weyr, whose young adult novels (My Heartbeat, After the Moment) focus on a central event that results in the hero's maturity, here successfully translates her approach for a picture-book audience. For two French ducks living in Venice, California's canals, Polina Panova can do no wrong. She is, as Georges and Cécile (the French duck siblings) call her, "a Russian princess." She makes beautiful dresses in her canal-side bungalow, and adds to her fabrics a touch of "grass, flowers, pieces of the night sky, and strawberry jam." While Polina thinks her "prince" of a boyfriend, filmmaker Sebastian Sterling, makes her a princess, Georges and Cécile believe it's her dresses that grant her royal status. One day, Sebastian Sterling goes away, and suddenly Polina Panova is "a Russian princess without a prince." Georges becomes determined to find a present that will make Polina happy again. First-time artist Erin McGuire's artwork accentuates the ducks' idealized image of Polina with scenes that resemble animation stills of princess fairy tales. She endows the French ducks with personality and perfectly captures the Pacific light that dances on the Venetian canals at dawn. This gentle story delivers a realistic yet hopeful message. Polina does, with Georges's gift, continue to do what she loves--making dresses. Although the hole left by the absence of a loved one can never truly be filled, one can, by doing what gives life meaning, find moments of happiness. —Jennifer M. Brown, children's editor, Shelf Awareness

Secrets & Sharing Soda: Polina Panova is a seamstress who lives in Venice, California. Georges and Cecile are ducks who live on the canal outside Polina's door. They consider themselves to be French, and Polina to be a beautiful princess. Georges and Cecile also romanticize Polina's "prince," a movie star named Sebastian Sterling. One day, though, their romantic notions come crashing down when Sebastian announces that he must go, and leaves Polina behind. Georges, despite Cecile's disapproval, can't imagine how Polina will move on without Sebastian and begins immediately trying to mend Polina's broken heart. What he - as well as the reader - learn, however, is that healing takes time, and though we can become happy again, we never fully forget those we love and lose.

This modern fairy tale's important message works on a couple of levels. The first and most obvious interpretation is a challenge to the happily ever after motif popularized by the Disney princess franchise. Polina is a princess not just because she's pretty and has a handsome boyfriend. Rather, it is her talent as a dressmaker and her kindness toward her duck friends that truly define her. When Sebastian leaves, she is suitably sad, but there is never a moment where she grovels, begs, or even feels truly sorry for herself. She is willing to let go, and to allow herself to heal and move on. In a world where princesses almost always wind up married to princes, this book's focus on the princess as a person, rather than as a part of a romanticized pairing is a welcome and refreshing change.

The second interpretation of this story actually focuses more on the ducks, who I saw as the child characters of the story. Georges and Cecile love Polina, and they are confused and hurt when Sebastian, whom they previously trusted, hurts their beloved friend. They can't understand why Sebastian and Polina can't work things out, and they want to find the quick fix that will bring everything back to normal. In my mind, these feelings parallel the way children sometimes feel when parents divorce, or a parent's partner is suddenly out of the picture. Without being overly didactic, this book teaches children how to channel those feelings and provides the comforting reassurance that even when we lose someone we love, life goes on, as does happiness.

French Ducks in Venice is a book unlike any others I have read this year. It combines elements of fairy tale fantasy with the realities of loss and empathy, and creates this unique world where talking ducks make sense, and strawberry jam is the key to a beautiful dress. Erin McGuire's illustrations beautifully depict the environment of the canal. There are some truly gorgeous scenes featuring wide expanses of sea and sky that are so atmospheric I felt as though I could reach out and truly touch them. The ducks, though accurately drawn as ducks for the most part, also have these little sparks of personality in their eyes and beaks that bring them to life as characters and will keep kids interested even when Polina must deal with more adult issues. I also thought it was a really interesting choice on McGuire's part that she never shows Sebastian's face. This is one story that is not about the prince, and excluding his face from the illustrations really drives that point home, and focuses our attention where it belongs - on Polina's journey from disappointment to renewed happiness.

I think the audience for this book is slightly older than the average picture book reader. Girls who are interested in princesses will be drawn to it, but there is quite a bit of text, and kids with longer attention spans are the ones who will have the patience to listen to the full story, or to read it on their own. I would love to see this book used in classroom studies of fairy tales. There is a lot to be learned from the comparison of this book to other more common princess tales, and I think it's important for girls - and boys - of all ages to see a type of happily ever after that isn't perfect, but still has significance. I also think this book would be a wonderful gift for anyone who has been recently dumped. I was thinking as I was reading that this book would have been helpful after several of my own break-ups.