by Sam Juliano
And we buried you/In the ground/With ferns and flowers
Some of the most beloved and acclaimed works of children’s literature have handled the theme of death with grace and dignity. John Gunther’s Death Be Not Proud, Katherine Patterson’s Bridge to Terabithia, Wilson Rawl’s Where the Red Fern Grows and Pearl S. Buck’s The Big Wave have examined this most delicate of subjects from both an intimate and universal vantage point. Though none other than what may well be the most venerated of all books written for the younger set, Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White subtly weaves in the poignant understanding of death as a part of life and continuity, most American picture books have opted to steer clear, knowing well that some young readers would not be able to approach the subject with any semblance of maturity, some others still would be disturbed. Contemporary picture books featuring the theme are rarer still, and in some instances like City Dog, Country Frog (2010) by Mo Williams and Jon. J. Muth, it is partially obscured by the concurrent cycle of life motif. The resurrection theme is examined in Bob Staake’s Bluebird, to exhilarating resonance. European picture books have generally been more audacious in exploring the subject, with achingly beautiful works like the Norwegian My Father’s Arms are a Boat by Stein Erik Lunde and Oyvind Torseter and the Danish Cry, Heart, But Never Break by Glenn Ringtved and Charlotte Pardi dealing with death candidly and with keen psychological insight.
In 1938 one of most beloved writers in the history of children lit -Margaret Wise Brown- wrote The Dead Bird, a spare situational story about four children who find a lifeless bird and proceed to send it off with a ceremony, a song and a burial and grave marker. The story’s re-release in 1958 featured new illustrations by the renowned Remy Charlip, who consigned this somber narrative a mournful tone throughout, via exceedingly dark hues in a restrictive three color scheme. Charlip’s interpretation was one of austerity and reverence for the dead. This past year, the extraordinarily gifted Christian Robinson, an avowed fan of Brown’s work re-imagined this seminal work more in the vein of a celebration of life. His palette is brighter, his scheme more colorful, his space far less claustrophobic. His characters are no less saddened than Charlip’s but they are shown as more upbeat. Charlip’s interpretation was largely a spiritual one, Robinson’s more ritualistic. While there can be no question that the earlier version possessed a sedate beauty, an earthiness and ethereal quality, Robinson has opened up the pictorial possibilities of this melancholic tale, employing his acrylic paint, mixed media and photoshop techniques to create art that is breathtakingly beautiful in design, richness of the chalky pastel colors and striking contrast. Like a veteran filmmaker working to maintain shot virtuosity, he moved from mid-range panels to close-ups, fusing the capabilities of the form with a harrowing realistic tone.
The dust jacket cover, replicated on the hard inside canvas displays the somber mise en scene, showing the dead bird in a field of flowers. We only see the legs of the children, so as not to violate the responses that serve as an emotional anchor to a single episode story. The funeral bunting is displayed in the bold finality of the title letters, with black emphasizing the key word. The end papers, with their ordered line up of tree tops and the background of buildings denote a city park. A wide stream and a bridge are included in this funereal canvas noted for its emptiness. The copyright and title pages work in unison to introduce the five characters who will be serving as pallbearers, professional mourners and gravediggers in this life’s lesson of understanding that death is a part of life. One of the two boys is dressed as a fox, the other carries a blue kite, while one of the girls wears blue wings. A dog completes this fun-seeking quintet. The bird’s discovery is shown in a remarkable milling shot, with seemingly perfect splashes of colors in the clothes, costumes and objects. A stunning sense of urgency manifests itself in the shocked expressions, and slow realization this bird will never fly again. Robinson does wonders in this spread, dominated as it is by positioning, hollow eyes and speechlessness. The minimalist procession proceeds over the bridge and into the forest. At the burial spot they dig a hole, line the bottom of the shallow pit with sweet ferns, and wrap the bird up in grapevine leaves. Flowers are placed on top before the dirt covering.
Unlike Charlip, whose illustrative response to the book’s powerfully moving song elegy at the burial site is a spacious metaphysical canvas, Robinson stresses the communal aspect of this saddest of events, by having the four children hold hands in a circle, with the dog in proper negotiating position. The serene moment is captured in the book’s most grief-stricken canvas, one replayed in graveyard services dating back to the beginnings of humanity. Robinson’s stark images show bare mournful expressions, before the close in capture of the covering stone that reads: Here Lies a bird that is dead. The next double page spread is arguably the book’s most spectacularly exquisite. It is a close-up of the flowers, wild violet plants and geraniums, white and yellow with smaller pink pedals, a real tour de force of pastoral sublimity.
Brown of course well understood that for children this seeming epiphany was nothing more than a brief diversion in their impressionable young lives, and she rightly suggests they will eventually forget. But until that time they visit the grave, sing and put fresh flowers in and around the stone. The boy with the kite finally is able to hone his craft, as the girl with the wing glides across the grass, the one with the fox costume performs in front of the dog while the other girl frolics. The back end papers maintain the serenity of the opening with the repeat art, strengthening the perception of this work as a chamber piece.
Few books of this or any year for that matter are as affecting and as lovely as The Dead Bird. One of the country’s finest children’s book illustrators has crafted a unique interpretation, one that honors the dead, but celebrates the living. Somehow Robinson’s world view matches his magisterial tapestries. The Dead Bird is a masterpiece that should be gaining the undivided attention of the committee.
Note: This is the twenty-seventh 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 a beautiful book, and your touching review does it full justice and then some. Death is a touchy subject, though I see this book was originally written in the late 30’s. Robinson is one of the best out there. I loved Leo: A Ghost Story, Gaston and Last Stop on Market Street.
