Synopsis
After the Maker-of-all-things uses words to create the world, she allows others to use her magic words until Coyote tries her patience with his mischief.
From Kirkus Reviews
Drawing on legends of southwestern Native Americans, Root formulates a new tale of the creation and the genesis of story: ``The Maker-of-all-things spoke the world into being''-- `` `Earth' ''; `` `Moon'...'Stars' ''; `` `Sage'...'Juniper, cedar, pine' ''; `` `...jack rabbit, coyote' ''; last, she makes ``us.'' Then comes a time when words are magic and need only be spoken to be true, and when most creatures are content. Only Coyote is bored; mischievously, he incites a man to say ``rain'' while a woman says ``sun,'' and another pair to proclaim, at once, ``night'' and ``day.'' In consequence, the Maker-of-all- things declares words no longer magic but then relents a bit: While it's told, a story's words are magic still. Root's Coyote is appropriately childlike; her lively narration is well-honed and agreeably informal, just right for oral sharing. In freely rendered, luminous art, Speidel revels in the Southwest's sunset colors while peopling the tale with deftly sketched pueblo dwellers, a stately Maker/Mother, and the slinky, insinuating Coyote. A sensible afterword distinguishes inspiration from invention. (Picture book. 4-8) -- Copyright ©1993, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.