Two Wordless Wonders: Something Special for Every Age

Candlewick Press, 2021

The creative pairing of author JonArno Lawson with illustrator Qin Leng was inspired. Both are listed as being residents of Toronto, but I tend to imagine them as being residents of a single mind. I first met their shared brilliance in OVER THE SHOP. This wordless book tells a gradually unfolding but complex story of the transformative power of openness, positivity, curiosity, and inclusion. A young girl lives with her curmudgeonly-grimaced older adult. He's likely, but not necessarily, her grandfather, and they reside together above his shop.They each seem well-established in daily routines, but with different demeanors. When making a stack of breakfast pancakes, his expression is as down-turned as it is when a cat intrudes on his grocery display outside the shop.The girl, however, is intrepidly intent on doing her own chores while noticing and engaging with the cat and other occurrences. She is NOT  relentlessly grinning or apparetnly a 'chipper" child, but is attentive, patient, and respectful of the space others need to feel safe. 

This, after multiple scenes, sets the stage for the "plot": a second residence above the store is available to rent. The apartment has little going for it, as the first potential renter (and reader) observes before making a speedy exit. Then a series of potential residents are shown coming... and quickly going. When a mixed-race young couple arrive, the owner's scowl is even deeper than usual, despite his obvious need for renters. The child intervenes, and he grudgingly concedes. A happy ending, I'd say.

But wait, the story is only half over. 

This is a transformative story, in which the young couple demonstrate gently that they are not only hardworking but eager, friendly, greeting even the fellow on the porch next door, who notes but does not respond to their greetings. As they dig into deep cleaning and restoration to a livable space, the girl joins in their effort, chasing away the hungry cat who threatens the birds nesting on the balcony. 

This is a highly realistic story. Change is not achieved overnight, but small signals of investment of care into the place gradually bear fruit. The tiny trail of cat tidbits that eventually play a role feel symbolic of the overall small steps leading to the gradual taming of the owner, celebrating the infectious power of caring, kindness, and community in warm and wonderful everyday acts.

Whew! Look at all those words up there! Lawson is a poet and poets use words very sparingly. ALL of the above words are mine. This poet, this master of the "just right word", managed to convey his story wordlessly! That means he somehow created and described all of this  in a way that allowed the illustrator ample space for her own creative interpretation, knowing the intent was a wordless story that captured his original creation. And Leng accomplished that with grace and nuance. Each time I "read" this story i note added visual details that enhance it further- from the setting details in the shop, residence, apartment, and neighborhood, to the clothing, body postures, and facial expressions of the central characters and the ones who appear only on a page or two. The story as a whole and in its particular parts and details is fantastic and offers something for every age. The same is true for this subtle and persuasive message.

Candlewick Press, 2022

Their second wordless collaboration is A DAY FOR SANDCASTLES. This, too, displays the nuance and visual appeal of OVER THE SHOP, but takes a very simple premise and conveys a full emotional arc in a circle story about a family day at the beach. A family alights from a tour bus unloading eager beachgoers. The adults set up at the edge of dunes, while the three children head to water's edge to build a sandcastle. Time after time they achieve, or nearly achieve, that goal, only to suffer setbacks from many angles (not just the predictable incoming tide). In this story the fun is in those visual details, noting subtle cues, predicting what could come next, imagining what they will do now (or what the reader might decide to do!). But then ... several factors in quick succession send them all back aboard the bus for a weary but satisfying sunset ride home. It's hard to imagine a more perfect purely-summer picture book! 

Once again, I wondered just what words Lawson might have used to set the stage for these remarkably familiar yet specific and fascinating  images, revealed in a  combination of full spreads, horizontal panels, and comic-style quick sequences. Whatever they were, and whatever editor and/or art director orchestrated these two wordless/visual narratives, they achieved timeless brilliance with both. 

Lawson has paired with other illustrators, notably with Sydney Smith in the multi-award-winning wordless book, SIDEWALK FLOWERS. That's a favorite of mine, one I featured in an earlier post while serving as a Cybils panelist a few years ago:

"This wordless book uses color, detail, subtle facial and body expressions in black/white illustrations with the spot color contrast to lead readers through an emotionally complex story. It is accessible to the very young but offers content to spark potentially intense discussions at any age about relationships, personal expression, and pursuing that often-referenced "in the moment" awareness in daily life."

It was this picture book that alerted me to Lawson, and I've been delighted with where that attention has led. I hope that my small spotlight on these books will bring them to your attention, too, and you'll share them with others!  Wordless books, like these, are accessible to the very young, but carry meaning for every age.

