From Publishers Weekly
The "spare simplicity" of this tale about a Vietnamese refugee is "richly amplified by arresting, light-filled paintings," said PW in a starred review. Ages 6-10. Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From School Library Journal
Grade 2-5-- A nameless Vietnamese narrator tells of her grandmother who, as a girl, accidentally sees the last emperor cry on the day of his abdication. She surreptitiously enters the palace gardens and takes a lotus seed as a remembrance of that day and her ruler. She keeps the seed with her through vicissitudes of war, flight, and emigration until one summer a grandson (the narrator's brother) steals it and plants it in a mud pool near the family's American home. Grandmother is inconsolable when the exact spot cannot be found. The following spring, a lotus grows from the mud puddle and in time the elderly woman gives a seed to each of her grandchildren, reserving one for herself. The narrator vows to plant hers one day, give the seeds to her own children, keep the tradition, and share her grandmother's memories. This tale of hope and continuance is told with disarming simplicity. Interesting oil paintings, largely in earth tones, are slightly mannered, yet culturally accurate, and often moving in their amplification of the text. A warm addition to school and public library collections. --John Philbrook, San Francisco Public LibraryCopyright 1993 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Kirkus Reviews
``My grandmother saw the emperor cry the day he lost his golden dragon throne,'' begins a young Vietnamese-American, whose lyrical narrative tells how the girl took a seed from the Imperial garden to remember the emperor by, then kept it as a talisman of hope through all the events of her life--marriage, raising her children alone after her husband went to war, crossing the sea in a flimsy boat, making a new life in America. When her little grandson takes the seed and plants it without remembering where, ``B
'' is deeply distressed. But the seed isn't lost--it comes up and blooms in the spring, a symbol of renewal: ``No matter how ugly the mud or how long the seed lays [sic] dormant, the bloom will be beautiful. It is the flower of my country,'' says B
--and now there are new seeds for the next generation to treasure. The Japanese illustrator debuts with spare, formally composed paintings reflecting the quiet mood and elegiac tone. A thoughtful, beautifully designed book that will find a place in many discussions. Historical note. (Picture book. 5-10) -- Copyright ©1993, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.
Lotus Seed FROM THE PUBLISHER
A story of hope and epiphany and the importance of family heritage. A young Vietnamese girl takes a lotus seed from the Imperial Garden. Years later, her grandson plants it in his garden--where it blooms again. Full color.
FROM THE CRITICS
Publishers Weekly
The "spare simplicity" of this tale about a Vietnamese refugee is "richly amplified by arresting, light-filled paintings," said PW in a starred review. Ages 6-10. (Mar.)
School Library Journal
Gr 2-5-- A nameless Vietnamese narrator tells of her grandmother who, as a girl, accidentally sees the last emperor cry on the day of his abdication. She surreptitiously enters the palace gardens and takes a lotus seed as a remembrance of that day and her ruler. She keeps the seed with her through vicissitudes of war, flight, and emigration until one summer a grandson (the narrator's brother) steals it and plants it in a mud pool near the family's American home. Grandmother is inconsolable when the exact spot cannot be found. The following spring, a lotus grows from the mud puddle and in time the elderly woman gives a seed to each of her grandchildren, reserving one for herself. The narrator vows to plant hers one day, give the seeds to her own children, keep the tradition, and share her grandmother's memories. This tale of hope and continuance is told with disarming simplicity. Interesting oil paintings, largely in earth tones, are slightly mannered, yet culturally accurate, and often moving in their amplification of the text. A warm addition to school and public library collections. --John Philbrook, San Francisco Public Library