by Sam Juliano
The final message of the soulful picture book Thank You Omu! is unmistakably Capra-esque. The entire premise and rousing finale of the beloved 1946 film holiday jewel It’s A Wonderful Life asserts that no man is a failure if he has friends. In the Capra film a plethora of longtime friends who had been on the receiving end of George Bailey’s generosity, came forward with cash that would save that film’s famed protagonist from financial ruination and thus prevent the darkest of resolves he had pondered without realizing how many people he has moved. Similarly in a third-season episode of the classic The Twilight Zone television series, “The Changing of the Guard” an elderly English instructor at a Vermont boy’s school, Professor Fowler is forced to retire and concludes he meant little to the world. He plans to commit suicide on Christmas Eve, but the ghosts of a number of the boys whose lives he molded appear to tell him how much he meant to them in teaching them valor, loyalty and kindness among other traits. Fowler, like George Baily, opts for life after receiving the greatest compliment one can earn in their lifetime.
While the lower-keyed debut work by author-illustrator Oge Mora may seem more philosophically simplified, it’s principle is no less resonant, it’s moral no less powerful, it’s sense of community no less ingrained in the story’s dynamic. Thank You Omu! will remind many young and adult readers of Marcia Brown’s classroom staple Stone Soup, a folk tale about a trio of soldiers who trick villagers into crafting soup from stones, but with ongoing deceit coax them into coming forth with the ingredients that are actually what make such a full and delicious meal. There is no such subterfuge in Mora’s book, which was inspired by the female role models in her life, especially her culinary-gifted grandmother. Omu, a miracle of acrylic collage, china markers, pastels, patterned paper and old book clippings is a story of magnanimity, gratefulness and the adage that in the end one will be treated as they treat others. To be sure the book is a study of sacrifice and how the most noble in our ranks will think of themselves only after they’ve thought of everyone around them. For Mora it permanently ensconces a love for her grandmother, showcasing how in a world often on narcissist mode benevolence can be transferable.
The narrative opens on the top floor of an apartment building where the titular Omu is toiling over “a thick red stew in a big fat pot” which is perceived as a splendid choice for dinner. A quick taste confirms what readers can see by a three-dimensional wafting of the soup’s aroma right out the window and after Grandma takes a break from her art to read a book, the smell makes it’s way around the block, where a little boy playing with his race car is so smitten with the aroma that he follows it to the apartment of origin and knocks. Grandma asks what brings him there and he identifies “the most delicious smell.” When she tells him it is coming from “thick red stew” he states how yummy that sounds. Omu briefly considers and realizing she made quite a lot of stew she offers the boy some. He quickly devours it, thanks his gracious host and goes on his way. Again Omu retreats to her book and again the same scenario plays out until inevitably another knock is heard. A on-duty female police officer found herself unable to ignore the delicious smell that came her way and she too is anxious to know what is cooking. Just like the boy she is delectably intoxicated and accepts the offer from Omu, who again ladles out the thick read stew of the fat pot. Another more than satisfied customer leaves with her bowl and heads off after thanking her culinary benefactor. Much like this past year’s contagious Stop That Yawn! there is no escape once the aroma reaches one’s nostrils. The most astonishing of those ravished by this certain nominee for the Guiness World Book of Records in the food chapter is a hot dog vendor whose nose would seemingly be indifferent with his daily exposure to sweet onions, spicy mustard, steamy sauerkraut and chili. Hence when this stout gentleman sporting a goatee and wearing a food cap appears at 2:20 P.M. readers know for sure this soup is truly the end all, the dogs’ bullocks as the Brits would say. Again this remarkable good Samaritan antes up a portion, and one would have to conclude the bar has been raised even for one making a living selling cooked foodstuffs on the street.
Perhaps Mora’s grandest tapestry of all is a double page spread visually documenting the viral response to her stew in this blessed urban hamlet. The author relates: Throughout the day, people from all across the neighborhood knocked on Omu’s door. She fed a shop owner, a cab driver, a doctor, an actor, an actor, a lawyer, a dancer, a baker, an artist, a singer, an athlete, a bus driver, a construction worker….even the mayor stopped by! Mora the illustrator meets Mora the author with captivating chemistry as all of these newly minted fans of the intoxicating red stew are created in dazzling 3D collage via colored construction paper cut outs, newspaper clippings replete with a baker’s sweet triangle, a soccer ball, a basketball net, an easel and musical notes in a communal melting pot that unites young with old, working class with professionals, physical laborers with the white collar people. Once again this selfless Grandma proves why she lives by the adage that giving will always come before receiving, much as the saintly Bishop Myriel did in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. But after the all-day run and after as Mora relates the sky darkened, the streetlights brightened, and it was finally time for dinner, the stew is completely gone. Alas her pot is not as bottomless as Strega Nona’s and she is faced with the pangs of hunger. While she subsequently laments the loss of best dinner she has ever fashioned, you can’t doubt that if she had the chance to do it over all again, she’d do the very same thing.
And then the concurrent knocks at the door are answered by the stew-less kind soul who tells all those she fed, who seemingly back for another serving that she hasn’t any left for them. But the little boy, who speaks first, tells this kitchen philanthropist that he is not here to receive this time, but to give. A salad, roast chicken, and baker’s sweets are brought for Omu and perhaps the most powerful expression of appreciation of all, a red envelope from the boy, which contains a simple “Thank You” on a piece of paper inside. The table scene is one of compromised happiness and love, which as the dear elderly matriarch knows will always mean so much more than a pot of stew. Mora’s Last Supper like gathering is another collage tour de force, one where reverence, and deepest sense of appreciation is projected by the facial contours and physical togetherness. The red envelops is stands out radiantly. The inside cover magnified this lovely but potent simplification. And the end papers established the urban setting in a creative and atmospheric way. One of the most accomplished debuts ever for a picture book author-illustrator this intimate and heartfelt work may well have Caldecott committee members smelling the delectable aroma of Grandma Omu’s alluring red stew.
Note: This is the eighteenth entry in the 2018 Caldecott Medal Contender series. The annual venture 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 in the neighborhood of around 25 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 in late January, hence the reviews will continue until around the middle of that month.
Sam, your reviews have peaked at the highest quality and I dare say this one could be your best one of all. I love the Capra-esque entry point. That TZ episode you identify is one of my favorites from the series. From the look of these beautiful collage illustrations and the story that all kids can relate to I think we probably have one of our winners with this book. Omi is a grandma for the ages.
Gorgeous art, no doubt intricate and painstaking to create. I saw a piece in the New York Times several weeks ago also acclaiming this as one of the best picture books of the year. Seems it hit all the right marks and it is quite emotional as well. A titanic review, mesmerizing from first word to last.
Sam — How can the books you review just keep getting better and better. Every time I think you’ve reached the high point, you blow me out of the water. Again! I’m enamored with the work of author-illustrator Oge Mora.
A delicious concoction, Sam!
The world in an aroma, beautifully drawn and colored. The skillful love given by Omu is so deeply disinterested that significant others are very apt to give thanks.
I noted this as a special when it released and it remains one of the year’s finest. I appreciate all your insights and reference in this brilliant review. I feel like stew for lunch!