Advance Peek at ANTONIA: Thoughtprovoking Picture Book

 

MinEditions, 2021

In the midst of news about refugees, escapes, and heartache, I recently received a sample of a picturebook by Columbian author/illustrator, DIPACHO. ANTONIA: A Journey to a New Home will release on September 14 (2021) from MinEditionUS/Astra Publishing House. I try not to overdo being pushy in these posts, but this is an excellent example of how important every single aspect of cover designs can be.On first glance, it's easy to assume that ANTONIA is the lively, lighthearted dog. My assumption there was correct, but there is so much more to notice. 

First, Antonia is looking back, not ahead. Why is that? Is she escaping from someone? Leading the way? Playing with someone? And why is the subtitle "a" journey, not "her" journey? Any ideas?

As they say in the infomercials... wait, there's more! 

Any careful look at a well-designed book cover will include checking out the  back. Of course the text is intentionally helpful, hint-full. But before any words were added, you can compare the two halves of the story that meet a reader's eye before the first page is turned. The front is in bright and "happy" colors, familiar in the styles of the light-noted lively dog, its doggish smile, and a hedge that could be found in any neighborhood. In stark contrast are the color tones and visual suggestions on the back. Images are blurred and blue-er, from the ground up through the ominous sky. That horizontal herdgery is less vibrant, nearly suggesting fencing or barbed wire with a slight squint as you view. 

Any move has both good-and-bad aspects, as presented in books reviewed earlier this month, HERE, and in several other posts. This cover alone suggested to me that much higher stakes could be revealed once I cracked open the story. That's what the opening endpapers confirmed, as the dog is racing away from a lovely home with bags packed outside their door. Then, in several wordless pages that preceded the title page, the dog pauses, tongue lolling, at water's edge. He is soon joined by his young girl, arriving with a hug, followed by a boy with a duck on a leash.

Before the ongoing, eventful scenes unfold wordlessly, DIPACHO offers an introductory note to assure our understanding. He clarifies that many in his homeland, Columbia, are no longer safe in their longtime, lovely homes, but must escape to urban areas, at great risk and loss of their family heritage. Just as the back cover cautions, this introduction makes clear that "a journey" may be dangerous and difficult, and yet in the company of loved ones it is possible to find happiness and hope. 

I will not spoil the story by revealing what "difficulties" this migratory group will deal with, but I urge readers to keep your eyes peeled for the many little visual details that suggest answers to your questions. Who arrives? Who survives? What should be celebrated and what should be mourned? 

Sound like a lot? Well, current global events are "a lot", and without discussion and openness to questions from little ones whose big eyes and ears notice more than we realize, those can feel either unreal or overwhelming. Stories like this one, shared with trusted adults, can elevate empathy and expand understanding. 

While you're at it, give a look back at another kid-friendly but world-aware picture book, CROCODILE'S CROSSING: A Search For Home, reviewed HERE. 

I'm throwing in a bit of a Covid anchor here, too. The mandate against evictions in the USA is about to be lifted, and there will undoubtedly be countless families right around the corners from us who will be forced out of their "lovely homes" to seek "safe" shelter in unpredictable places and circumstances. This fall there will likely be exponentially more un-homed kids within our schools and among our acquaintances. Books like these can resonate with both those who suffer losses and those who can't imagine such losses. Please use books to open discussions that must be had in order to increase our capacity to empathize and actively help.

(Received from publisher without a promise of review.)

Du Iz Tak? Illustrations make all the Difference!

Candlewick Press, 2016

Whether you are new to this blog or a regular reader, the title of my blog should make it obvious that I value picture books far beyond their appeal as entertainment, concepts, stories, or information. I love picture books that accomplish any or all of the above, but especially so when they trigger brainwaves firing faster than any video game or other device could accomplish. That quality, in fact, is the basis for my many arguments that the true, wide audience for picture books is NOT limited to early ages.

Wordless books (examples here) often have that effect, as do books that require manipulation or physical engagement (examples here). In the case of this featured title, hold on to your brainwave caps and prepare for fun. 
DU IZ TAK? is written and illustrated by Carson Ellis. In addition to it's visual appeal and narrative, it's also an homage to communication and communities. In this case it's a community of fanciful, insect-y creatures who share a common language, but not one we would recognize. It works for any language, which I found to be particularly appealing in this image of the cover of the Chinese version, here.
This book received a 2016 CALDECOTT HONOR and starred reviews from KIRKUS, PUBLISHERS WEEKLY, and HORN BOOK, among many other well-deserved accolades. I hadn't intended to write a post about it because the glowing commentaries from voices more widely circulated than mine were numerous, and they included so many of the points I would have made here. 
And yet...
When I checked it out of the library for a second time, I realized there were so many rich ways to consider the depth of this book. There are sub-plots and visual narrative threads dealing with life cycles of plants and animals, with predator/prey interactions, with collaboration, communication, creative play, cause-effect chains, observation/inquiry models, and habitats in which communities abide.

