SHE LEADS: The Elephant Matriarch

Anchoring this in Covid19 time:

Currently heading into week 9 (or is it 10?) of restricted life. The longer this proceeds the more time becomes distorted, days blending each other. I had hoped to receive this new release in time for Mother's Day, but it arrived too late. Even so, the conceptual connection is timeless, and the date is arbitrary. Perhaps that is a healthy way to view our containment and gradual, eventual resumption of social lives. 
Timeless. 
Interdependent.
Connected to those that matter most.
Valuing and protecting each other across generations.

SHE LEADS: The Elephant Matriarch is written by June Smalls and illustrated by Yumi Kimoshawara. Brilliant illustrations, book design, parallel text, and the universal appeal of baby animals interact perfectly in this oversized, square-trim picture book.  The end product forms a perfect landscape to portray the majestic lives of elephants. Simpler, lyrical text in large font offers a narrative describing the multigenerational expanse of elephant herds and individuals. In smaller font, with finer detail, more detailed text expands our understanding of these complex lives.The thoughtful arrangement of text on expansive white backgrounds allows the elephants to reveal themselves fully and beyond the scope of the words.. 

The all-female cows and young in elephant herds incorporate siblings, aunts, cousins, and grandchildren. The point is both stated and revealed that knowledge, skills, and wisdom essential for immediate and longterm survival are accrued over time and space. As an admitted fan of elephants, I've supported certified elephant sanctuaries and follow the eventual recovery and adjustment of individual rescued elehants. In these illustrations , the majesty and elegance of elephants in natural herds are irresistible, expressive, and awe-inspiring.

This nonfiction picture book is a treasure. It will likely launch further reading  about elephants in other, more scientifically expanded books: ones with glossary, index, labeled figures, maps, and bibliography, etc. I firmly believe that a book such as this, one that introduces and celebrates the "big picture" of an intriguing subject, is the best possible introduction to nonfiction.

Endpapers: SHE LEADS The Elephant Matriarch

It is also a reminder to me of the importance of physical picture books, as opposed to digital apps and eBooks. As I wrote in the first paragraph, the potential to adapt design in the physical format allows it to convey the magnitude of these magnificent animals. Endpapers might at first glance seem to be randomly swirling lines, but a reader's focus will easily  sense an interpretation of the complex wrinkles and folds of elephant skin, a fingerprint of the landscape of their bodies. Sliding my hand across the surface of those papers proved them to be surprisingly smooth, since they provided such a strong sense of the texture and dimensionality of a matriarch's shoulder or cheek. 

My original motivation for launching this blog, nearly a decade ago, was a controversial article proclaiming that physical picture books would soon disappear due to the  growth of screen access. That has not happened, and consensus (plus sales reports) suggest that picture books are here to stay. A recent article speaks out on this very topic. 
SHE LEADS is an example of why this is the case. Imagine this book, opened wide on the floor in front of a single or several sprawled readers. Imagine the conversations that arise about the details revealed in print and image, the memories triggered of personal encounters with elephants, spontaneous  'I wonder..." or "What if..." questions. 
That's the point at which internet access might provide opportunities for further exploration, for videos of elephants in the wild, or searching for additional related titles to add to hold lists at the library.

This may not have reached me in time for a Mother's Day post, but it was worth the wait.

Speaking of libraries, I missed my public library service deeply for our first six weeks SafeAtHome. Yes, eBook files were an option, but I ached for the physical books on my hold shelf, waiting just beyond those locked library doors. Then those clever folks figured out a safe and sane way to allow patrons to place books on hold, confirm their arrival, and schedule a safe curbside pick-up. This particular book was a purchase (from a local indie bookstore) but at my side are now stacks of books recently retrieved from the library. Support your local library and the essential workers who provide this service. 

This One's For You, Mom!

When I launched this blog in January I intended to discuss picture books old and new, exploring outstanding titles aimed at many ages, topics, and interests. In recent weeks that included MORE, by I. C. Springman and Brian Lies followed by Z IS FOR MOOSE, by Kelly Binghamn and Paul O. Zelinsky.

As excited as I am to learn about and share these latest releases, this week I have something else on my mind. Nerdy Book Club posted accolades to outstanding moms in literature, while The Book Chook listed some life lessons embedded in the mom-isms we hear throughout childhood. This post is coming out a day early to honor my own Mom.

Pancreatic cancer took her from us more than a decade ago, but she's with me daily, especially on Mother's Day. The "Just for Mom" clothing sales filling newspapers and media ads never fail to bring her to mind. Mom was the first to admit she loved her clothes.

Mom grew up in Appalachia, wearing hand-me-downs, sleeping under quilts that were scrapped and patched from worn clothing, stuffed with raw cotton or other scraps too small to piece. Now we call that recycling. She was fed from the kitchen garden, warmed by a poorly vented coal stove, and walked to school barefoot, carrying her shoes to make them last longer. Now we call that reducing a carbon footprint.

It's easy to imagine why, as an adult, she so enjoyed the luxury of having multiple pairs of shoes to choose from, outfits to coordinate, accessories to vary. Her frugal attention to discounts, coupons, and close-outs did not diminish the image of style and class she always projected.

But that's not to say she was ashamed of her roots. To the contrary, she was raised with love and security, with music and story, with laughter and adventure. And with reading. Mom loved to read, shared that joy with us, and (we learned after her death) wrote often. Her taste in reading was far-reaching, as long as the content somehow touched her heart and life.

Which brings me to this week's featured titles. When she was well into her seventies I gave her two picture books I felt certain she'd enjoy. The first was ELIZABETI'S DOLL, by Stephanie Stuve-Bodeen, illustrated by Christy Hale (1998). After reading young Elizabeti's story of finding a rock to use as her baby doll, Eva, Mom told me she had done the same as a child. The youngest (by far) of siblings busy with school or work, Mom created a family of rocks with names and personalities to share her days. Without this book to trigger her memory I'd have never heard this story.

I'm a huge fan of Byrd Baylor's books, recommending them often. When I read THE TABLE WHERE RICH PEOPLE SIT, with luminous pictures by Peter Parnall (1998) I knew Mom would love it. From the first line it is clear that the young narrator seeks the reader's support of her premise: "If you could see us/ sitting here/ at our old/ scratched-up/ homemade/ kitchen table/ you'd know that/ we aren't rich. But my father/ is trying to tell us/ we are."

Baylor captures the voice of a young girl perfectly, one who is smart enough to compare her own life with that of a richer community. She allows the girl to explore those differences in the light of her parents' values and finds she shares their sense of what it means to live a rich life.

As I was sure she would, Mom loved this book, too. I have many memories of Mom (and Dad) reading to and with us as children. Enjoying these books with Mom as an adult, learning more about her childhood, these are memories I cherish, too, especially on this Mother's Day.

You never outgrow your need for picture books.