BOOKS UP THE MOUNTAIN: A Packhorse Librarian Story

 Let's hear it for LIBRARIANS! (Pause for applause.)

For LIBRARIANS PAST AND PRESENT! (More applause, please.)

For LIBRARIANS matching readers to the materials they want, need, and love! (ROAR of applause!)

(Pause to recover.)

WAXWING BOOKS, 2025

BOOKS UP THE MOUNTAIN: A PACKHORSE LIBRARIAN STORY
is the lyrically told account of an unnamed librarian tagged Book Woman. But Book Woman does not work from a library building. Or a bus. Or even on a road. 

Talented author Caroline Starr Rose brings concise and compelling prose that contributes a lyrical tone to this history. Illustrations by Gabrielle Grimard are slightly stylized but offer the natural colors, familiar figures, and subtle finishes of a landscape from earlier times. The visual narrative reveals the joyful transactions as well as the challenging struggles of Book Woman and her clients. In this case Book Woman represents the many women who took on this important role, had a limited range of printed items to circulate, and adhered to their mission despite serious challenges. 

On sprawling spreads of soft-edged landscapes across changing seasons, Book Woman follows her route through valleys and hollows, around mountain trails and ridges, knocking at doors and windows. Children and adults alike know her schedule and watch for her, welcoming pamphlets, series books, recipes, and news from far beyond their view. Brief but beautiful lines read descriptively but as poetically as a psalm:

"A cluster of clouds crowds the skies.

Streams surge. Waters rise."

Combined with images of gusting willow limbs and a shift of emotion on her face, those lines let readers feel the tension of being isolated far from home, committed to her mission but aware of impending storms. Along the way Book Woman keeps company with the ill and aging, offers suggestions and readings for the young ones, and notates requests, observing needs. On weekends, Book Women gather to exchange inventory, repair books, stitch bindings, and discuss the needs of their mountain readers. They were hired during the depths of The Great Depression and crippling unemployment by the Works Progress Administration to infuse modest income into families in Appalachia while uplifting literacy and community.

This well-researched, lovingly written, and entertaining picture book is a treasure at any time. In our present world, librarians are under siege while information and entertainment access is a click away for kids of any age. This story from history offers an engaging invitation to recognize the value of literature and its delivery. It provides a step back in time with a nod to the dramatic change in circumstances, slowing down the absorption of the story and its impact through the power of poetic pacing and phrasing combined with lush expanses of nature's best views.

If you aren't familiar with other books by Caroline Starr Rose, do yourself a favor and check out her award-winning middle grade titles, verse novels, and picture books.

Some prior posts featuring picture books about extraordinary efforts of  librarians are available HERE, HERE, and HERE, with a link to a PBS documentary on the packhorse librarians HERE.

THE COUCH IN NTHE YARD: A Surreal Summer Escapade

I'm living in my home state of Ohio again, after living elsewhere for many decades. Since my return I'm often reminded of the distinctly different topography, sociology, and cultural heritage of the various regions within this supposed "flyover" state. The area of Ohio most distinct, in many ways, is the southeast region that embraces an Appalachian vibe similar to that of Kentucky, where my mother grew up. All too often, any references to regions marked with valleys and hollows, rural roads, very small towns, generational residents, and stereotypical white steeple churches seem to be shadowed by an air of condescension. Perhaps that description is too strong, but at least I detect a degree of judgement or assumption that such an area is backward, isolated, or in other ways "less than" more urban regions. 

NEAL PORTER BOOKS, 2025

Cynthia Rylant, author of many beloved books for kids, both early readers and award-winning picture books, grew up in Appalachia West Virginia, an area adjacent to Appalachia Ohio. She honored and celebrated the pace and people of her childhood, the rhythms of language and depths of relationships. That richness and relevance of story and place and population is what I felt in a recent picture book, THE COUCH IN THE YARD, written by Kate Hoefler and illustrated by Dena Seiferling.

It may be that those who treat such regions and their residents as "drive through" rather than "flyover" are still so removed from those "other" lives that  they only notice the front yard cars on cinder blocks or the upholstered furniture near the garden. Perhaps it is only a residual awareness or memory of such things, since most travelers stick to the freeways and make their stops at Buc-ee's or other franchises, cookie-cutter places with no way to tell one from the other.

The author chose to put that yard couch front and center. The couch is fully foreground in this tale that takes readers along on a summer night adventure. The couch is strapped to the roof of the car, a car finally urged into its potential to run. Using well-managed rhyme in the pattern of "This Is The House That Jack Built", these smoky-toned, starry-night images build upon each other as the verses do, sharing the joy and excitement of seeking a full moon to view and a beautiful world to celebrate. The joy of the experience is irresistible, the moon is luminous amid the lifting fog, and the family shares their front row seat with readers. Grateful. Delighted. Thrilled, even, at the wonder of it all. 

This story celebrates love, life, and luxury- the luxury of a family that sees and appreciates each other and the world around them. A world that would be lost to them in the city.

The author grew up in the rolling hills of Ohio's Appalachia and treasures her experiences there.  The illustrator did not, but captured the values and tone of Kate's words in images that took me right back to summer nights in Kentucky. I seemed to hear the crickets, the distant train whistles, the wind in the tree tops. I won't share details from the author's or illustrator's  notes, but I do urge you to take a moment after reading this book to absorb what they have to say. Especially if you're ever heard (or felt) that slightly judgmental tone in in discussions about the people and lives of western Appalachia. The blend of gentle rhythmic language and ethereal art will wrap you in s sense of how and why the life portrayed is one to be envied.

Now that summer is upon us, we are all capable of setting foot outside to discover what wonders might await us, whether on a front stoop or  the front seat of a car, on a bike or on foot. Life is out there. And life is in all of us, especially when we share the ride.