Young readers (and older ones) come to various conclusions about how the invented language should be "translated". In general, many have arrived at this conclusion:

"Du iz tak?" translates as "What is that?"  

and 

"Ma nazoot." translates as "I don't know."

But even the use  of traditional punctuation leaves openings for dramatic differences of interpretation. Yes, the little critters' faces and their evolving scenes offer a degree of likelihood as to what they would be saying, but that is minimal. 

Let's just try those two lines with various attitudes attached:

What is THAT? (surprise? fright? excitement?)

What IS that? (revulsion, annoyance, irritation?)

WHAT is THAT? (shock, anxiety, demanding?)

and the possible responses:

I don't KNOW. (reflecting surprise, frustration, concern?)

I don't know. (annoyance, avoidance, confusion, even worry?)

I DON'T know. (denial, argument, irritation?)

And each page turn opens up additional options for assigning personalities and attitudes to each speaker. Which is to say, this is book that has a powerful effect on all readers, from the opening green, life-saturated endpapers to the final ones, and including each spread within the covers. The final spread presents the copyright/dedication but includes the dapper, mustachioed little caterpillar uttering his final "ta-ta!". 
I realized, after repeatedly examining page after page, that it was likely his smugness that drew me back to check it out again. That little dude seemed to know that there is no saying good-bye to this book. I encourage you to read it again, if you are already familiar with this winning book, or discover it for yourself and form your own opinions about these remarkable little chatters.
You won't regret it, and if you translate lines differently, I welcome your interpretation in the comments.

How Picture Books Speak to Us: Listening with our Eyes.

What IS a picture book, anyway? 

When I was invited to speak to a workshop of experienced teachers I found the room filled with the nearly unanimously opinion that picture books meant wordless books. 

I'll get to that category in a few paragraphs, but picture books are simply books in which the visual images function as an essential part of the narrative of the book as a whole. 

Do wordless books do this?

Absolutely. 
Picture books encompass every conceivable genre-- information, nonfiction narratives, poetry, storybooks, fantasy, alphabet books, concept books, and board books (usually considered a special category), among many others. 

But the vast majority of picture books include text, in one way or another-- from speech bubbles and paneled text images to formally framed text alternating with framed illustrations... and everything in between. That text combines with the visual narrative resulting in a whole greater than the sum of its parts.

Chronicle Books, 2016

So why is the quirky duck-ish character so convinced that THIS IS NOT A PICTURE BOOK! Author/illustrator Sergio Ruzzier utilizes every inch of this book to answer that question. The book jacket poses not only the clever title and key characters but subtly presents the premise of the story in gray text. On the opening end papers the conventions of text are evident (word chunks, left-to-right progression with punctuation, and recognizable letter combinations). With each page turn we discover more of the premise: a book, a many-paged, text-only book, has dropped into their lives. Only once the title question is relevant does the title page appear. 

Despite his/her protests about text being too hard, together they attempt to make sense of a senseless letter scramble, gradually discovering recognizable words, concepts, scenes, and emotions. The journey a (new kind of) reader takes within its pages eventually returns them home, satisfied and pleased. 
The charming final chirp, "READ IT AGAIN!" confirms that those who really read text, finding within it powerful visual narratives, will come to love those "not-a-picture-books" every bit as much as they do actual picture books. The final endpapers reprise the story in words, this time clearly readable.

Here's what I had to say about it on Goodreads:

Lovable on so many levels, with questions of word-reading, meaning-reading, visualization, book concepts, and concepts of the book. Author/illustrator Ruzzier explores this and more in his minimalist, humorous, and re-readable-to-the-Nth degree picture book. (And it IS a picture book, regardless of the title or endpapers!)

As my post title indicates, this little critter personifies a reader learning to listen with his reading eyes, converting that content into the visual narratives s/he seeks. 

Candlewick Press, 2016

Many illustrators have built wildly successful, award-filled careers creating wordless books. Among them is Jeannie Baker, whose creations include many wordless picture books. Her latest picture book, CIRCLE, depicts the incredible-but-true story of the global-migrating godwit (shorebird). She incorporates minimal but lyrical text and a story-within-the-story of a boy, his community, and the interconnectedness of communities around the globe. 

