by Sam Juliano
Lisa Brown’s The Airport Book is a study in words, pictures and voice bubbles of the unique experience of traveling on a plane. Specifically it chronicles the fast and furious pace that greets an interracial family of four from the moment they wake to complete the packing of their suitcases, on through the taxi ride to the airport , and the seeming mass confusion and endless lines that invariably challenge even the most patient of passengers. Brown’s vision of a travel day is one rife with confusion, tight security, and long lines that inform each and every new step of preparation leading up to takeoff. People of all ages, races and vocations are united in their enlistment for air travel, and no matter what walk of life one hails from they must all play by the same rules. Much like a visit to a theme park, or a tour of our nation’s capital every requirement or imperative activity requires toiling on a line from the moment one enters the airport. Brown’s vibrant and vivid India ink and watercolor on paper vignettes project urgency, but also a measure of exhilaration. Aside from business travelers who spend a good part of their weeks in the air, planes are filled by first-time passengers, those who rarely fly and some that may board maybe once or twice a year.
Brown sets her travel day in motion by spotting some of the family members in their apartment house on the end papers. The boy is readying for a shower while the young girl is seen with her sock monkey. Throughout the book she haunt the rest of her family for its whereabouts in a narrative thread that recalls Mo Willems’ Knuffle Bunny. Mom and Dad hasten the pace before entering a taxi that takes them over a “flat ground” highway during a cloudburst to an international airport, which intimates their geographical destination. Upon arrival on the departure deck the air is prevalent with emotional send-offs, physical embraces and tears. Curbside check-in includes some items -like a violin case – as easily discernible, while other makeshift pieces are insoluble. A crosswalk procession features travelers with carry-ons, cases on wheels and backpacks, while the age old airport declaration of insecurity is heard in an air shuttle when a wife curtly asks her husband if he remembered the tickets, to which he responds in the affirmative. Meanwhile our quartet of adventurers, having checked in are heading inside.
Then, as an seasoned frequent flyer knows only too well, there are lines for every subsequent stage of the journey beginning with those where one secures tickets and checks in their larger bags, prerequisite steps that requite identification. While awaiting their turns people talk on cells, listen to music on their headphones, access the internet and accept well wishes from employees. The continuing drama of the lost sock monkey is played out as the little girl see its legs in a case being carted away while the fearful mom lodges another inquiry as to whether or not it was even packed to the clueless Dad. Brown’s striking canvas is clothes cognizant, right down to a lineup of shoes that illustrate that travelers run the full gamut from casual to decorative. In this day and age of traveling anxiety and traveling anxiety all passengers are compelled to move through an x-ray scanner, though Brown’s relatively benign depiction of this doesn’t include the body frisking that often greets unsuspecting ticket holders when the security machinations are especially aggressive. In any event shoes must come off, and little sister wails when she must all also receive the scrutinizing treatment. A long line of bags and suitcases are seen moving on a conveyor, including the mysterious brown one with the tape and the fragile sticker previously eyed on the sidewalk.
Brown’s most stunningly detailed tapestry in the book is the grand spread depicting an airport’s multi-faceted catering to all a passenger’s needs and wants, and the rich dashes of pastel colors generously applied to line drawings superbly envisions the teaming mass of people each involved in their own pursuit: a cell phone wielding woman gets her heels polished; people peruse a book shop; several enjoy drinks and food on veranda tables-one dapper middle-aged man resembles Hercule Poirot, while another sports Arabic head ware; a woman makes a purchase at a Cafe Bistro; another female sits on a pillow reading, while transportation manifests itself by way of moving passenger belt, a beeping tram car, bicyclers, and oldest form of transportation in world history – that managed by the wayfarer, heading in all directions. A sailor with a green satchel, an employee pushes a wheelchair, another with earphone works a trash barrel, two teens with conspicuous waxed hair head towards the gate, while one man checks flights on a board, while two men wearing brown derby hats -one with a suitcase bearing the name “W. Wright” and one noticeably disheveled one treks in the opposite direction carrying a musical instrument. Across the bottom of the two-page canvas is that ubiquitous conveyor belt, the bane of any airport experience, and the ultimate destination is broached on the following page, when workers place them in wheeling compartments that are trollied over to the plane.
Brown delightfully offers levity to an experience for many that can be described as wholly excruciating when she revisits the cranky old couple. The insecure wife queries her husband if he remembered the boarding passes. Meanwhile the monkey drama continues when the boy assures her sister that she didn’t see it. Others access the internet, talk on the phone, complete sit-ups and read newspapers during the interminable wait at Gate B32. Mom finds a compelling thematic connection to read “On the Road” while suitcases and food are brought onto the plane and gas is loaded into the fuel tanks. Brown asserts what so many who travel have doubtlessly thought when heading through that final tunnel – that is has the shape and construction of an accordion. The phone hugging woman continues her conversation even while boarding. The canvas that pictures the front of the plane and the insides of the tunnel is two-toned and pictorially exquisite.
