Campfire for Cowboy Billy

Wendy Ulmer shows the power of imagination and love in this tale of Billy's own private Badlands. Loudly illustrated by Kenneth Spengler's gouache portrayals of New York City touched by young Billy's Western imagings, the book weaves a tricky path between pure entertainment and message. For the most part, it succeeds. Billy sees a broken truck with vehicles waiting behind it as a wagon train needing repair. Spengler draws a big truck, but he cleverly winds the street and vehicles around in a semicircle to suggest Billy's embellishment of the scene. Similarly, the urban hot dog vendor is at once a NYC vendor and a chuck wagon man (implied simply by his handkerchief and scraggly face). When Billy enters the "Badlands" by way of a shortcut through the "arroyo" he remembers a trick that his grandfather taught him to hide and then switch back to his destination: The post office. This kind of book is difficult to pull off, but the message of love, rememberance, and continuity may very well comfort younger children. The book is entertaining as well, but it seems that the potential for a truely wild "Western" experience was moderated somewhat by framing the story within Billy's relationship with his grandfather. Therefore, the story feels a bit restrained, despite the vivid pictures and "cast." However, the author explicitly states (in an endnote) that sheer entertainment was not her goal here; instead, she wrote the book to comfort and to evoke the power of imagination.

"A Campfire for Cowboy Billy" is not only a charming tale, it's a resonant one. Cowboy Billy, who looks to be somewhere between six and nine years old, lives in the city. But that doesn't stop him from riding his stick horse, Splinter, all over the place--watching out for rustlers, delivering Pony Express mail, and so on. Author Wendy K. Ulmer subtly introduces the point that Cowboy Bill's grandfather has died, and that Grandpa had once told Billy that stars are the campfires of those we love--those who have died before us. Billy takes comfort in this tale, and it doubles back towards the end to take on new resonance and meaning. Altogether a sweet and subtle way to discuss death with a child. Ulmer's story is energetically illustrated by Kenneth J. Spengler.