The illustrations are themselves as all-absorbing as the godwits' migration patterns. 
Children and adults alike will seek out subtle visual details, speculate on artistic creation techniques, and imagine how the art compares to actual birds-eye-views and topography. 

It's books like these that build readers/listeners who expect that every time a cover is lifted or a page turned there will follow multi-layered and engaging content far beyond lifeless images and robotic text. That's the expectation that allows learners to take that scary step into books without physical images to actively create them as they read.

Here's to THE BOYS, Young and Old

Last week's post celebrated the magic of my dad's voice bringing the Sunday "funnies" to life.

Now let's take a look at how those magical inner voices serve us in wordless books. I can think of no better title to consider for this than THE BOYS, by Jeff Newman.

The only way to do this book justice is to read it, and read it again and again. On one hand that's pretty easy to do- if you can read the days of the week. The only words are the "day" labels spanning a full week.
It begins on Tuesday when the new boy in the neighborhood unpacks his baseball gear and heads to the park. Overcome by shyness when he sees a game in progress, he opts to perch on a park bench with a foursome of "mature gents". Those are my words- choose your own: geezers, senior dudes, old fogeys, grandpa types. They are both stereotypical and utterly unique.

The next day the boy packs his gear away, grabs a loaf of bread for the pigeons, and returns to the bench with his new demographic. Thursday he begins to dress the part- You know what they say about imitation being the sincerest form of flattery. When he returns Friday, having added hat, cane, and glasses, the gents are not there. Eventually they attract his attention where they are "playing" on the equipment. On Saturday the boy arrives at the bench to find a bike, but no buds. As they scoot past on  wagons, and scooters and bikes he rants at them like the old coot-persona he has adopted.

On Sunday he stews on the bench while the gents gear up and head out for a baseball game, leaving equipment for the boy. Eventually, reluctantly, he joins them, scowl intact.
He then proceeds to blast the ball out of the park on his first swing.

Monday it rains, but we see his own baseball gear again unpacked and waiting with him for the weather to improve.

Tuesday- one week since his original baseball venture. He arrives at the bench with his gear to see kids  choosing sides for a game. This time he follows, calls out, and joins them. Then he whacks the ball out of the park while his foursome of fogey friends cheer on the sidelines.

The satisfying conclusion made me cheer. Both "the boy" and "the boys" had made it off the bench and back into the game. I especially enjoy the pun in that- in a wordless book, no less.

(Another synopsis and reviews can be found at Kirkus and Story Time Standouts.)
If you don't know the book, page through the first half at the Simon & Schuster site.

So where are the voices in all this? How do you "read" wordless books (or comics, for that matter) when the words are minimal or non-existent?

In the power of the pictures, of course. The Boys is similar to  comics illustration in that there is much white space, lines are minimal, colorful, and bold, but each is essential.  Tiny lines, dots, squiggles create both facial and postural expressions that speak volumes.

In fact, using the minimal lines forming expressions and gestures, I read five plot lines in this supposedly simple book, with the child being the main character and the gents each having a story to tell. Try "reading" the book five times through, in each case assuming the role of one of the characters. Voice their inner thoughts. Have the inner conversation you can imagine each having, including their views of the others in the scene and the reactions to how this changes their own lives.

Suddenly, the stories in the art provide a depth and breadth far surpassing that of a shy boy who is finding his place in a new neighborhood. Where the boy had anticipated rejection from his peers he instead encountered it from some of the gents- just look at those faces! And they, in turn, read the boy's situation perfectly, intervening with humor and determination. Newman has also mastered the "invisible" language between the page turns (or panels, in comics). The reader must realize that these gents engaged in negotiations and planning to so fully coordinate their efforts and intent.

And even at a distance, who can doubt that the foursome are happy to be in on the action now.

I'm no fan of stereotypes, and my own family disproves any claim that males eschew talk. But this story  reminds me that all grandpas began as dads, and all had to find their own ways to communicate, support, and guide their charges. It also reminds me of the many kids I've known who found that support in surrogate parents and grandparents. Whether that support is spoken in words or actions, or both, it can be life-changing. On this Fathers Day let's tip our baseball caps to all the pseudo-dads and gramps,  too,  with thanks for all they do.

An "emotions" resource tab related to this post has been added. It describes an activity to support the process of "decoding" and labeling facial expressions and body postures to enhance comprehension and depth of questioning.

Jeff Newman had an interview at the time of this release (2010) over at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast Blog.