Posted on: 30/01/2020
In February – the month of St Valentine (who, curiously enough, is actually the patron saint for those who have found love; the saint required for finding love would appear to be St Raphael…) a review of literature can only really be themed around love and unbreakable bonds: love that is romantic; love that is platonic; the love felt for one’s family; love that is unconditional; love that is for someone; love that is of something; love that is fleeting; love that is eternal and everything else in between. And, on love, one only need look quickly to find multiple quotes from adult literature on the subject: Shakespeare’s works overflow with musings on the subject. Take Hamlet’s letter to Ophelia where he writes, Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love. And then to quote Tayari Jones, in her stunning novel An American Marriage: Love makes a place in your life… Invisibly, it makes a place in your body, rerouting all your blood vessels, throbbing right alongside your heart. When it's gone, nothing is whole again.
But what of the theme of love within children’s literature? Why is this such an important theme to be explored? We know that affording children the opportunity to identify with narratives and the characters within is a powerful tool in helping children make sense of their worlds. We know that with exploring love, related themes such as empathy, selflessness, courage and loyalty are often not far away. In fact – and this is perhaps a bold statement – but the vast majority of texts featured in the Literary Curriculum both for the Planning Sequences and Literary Leaves have such central themes: the love that Duck feels in Emily Gravett’s The Odd Egg; the desperate sense of love and courage seen in Two Weeks with the Queen by Morris Gleitzman and the visible, visceral selfless love that passes between the characters in Shaun Tan’s The Arrival… love is between the pages of so many children’s books if you look hard enough. And the beautiful books we’ve selected for this month’s review are no exception: Forever by Beatrice Alemagna; The Girl who Stole an Elephant by Nizrana Farook and The Kid who Came from Space by Ross Welford.
(Thames and Hudson, January 23rd2020)
DedicatedTo anyone who thinks that nothing lasts forever, multi award-winning and prolific author/illustrator Beatrice Alemagna’s latest offering is quite sumptuous. Timeless illustrations in the softest caresses of pastel replete with that one thing that guarantees to delight the younger child – transparent overlays – simply tell of moments in life that pass or change. There are good things that are fleeting: a bird is perched on the end of a child’s finger: There are lots of things in life that don't last forever. Sometimes things change. Turn the acetate page and the bird has flown.
There are depictions of the inconsequential: Steam from a hot drink drifts away.
And there is fear that doesn't last: When you feel scared, it always fades away.A child lies awake in wide-eyed fear of a monster looming above her head but when the acetate page is turned, the monster melts into the pattern on the wallpaper and the child peacefully sleeps.
The final two pages though. Oh… simply exquisite: there are no acetates here, as this is the permanent, the constant, the ‘forever’ moment:
In fact, almost everything changes or goes away. But there’s one thing that never changes. One thing that always lasts. Forever. And there lies a picture of the one thing that is unending and unbreakable: an embrace of a woman and child that is symbolic of a parent/parent-figure’s love for their child. So, so beautiful. Perfect for children in Reception and Year 1 but would also make a lovely gift.
(Nosy Crow, January 2nd2020)
Rich in plot-twists, this isn’t as straightforward a tale as it would first seem. Chaya is a thief. And when we meet her at the very opening of this story, there’s a sense that she’s fairly well-versed in thieving. But her reason for stealing this time (and the loot being the Queen’s jewels, straight out of the palace no less) is a compelling one: another young villager named Vijay has been attacked by a crocodile whilst swimming and the only way Vijay might have a chance at walking again is for his family to take him to see a medicine man that they can in no way afford. Chaya’s plan is simple: pass on a jewel in order that Vijay’s family might be able to sell it to save him. But then, as these things have a habit of doing, it all goes dreadfully wrong when the daughter of a finely dressed merchant takes a liking to one of Neelan’s handcrafted boxes… a box that is concealing the stolen jewels.
