102 is a 2026 picture book by Caldecott medalist Matthew Cordell. It is unified, ambitious, and, in a way, breaks one of the classic rules of storytelling, which is not to end with “it was all a dream.”
Perhaps I should explain. The book begins at 102 Greenbriar Drive, on October 2 (10/2, or 102 again). A boy has been kept home from school with a fever of 101. He and his mother capture a mouse in the kitchen who’s carrying a bean. The boy (George) gets put in bed, with his fever now at 102.
A cricket wakes him at 1:02 AM, and George follows it into a crack shrinking to insect size and entering the crowded world of the very tiny. The cricket talks to him as it leads him to 102 Acorn Hollow (which may be just an oak tree). There George enters a mouse house, where they’re making a soup of 102 different beans. The only problem is, the father mouse went to get the 102nd bean and hasn’t returned (because human-sized George trapped him).
The other mouse asks George for help, and he agrees. He then passes through a realm labeled as 102 Crickets, and follows the cricket back into his house. While traveling back and forth on his tiny adventure, George passes many things (such as “singing ants”) and picks up an old coin. He returns to his normal size, the size of almost 102 crickets, and releases the father mouse and the 102nd bean.
He wakes at 1:02 PM to the smell of his mother’s “102-bean soup.” His fever is gone, and George reaches into his pocket to check if the coin is still there.
The story then jumps to George on his 102nd birthday, who tells the reader the answer to the questions “Was it all a dream?” and “Was it all real?” is “102 times, yes.”
And, mouse on his shoulder, George holds up the strange old coin as evidence.
I applaud the structure and the repetition, and the images of size change are engaging and gauzy: they fit the idea of fever and dreaming. I like the drawings of the many different beans lining the book’s inner cover. The dialogue in the book is clear and fitting, and the family dynamics feel real.
And…I hate to say this, but I feel like I should like this more. I smiled at times, and nodded at each 102, but otherwise…I wouldn’t need to own this, or to reread it often.