Thanks so very much for the kind words Frank. Yes, death is unquestionably one of the most difficult subjects for kids. Hence it is pretty amazing it was tackled that many years ago, though with good taste and restraint. I love all those books too!
A soaring lyrical evocation Sam. You make me reflect on just how much imaginative thought and creative effort must go into books of this calibre. I was particularly pleased to see white kids and kids of color in friendship in the story.
In an ideal world a child’s first confrontation with death and grieving would be like this. Or the passing of a beloved pet. Sadly of course too many children have and continue to be confronted with death as trauma.
This story has deep echoes for me. When I was 16 or so I had my first brush with depression – though I had no inkling then that this melancholia was depression. I had turned away from my friends and retreated into a dark exile. In the depths of this despair one afternoon I came across a dead sparrow undet a tree and the experience pushed me initially into an even deeper despair. Then a wave of pity came over me and like the kids in the book but in my aloneness I used leaves and twigs in a ritual burial of that tiny bird. Only now do I realise the magnificence of that wholely innocent ceremony. It was compassion revealed to me and mine to hold precious. Yet as we all do I let get it pushed to the back of the cupboard much too often.
Only now do I realise the magnificence of that wholly innocent ceremony. It was compassion revealed to me and mine to hold precious. Yet as we all
Tony, this comment is simply sensational. I really can’t tell you how much I appreciate such passion, insights and application. I must also thank you for the incredibly kind words. Yes that is an excellent point about the mixed race friendship. The book itself was done by children’s book icon Margaret Wise Brown all the way back in the late 30’s. She has done several other books that are regarded as supreme classics. Yes I agree that this kind of introduction to death would be ideal for young kids, but sadly too many have much more damaging initiations. You yourself have lived through/have done exactly what the kids in the book have,having shown the deepest level of compassion. I don’t connect myself with this event, though a few times there were burials of animals in boxes. As to this book, it has moved me as much as any other book in the series. To say it is one of the 2 or 3 favorites for me is pretty much the way I feel. Again I appreciate this precious comment.
I agree on Mr. D’Ambra’s comment. An amazing remembrance that brings first hand experience to the book’s theme.
Aye Tim agreed! Thank you.
A lovely piece of writing, Sam, and I can understand how Robinson’s illustrations speak to you. They’re not for me, alas, but that’s my fault rather than the illustrator’s. (Essentially, when I was a kid I was told I should like this style, so . . .)
Thanks so much for the very kind words John. I understand. Styles of illustrations vary, and for sure some are not for all. I will be doing Robinson’s other great work of 2016 -SCHOOL’S FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL- so if you happen to be on to see that I’d be interested in seeing if there was a change in taste of appreciation. Thanks again my friend!
Robinson’s art is remarkable. I know of this book and must get hold of a copy. Beautiful review.
Thanks Ricky. I assure you that you won’t be sorry.
Sam — We taught our son early on that death isn’t the end. Rather, it’s a continuation. So this book’s illustrator — Christian Robinson — who “honors the dead, but celebrates the living” seems perfect to me!
Absolutely Laurie, and this is the precise way we have taught our own kids. As always many thanks my friend!
I thought Robinson’s “Josephine” would win one of the medals. And last year I didn’t feel they would give it to him for “Market Street”. Your review is magnificent, one of the best of the entire series. A lot of personal passion has been imparted. The book would be deserving if they decided to honor it.
Tim, you make an excellent point about JOSEPHINE, which many though was headed for the winner’s circle. What you say about THE DEAD BIRD’S status as a deserving book is right on the money. Thanks so much for the exceedingly kind words.
I really like the lyrical possibilities to the fore in this remarkable and sensitively introduced selection of yours, Sam! While confronted with that sudden gap in their still tiny play land, the figures take up the event being brushed not by death as a horror but as a dawning upon the fleeting nature of their own vivacious presence. This shorthand drama conveys a light, modest aptness about such such an ending.
Fantastic comment Jim! I can’t thank you enough! So true about the interpretation of death by this exceedingly young fraternity. There is no horror, just a beautifully delicate, if somber connection with death. Their own “vivacious presence” is a superb way to put it!!!
Sam, when I saw the Facebook link, I resolved to find a copy at the library. However, it will take at least five days before it arrives. I still can say that I am also an admirer of Christian Robinson, and can cite a half dozen books I’d rate on the highest level. From what I can see this is a moving work. You really brought your A game to this review.
I am so happy you included this one; as you mention it has been popular for a very long time. Such gorgeous illustrations by a master.
Thank you for this beautiful review.
Thank YOU Celeste! And very happy to hear you are pleased with this selection.
I have a difficult time picking either the Charlip or the Robinson illustrations over the other. They are both wonderful and unique.
Emily, thank you for stopping by! I can’t argue with you on that remotely.
Sam, I enjoy your blog. FYI, the Remy Charlip was a limited palate due to the printing practices of the time- the colors he used were actually extraordinary. We put together this digital exhibit to help explain the process http://gallery.lib.umn.edu/exhibits/show/pre-separated-art/presep
I hope you have a bit of time to explore it.
Lisa, hello and thank you so much for the kind words and of course for this fascinating clarification through process and discussion of the way art was created in stages. I knew of this process, but I didn’t realize for some reason that Charlip’s work was done in this manner. But yes the end result actually does appear to confirm this. i do of course agree that he work in THE DEAD BIRD and on other books was indeed extraordinary. I really appreciate this my friend, and will now happily add the library to my blog site side bar!
Sam — It’s been a while, but I DO remember this wonderful book 🙂