The author-illustrator shows the inside of the plane as a place where virtually every inch is spoken for. Top level compartments, underneath storage and cramped seating paints the ultimate picture of claustrophobia, dooming those in this case who are privy to the missing monkey charade. Those who are not seem reasonably content as the life jacket moderator offers up a demonstration of how to use it in the event of an emergency. Even Brian Paulsen’s Newbery Honor winning Hatchet, a book about a plane crash and a boy who survives in the wilderness after he is miraculously spared during the disaster is cleverly woven into this scene. Below a sniffing dog in the lower compartment makes marked headway in the sock monkey enigma.
Brown marvelously captures the frantic activities in this crowded community during the time when the food handlers wheel the carts up the aisle, offering snacks and drinks. A baby’s deafening cries, and the young girl’s gamesmanship leaves some exasperated, but at least one with eye covers has managed to fall asleep. Those who find that movies help kill some time succeed in partaking of that option too. The plane is caught in an above clouds illustration that depicts how peaceful and flawless practically all flights are despite the internal chaos. The handsome soft turquoise and white project this contrast. We next see a mildly overhead view of the baggage claim conveyor, where the little girl is over the moon when she she spots the now fully visible monkey, as the boy asks where he came from. The usual suspects are hanging on their cells, petting their animals, and yet again we are reminded how one unfortunate balsing man must absorb yet another annoying query from his wife, who now wants to be sure that hotel reservations have been negotiated. A limo driver holds up a sign for a party named “Earhart” while just visible on the page edge is one of those guys with the Martian hairdos first spotted in indoor mall spread. Young readers are given more clues by the drastic seasonal difference of apparel worn by two people meeting up, as the one with the overcoat and hood was seen in a previous tapestry.
Another mystery is solved in the next to last spread depicting the outside of the terminal when that mountain shaped parcel is opened to reveal a sculptured head resembling the person being visited. All kinds of emotional salutations and affectionate hugs follow, and the little girl is as pleased as pink to embrace her monkey. The striped scarf waering man who has since shorn his hood is unveiled, and the Poirot clone leaves the scene in a manner that suggests that all the riddles have been sorted out. The family are escorted off by the Father’s kin, and in that reassuring glorious weather spread in conjunction with the concluding palm tree-laden end papers we can safely exclaim Aloha! and know we are in the right element.
Brown is a best-selling New York Times author-illustrator who last year competed in the Caldecott Medal Contender series for her sublime drawings in Mummy Cat. This year she has once again demonstrated why she is one of the finest illustrators out there, and to boot she has captured the unbridled airport mania all the travelers among us. The Caldecott committee could well be boarding themselves in late January.
Note: This is the seventeenth entry in the ongoing 2016 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 30 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 January 22nd, hence the reviews will continue till two days before that date.
What an amazing book Sam! Your review appears to imply you are an airport regular yourself! Terrific write-up. Love that aside with the sock monkey.
Frank, I have certainly traveled my share of times, but not nearly as much as many other people I know. I did fly over to the United Kingdom back in September for that exceeding sadness as you will recall, so the airport experience is indeed fresh on my mind. the sock monkey embellishment is wonderful. Thanks for the kind words my friend.
Oh my! I’ve used this book with my first grade class. They were so inquisitive, though many admitted traveling to their parents’ countries in central and south America. The details and various clues are marvelous.
I really loved this review, so excellent.
Karen, I’m thrilled to hear you’ve used it and are such a big fan yourself. Thanks for the kind words.
Sam, you convey in great style the ironies implicit here in great canniness en route to vast uncanniness. Though here the canny definitely prevails, those sights of the vehicle on the tarmac attest to more than a jam.
Once again your insights are deeply appreciated my friend! And you are quite right about the vehicle on the tarmac, Jim! 🙂
A fun book and an eagle-eye treatment of it. Beautifully written Sam.
A fun book indeed Peter. Thanks for the very kind words my friend.
Sam — As a person who racks up oodles of air miles, commercial and private, I really enjoyed the vivacity of this book. The author-illustrator, Lisa Brown, sets everything in forward motion (even when sitting quietly in your seat you’re hurtling forward at multiple hundreds of miles per hour).
A connoisseur of practical, user-friendly luggage, I particularly enjoyed the verbiage and illustrations surrounding the different types that people carry (think stow under seat or in overhead compartment) and/or check—this always involves a trip to the baggage carousel.
Love it!
Laurie, I know well you know every nook and cranny of this terrain, and as such I appreciate your splendid insights into the experience. Love your appraisal of the madness surrounding the baggage compartments. Thank you so much my friend.
This should be mandatory reading for all regular plane travelers. Great idea, superbly executed. This review is simply incredible Sam. You really went above and beyond with it.
Celeste I like that suggestion! Ha! Thanks for the very kind words my friend.