Neelan is wrongly accused and imprisoned for the crime he didn’t commit - Chaya’s crime - and so Chaya must rescue him: not just to assuage her guilt but more pressing is the fact that he has been sentenced to death. And this is where steely Nour and Chaya, a girl with mettle in spades must grow to understand and support each other. And the theme of unbreakable bonds? Well between friends, yes, and also between a child and an animal. But the most intriguing bond is betwixt Chaya and Nour, for Nour knows. She knows what Chaya is guilty of and knows that Neel is protecting her. She also knows that, in part, she is to blame for Neel’s incarceration and comes into her own in the most unexpected (yet timely, as there are now a mere 6 hours before Neel’s execution) of moments and ways:
And that was where they saw them. Every one - and it did look like every single one - of the guards had returned and they were all staring at Chaya and Neel with undisguised anger…’Let’s see you try to get out of this,’ said a man. ‘You and your friend can both lose your heads.’
‘Hey!’ came a familiar voice.
A figure in a red floaty dress.
‘Hey, fools! Look behind you,’ yelled Nour.
After the ultimate decoy has been deployed, the children scarper and, injured, Chaya is separated from Nour and Neel. In agony due to her injuries, she desperately tries to steady her racing thoughts and here is a tender moment where she really struggles to believe that everything is going to be okay. She reasons that she’s done enough in terms of protecting her father and enough to clear Neel’s name. Here, there is so much love.
Then, in not so much an ‘exit pursued by a bear’ moment, rather an ‘exit upon the King’s own elephant’, the significance of the novel’s title becomes clear:
And then in the distance, through a blur of pain, Chaya saw her getaway vehicle. She hobbled up and untied the chain from her post. Black spots sawm in front of her eyes as she scrambled up and felt the calming, gentle sway take her off to find Neel.
Perfect for exploring the intricacies of characterisation with children and also meaty topics such as loyalty and the lengths that someone might go to save another being. A captivating read written with such lyricism that it would nicely support children in lower key stage 2 with their understanding of a writer’s craft.
(Harper Collins Children’s Books, January 9th2020)
As any fan of Welford would attest, he is a master at weaving together intricate plot-lines and characterisation that make such genres as fantasy and sci-fi utterly beguiling and relatable.
The story-line is a familiar one: child goes missing; family are understandably distraught; unlikely heroes become heroes of the hour. But this is where the simplicity ends, for the friendship that is forged between Ethan – twin brother of the missing Tammy; Iggy – quirky yet fast-thinking and astute; and Hellyann – alien(!) is something rather beautiful. Hellyann hails from another place and time where Originals (humans) are being captured from earth and transported to then be exhibited by Collectors in what turns out to be a zoo, of sorts. And although the inhabitants of Hellyann’s planets are told what to think and feel by the Advisor, Hellyann has always felt different. For she is sentient: she thinks and feels of her own volition and others have noticed this too:
The rest all did the same as Kallan told me their names. All of them were old, all of them looked at me with an intensity and warmth that I had never experienced in my life, until by the end of the circle of introduction, I found it hard to swallow because of my emotion.
And so it is that she becomes the chosen one – young enough and courageous enough - to return the captured Tammy to her family. Except things don't quite go according to plan…
The warmth and love that pours out of the pages in this beautifully-crafted story is tangible and the sweetest thing. How Ethan reflects upon the need to protect his parents during the most awful of scenarios yet seeks counsel from his gran, who eventually believes that the unbelievable (that is, alien abduction) has happened, creates a thread of the unbreakable bonds that we might have with family. And as a character, Ethan is deep-thinking and perceptive and his development across the story (good for making comparisons within a text with children) is rather extraordinary to witness. In particular, the connection he has with his twin Tammy – the one thing that keeps him hope-filled all the time that she is missing - is tangible:
Tammy and I have this thing. We haven’t done it for ages, actually, and it sounds silly written down. We’d both (Ethan and his mam) hug together and try to squeeze as hard as we could, until she begged us to let her go. ‘I cannit breathe!’ she’d say, but she would be laughing at the same time. Then, when we’d released, she’d say, ‘Double trouble!’
And I so want to do that again and it makes me really sad but I can’t tell Mam because that would make her even sadder…
And the novel’s climax where all has been righted - different but still right – is a moment of extreme emotions including a most-unexpected but welcome reconciliation. A stunningly written tear-jerker perfect for children in upper key stage 2.
Posted in: Literature Review
