Caldecott Medal Contender: A Stone Sat Still

by Sam Juliano

Prior to the release of Brendan Wenzel’s A Stone Sat Still, the last time a stone served as a metaphorical witness to changes in weather and the passage of time without the ability to impact the world around it occurred in the beloved Caldecott winning Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by William Steig.  Of course that stone, referred to in that acclaimed text as a rock, was the creation of supernatural forces summoned up by a wish and when the transference took place from life-force to boulder as a result of consternation fueled by the sudden appearance of a lion the Sylvester of the title, an anthropomorphic donkey, was cognizant of everything around it but was unable to act.  Wenzel, the extraordinarily gifted young maestro of several acclaimed picture books, and the winner of the Caldecott Honor a few years ago for the visionary They All Saw A Cat has followed up that picture book masterpiece with what is even a deeper perspective by exploring with documentary-precision the infinite possibilities surrounding a stone’s passage through time and of how practically every aspect of life emanates from the elemental and is part of the scheme of things.   Again mastering the complex pictorial process that brings together mixed media, cut paper, colored pencil, oil pastels and marker with computer negotiation, Wenzel’s art in a children’s level equivalent of Terrence Malick’s cinema with a probing, sometimes introspective prose narration and an existential undercurrent.

Wenzel launches his investigation into the experience with:  A stone sat still with the water, grass and dirt/and it was as it was where it was in the world.  The stone is evoked in darkness and in light in juxtaposition with the time of day.  It looks darker when the sun is shining but during the nocturnal hours it is incandescent and an ideal perch for an owl.  The author-artist then gauges sonic amplification in the space around it, where seagulls utter piercing shrieks and drop objects or eggs that crash against the stationary bedrock.  The artist’s smearing strokes define the discord.  In contrast the stone is at the enter of sustained quietude as the day passes around it with a snake perched on its highest protrusion.  The scene, lightly etched and nearly invisible emits a metaphysical aura.  Wenzel suggests eternal ramifications with his declaration,  and it sat where it sat with the water, grass, and dirt/and it was as it was where it was in the world.  The omnipresent snail, the sentry first eyed on the dust jacket cover is again depicted as a creature attracted to the steady surface.  Wenzel examines the stone’s outer surface in contrasting terms, showcasing a soft body slug straddling the “hard” surface while the most prickly of creatures the porcupine makes the same surface seem smooth by comparison.  The artists paper strand depiction of  the needle-like quills that give predators a sharp reminder that this animal is no easy meal is marvelous.

No color beautifies or accents picture book tapestries quite as effectively as red for the most part and the artist’s rich autumnal half-panel where the fortress like stone is now defined by nature’s ornamentation much as it was previously bathed in green during the Spring.  A foggy day gives the stone a purplish haze and when the white snow lies on the ground the stone is bluish.  “Its all in the perspective” takes center stage as an elk (or perhaps a moose), one of the largest terrestrial mammals in North America and Northeast Asia steps on the stone, now reduced according to the author to a “pebble” while in the following spread a beetle-sized creature transforms the previous member of “Pebbles Anonymous” to the official designation of “hill.”  Wenzel brilliantly explores how the senses of touch and smell can revolve around a stone, with the specifics fully reliant on the creature engaging.  Raccoons can “feel” the stone with impunity as the sharp-nosed wolf uses the stone to identify what animals passed through, perhaps to even aid in the next capture.  The Elk who previously made contact with the stone is outlines in chalk marker on a black base with others who experienced the same.

The refrain stanza emphasizes the stone as constant and immovable in a striking beach setting and serves as a lead-in to some other contrasting roles of the stone in the same environment.  Spiders, grasshoppers and rodents pass through in transient terms while mice (who are shown in a manner that would have made Lio Lianni proud) count the stone as an integral part of their home.  The stone serves as a base in a kitchen, where otters plan to devour smaller fish, and the scene evokes the central deceit of the much-loved Caldecott Honor book Stone Soup by Marcia Brown, a story about passing soldiers duping townspeople into thinking that that a delicious soup make from “stones” has nothing to do with the carrots, potatoes, cabbage and beef they add to the barren pot of hot water, grounded by the perceived “magical” stones.  The stone takes on monarchical implications when a dangerous wildcat sits on it as it were its throne.

Wenzel’s trio of one-third tapestries designating the more practical value of the stone, the specifics dependent on the species, is superlatively wrought.  Geese look down on it as a marker of place, ants use the surface as a map while the snail with its slimy “footprints” creates a maze for small insects to sort out.  The stone can be a safe haven or a trap according to Wenzel and it can tell a story through fossil imprints and serve as a stage from insects such as crickets.  The stone can be seen in a virtual blink by a bird gliding by while the snail will crawl its base infinitely.  This all-purpose stone, the granite equivalent of a man for all seasons is an island in a shallow lake where a seal takes hold, and is covered by a wave when waters levels rise.  In perhaps what is Wenzel’s most magnificent canvas of all is the one sporting the sentence “and the stone was a memory”, an impressionist, circle of life evocation (think “In the beginning God created man”) that intimates there will always be a stone to experience the same exterior perceptions, differing only in the point of view.  With his final interrogative query, the author challengers readers to dispute what is indisputable, that of stones sitting still, ripe for serving as a witness, if unwitting participant in the miracle of life.

Wenzel’s art throughout A Stone Sat Still, much like the theme he examines is at the furthest reaches of possibility in picture books. He may well add to his previous Caldecott Honor with a second acknowledgement for this rapturous fusion of language profundity and resplendent art.

Note:  This is the twenty-third entry in the 2019 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 at children’s book sites, 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 January, hence the reviews will continue until the early part of that month.