Little Beauty, By Anthony Browne

The latest picture book by children's author and illustrator Anthony Browne arrives two decades after he made his name with Gorilla. In the intervening years there have been awards; collaborations with the writer Annalena McAfee; and a variety of themes: sibling rivalry, paternal emotional distance, family discord – and many stories featuring apes. But what drives all Browne's work is tension; he conjures up a world where nothing can be trusted to be in its proper place. A tomato is taken for a walk instead of a dog; a dog is put in a pram instead of a baby – and everything is portrayed in a touching and graceful way.

In Little Beauty, a lonely gorilla who knows sign language is given a kitten, Beauty. Welcome to the strange world of Anthony Browne, you think. Except Little Beauty is based on the exploits of a real gorilla in a California zoo who knew sign language, and babysat a kitten. The scene where the gorilla smashes a TV is drawn from fact (except it was a sink). As is the deflection of blame: the gorilla in San Diego blamed the keeper. But everything else – engrossing detail (check out the faces hidden in the roses), odd juxtapositions (Beauty and the gorilla swing from a lampshade) and the very human qualities of the gorilla – are all gratifyingly true to the world of Browne.

"It's as though there's a human being inside, looking at you," Browne has said of why he's so drawn to gorillas. There is also a connection with his father's death, when Browne was only 17. A professional boxer who played rugby, Browne's father was a big, powerful, physical man. But he also liked to draw, read books and write poems. The gorillas are the same: apparently fierce, but gentle; an intriguing hybrid.

Browne is a graphic artist who worked as a medical artist and greeting-card designer before producing his first picture book. His artwork is characterised by a forensic eye for detail: the hairs on an arm, veins on an oak leaf. Yet here, the painting is looser, less fixed on the real. Inches of fur are left black. It has a sweet playfulness, too, which marks an emotional departure. A sense of foreboding often lurks in Browne's work, but in Little Beauty, the world is light, fresh, unclouded by worries. Which leaves just one question: who did smash the TV?