Boy Here, Boy There

Starred review from August 15, 2024
A simple gesture vividly and profoundly transforms a Neanderthal boy's life. The child travels in search of shelter with his family. They find a cave, set up a hearth for cooking, and then rest. Meanwhile, the boy wistfully peers out from the cave at the vast valley outside. Before long, he's off exploring--running, jumping, and rolling down hills with a joyous expression that will be familiar to contemporary children. An unseen narrator describes his journey with an infectious staccato cadence, drawing comparisons: "Trees big, / boy small. / Boy big, / crawler small." These likenesses propel the narrative, as in this description of birds, woolly mammoths, and the boy: "Feathers in sky. / Feathers in hair. // Big hairies there. / Little hairy here." Later, the child gazes across a river ("Boy here") and sees another boy ("Boy there")--a different kind of boy, aHomo sapiens. TheHomo sapiensboy waves to the Neanderthal, and this seemingly small act seals their fateful encounter. A full-page spread sets the boys' brown faces side by side, illustrating how much they share even though they are of different species. This affirming tale of connection is a superb marriage of text and visuals; Groenik's muted colors, soft rounded panels, images of caves backlit by fire, wordless spreads, and endearing facial expressions throughout culminate in a resplendent final scene that sees the Neanderthal boy returning home and memorializing his experience by making art that will reverberate through archeological history. A lyrical and beautifully imagined prehistoric encounter. (author's note, sources)(Picture book. 3-7)

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Starred review from August 19, 2024
As outlined in an author’s note, Groenink (Mum, Me, and the Mulberry Tree) creates a story about a connective moment in human prehistory: contact between Homo neanderthalensis and Homo sapiens. In opening pages, a small band of animal-skin-wearing Neanderthals, portrayed with light brown skin, arrive at a cave above a river valley. While most rest, a boy yearns to explore, this desire conveyed expressively through large, questioning eyes. Wildlife appears at comparative scales as the child ventures down to the river (“Trees big,/ boy small.// Boy big,/ crawler small”), and the text touches on species similarities (around a bear, “Berries for big growler,// berries for boy”). Arriving at the river, the child sees another boy, shown with dark brown skin, kneeling on the sand bank. The two stare at each other, their features mirrored (“Eyes here,/ nose, mouth there”). Then, with a wave, the second child and his Homo
sapiens cohort disappear into tall grass. That night, back at the cave, the Neanderthal youth commemorates the wave with a tangible memorial. It’s a contemplative telling that seeds rich conversations about connection across species and time, and about what it means to make art. Ages 3–7. Agent: Stephen Barr, Writers House.

September 1, 2024

K-Gr 3-A Neanderthal family, tired from their long journey, arrives at a mountain cave and begins to set up camp. The boy is not tired and the river valley below beckons. "Boy here, everywhere there, waiting for boy." Off he goes down toward the river. On the way he observes myriad flora and fauna: huge trees, little bugs, a bear, blueberries, caribou, birds, mammoths, and more. When he reaches the river's edge and looks across, he is surprised to see a boy (Homo Sapiens) who looks kind of like him. The boy and his family are equally surprised until "Strangers there, moving on. A hand is raised, and disappears." The first boy heads back up to his family where after dinner, the boy takes his ash-covered hand and raises it to the wall, leaving his handprint behind. Groenink's text is best described as poetry and, as such, this works best read aloud. The sparse text easily conveys meaning, but it's the beautiful and realistic illustrations that do the heavy lifting. From the lush landscape in panoramic view to up close with a baby mammoth, the feeling of nature is all around; a successful use of a variety of perspectives, varying illustration size, plus deliberate use of white space keeps it fresh and interesting. The characters are full of life with easily read facial expressions and body language. Back matter includes an author's note about Neanderthals and a list of resources. VERDICT This can be enjoyed with or without acknowledging the Neanderthal/Homo Sapien subtext, but either way it should be read aloud to make the most of the poetic text. A good choice for most libraries.-Catherine Callegari

Copyright 2024 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

October 15, 2024
Preschool-Grade 1 What was life like 45,000 years ago? Consider this day in the life of Boy, a bright-eyed, curious child who feels the pull of "there." As his family settles into a cave, Boy sets out on an adventure, encountering animals like crawlers, "big growlers," and "big hairies," and he comfortably joins right in with the animals he observes. What stops him in his tracks is seeing another boy, who is new and unnamed but seems familiar somehow. That night, he puts a handprint on the cave wall, echoing the silent wave the boys shared. The rudimentary text ("Bright river here. Boy close.") signals life in an era of proto--languages, but the exuberant illustrations make clear that although someone's language may be simple, their emotions and curiosity are not. Back matter explains this is an imagined first encounter between Neanderthals and Homo sapiens. The target audience (perhaps like the boys themselves) are unlikely to realize that the two characters are two different species, but they will nevertheless be drawn into this joyful, inquisitive imagining of prehistoric times.

COPYRIGHT(2024) Booklist, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

January 1, 2025
In luminous paintings and a spare, telegraphic text, Groenink tells the story of a brief encounter between a Neanderthal boy and a child of a different human species, perhaps Homo sapiens. Snub-nosed "boy" wanders away from his cave and family, down the mountain to a river valley, where he glimpses another boy on the far bank, a stranger. Their eyes meet. Back home that night, "boy," remembering how the other human raised his hand in greeting, presses a sooty handprint onto the cave wall. The pared-down text, built from pairs of contrasts -- here/there, behind/ahead, alone/together, far/close, standing/moving -- packs the emotional punch of poetry. The illustrations, as lush as the text is restrained, glow with golden light and their own set of opposites: dim cave and sun-infused valley, an aerial view down the cliffs to the river, the view from the ground up into the high tree canopy. The message here, entirely unstated but unmistakable, involves a benign portrait of our human encounters with the "other" and our need to tell stories. In this lovely offering, "boy" joins such other classic Stone Age heroes as Tankard's Edwin from Me Hungry! and Briggs's Ug from Ug: Boy Genius of the Stone Age (rev. 11/02). An author's note and a list of scholarly sources remind readers of the dynamism and excitement of the field of archaeology. Sarah Ellis

(Copyright 2025 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)

January 1, 2025
In luminous paintings and a spare, telegraphic text, Groenink tells the story of a brief encounter between a Neanderthal boy and a child of a different human species, perhaps Homo sapiens. Snub-nosed "boy" wanders away from his cave and family, down the mountain to a river valley, where he glimpses another boy on the far bank, a stranger. Their eyes meet. Back home that night, "boy," remembering how the other human raised his hand in greeting, presses a sooty handprint onto the cave wall. The pared-down text, built from pairs of contrasts -- here/there, behind/ahead, alone/together, far/close, standing/moving -- packs the emotional punch of poetry. The illustrations, as lush as the text is restrained, glow with golden light and their own set of opposites: dim cave and sun-infused valley, an aerial view down the cliffs to the river, the view from the ground up into the high tree canopy. The message here, entirely unstated but unmistakable, involves a benign portrait of our human encounters with the "other" and our need to tell stories. In this lovely offering, "boy" joins such other classic Stone Age heroes as Tankard's Edwin from Me Hungry! and Briggs's Ug from Ug: Boy Genius of the Stone Age (rev. 11/02). An author's note and a list of scholarly sources remind readers of the dynamism and excitement of the field of archaeology.

(Copyright 2025 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)