by Sam Juliano
When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are…
It is human nature for one to wish what they are not. Kids always think in terms of big. Many want to be taller, some want to be much stronger, others want to be anything other than what they are. The most famous wisher of all started his life as a wooden puppet, and his hankering was to become a real boy. The funny thing about wishing though is that if it were possible to actually happen it would eventually leave this advocate for change none the happier for forfeiting the very special and unique qualities before the transformation. The life cycle is always the same. Kids want to become adults, and are all to willing to bypass the formidable years to achieve equality with parents, relatives or some others they idolize. Young ones try to emulate the behavior and mannerisms of adults, and fantasize of being different, usually in the most extreme manifestation. Invariably, when they do get older they regret that their childhood wasn’t longer nor better appreciated. It is a lesson they learn too late, but as kids would never understand this concept. Wishing is usually harmless, but the consequences of avarice has been well noted in the literature. A royal flounder repays a kind fisherman for letting him off the hook, but repeatedly granting his wife a series of wishes. Prodded by her greed, he wishes (and gets) a cottage, castle, servants, and queen of the realm, but when his wife asks to be God, they are returned to their poor shanty. In W. W. Jacobs’ The Monkey’s Paw a bid for a lot of money leads to unspeakable tragedy and a macabre conclusion.
No such melodrama surfaces in Margarita Engle’s Tiny Rabbit’s Big Wish, the story of a hare who wishes for the stars, but ends up appreciating who and what he is, and is endowed with. Engel, a renowned Cuban-American author, has won numerous awards for her work. She was the first Latino to win a Newbery (Honor) for her masterful The Surrender Tree, and she was the recipient of a Pure Belpre Medal and two Pure Belpre Honors, the American Library Association’s category for Hispanic authors and artists. In a career as rich and varied as Engel’s it is all too easy to take for granted (as it’s title character did) the exceeding charm and wide appeal of a book like Tiny Rabbit, especially with its pre-K focus and seemingly modest presentation. Yet a close inspection yields a bountiful of riches that includes fabulously concise prose from Engel and often sublime acrylic paintings from David Walker. Although the Caldecott bid is Walker’s delicate book exudes superb chemistry between author and artist. Walker is a former art director for Hallmark, and the illustrator for several other children’s books, and this year’s bid for Caldecott recognition is his first.
Rabbit lays on the grass dreaming of becoming very big. He wants eyes the size of the moon and and legs as tall as the biggest trees. Two bluebirds watch him act out his fantasies on wooden stilts in a turquoise forest. He wishes for a nose as big as an elephant’s trunk and a tail as colossal as a mountain. soon enough rabbit realizes that wishing is futile. As he stubbornly continues, he grows a bit. High hopes as in the vertical span of a giraffe and the might of a gorilla remain unanswered, but rabbit’s ears grow much larger, ears that help him stay abreast of wildlife predators and ominous weather. in the end “smart and small” are the perfect ways to be.
A number of Walker’s saturated acrylic tapestries are beautiful. A single panel featuring rabbit with his head looking skyward surrounding by red flowers is lovely; both giraffe spreads, are vivid and colorful – you gotta love the way he uses circular patterns for the leaves on trees, and incorporates bluebirds. The gorilla spread is wonderfully reassuring for kids, and the colors patterns evoke Maurice Sendak; rabbit on stump offers up lovely color convergence; the vignettes showing all that rabbit can hear are marvelous, as are the ones where rabbit can hear the leaves rustling, and a hungry lion licks his chops. Walker’s employment of soft pastel colors make for a ravishing experience for the youngest, while seducing older kids and adults with sublime picture book art. Engel’s plea to be what you are, and respect your own capabilities and special qualities is given visual conscription by Walker’s exquisite illustrations. There are stars on the cover and lighting up the end papers. They serve as a glowing summary judgement of this splendid Caldecott Medal Contender, one where little is better than big.
Note: This is the forty-third entry in the 2014 Caldecott Medal Contender series. The series does not purport to predict what the committee will choose, rather it attempts to gauge what the writer feels should be in the running. In most instances the books that are featured in the series have been touted as contenders in various online round-ups, but for the ones that are not, the inclusions are a humble plea to the committee for consideration. It is anticipated the series will include at least 40 titles; the order which they are being presented in is arbitrary, as every book in this series is a contender. Some of my top favorites of the lot will be done near the end. The awards will be announced on February 2nd, hence the reviews will continue to the end of January.
Sometimes the smaller books make a bigger impact that the ones everyone talk about. The art in this book is gorgeous and the story timeless. What’s there not to like?
Absolutely Peter. Right on every point my friend. Many thanks as always!
I can see why you like this book so much, Sam, but somehow it doesn’t speak to me. Books are like that, sometimes. 🙂 I anything had made me want to give it a try though, it’d have been your review. Sterling stuff!