Mars Needs Moms
Written and illustrated by Berkeley Breathed
Philomel Books; $16.99
40 pp.; ISBN-13: 978-0399247361

Review by Amy Brozio-Andrews

It's a rare occurrence that I'll ever come right out and tell you in so many words that you need to go out and read this book, but, well, here it is: You really should go read Mars Needs Moms. I've read dozens upon dozens of children's books, and Berkeley Breathed's picture book really is something special.

On Mars, there are no mothers. No mothers to cook, clean, or carpool; no mothers to bake, bandage, or baby you; no mother to kiss you, miss you, or even discipline you. And so the Martians have been watching, waiting, and planning. And there's one little boy who cannot for the love of Mike figure out what's good about his mother. She a "bellowing broccoli bully" and a "slave-driving, trash-mashing, rubbish odor ogre." Milo cannot possibly imagine what's so special about her. And after one especially trying afternoon (from both of their perspectives), he tells her so.

Much to Milo's surprise, that night the Martians arrive and decide to take his mother back for their own. He takes off after them, finding himself aboard their ship, where he dons a helmet and waits to arrive on Mars. Upon landing, he tumbles down the gangway, and he makes it just fine, but the helmet doesn't. And so it comes to pass that one little boy, in one quick instant, realizes exactly what makes mothers so special.

Be forewarned, before the book is over, Mom's in serious jeopardy. I distinctly recall having a moment of blind panic while reading this to my child and seeing Milo's mother slumped against her son, safe in his helmet, and thinking, Berkeley Breathed had better make this end well because I am not up to having a discussion about death with my kid just before bedtime. And I breathed a sigh of relief, because he does, and does it well. While the idea of a parent being willing making the ultimate sacrifice for her child sounds really heavy for a children's picture book, in Breathed's hands, it's handled with grace and sensitivity; the specter of Milo losing his mother is brief but quite real, and Milo's realization that his mother is more than just a killjoy is a sweet revelation.

Famous for his Pulitzer Prize-winning Bloom County and Opus, Breathed's illustrations will look vaguely familiar to his newspaper fans. Colorful and stylized artwork speaks volumes; poor Milo's mom doesn't get more than an arm's worth of illustration-time until her slack body is being carried away by the Martians. But when she removes her own helmet to replace Milo's broken one in the harsh Martian atmosphere, we see her through Milo's eyes, and she's simply beatific.

With a nod to classic science fiction (the opening line is a derivation of H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds first line) and a real appreciation for little boy's perspective, Mars Needs Moms is truly a memorable story. Breathed keeps the tone and illustrations irreverent enough to save the book from becoming morbid or depressing. While younger readers may not fully understand the implications of Milo's mother giving up her helmet to save her child, they'll still celebrate Milo's overcoming the Martian invasion and abduction of his mother. This is a book that parents and children can share together, speaking volumes about the selfless love of parents for their children, no matter how many times we, like Milo's mother, might have to tell them how inappropriate sister-tinting is.