by Sam Juliano
In the elegiac A House That Once Was, a 2018 picture book by Julie Fogliano with illustrations by Lane Smith, a derelict house is a monument to memories. The ghostly cabin in the deep woods seems well past the point of architectural resuscitation, and continues to exist in a kind of spectral sphere as a shrine to times well lived. A similarly dilapidated shack encased in tar paper and nearly to the point of no return is brought back to life when a big and impoverished Depression-era family perform their own effective method of CPR by employing handyman ethics in the sumptuous Home in the Woods by Eliza Wheeler, an arresting story of grit and fortitude set in the Minnesota woods based on the true to life hardships of her grandmother’s family. Wheeler’s book, a love letter to her Nan, the fifth oldest in a family of eight, is a work of astounding craftsmanship in every aspect of its construction. The painterly dust jacket, bathed in gorgeous yellow, green and turquoise in its evocation of the titular structure, establishes setting in the most pictorially resplendent of terms. The inside cover, a replication of the text’s winter tapestry and a work of art unto itself, depicts two members of the family heading out to find food may inspire adult readers to recite The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep and miles to go before I sleep. An annotated map of the family’s rural woodland hamlet appears on the end papers and their own shack lies near a swamp, with only deer paths falling between. The title page, like the dust cover sports jumbo-font black India ink letters and a miniature facsimile of the most-unlikely of homes for nine people.
Wheeler lays out the family dynamic in a striking full-frontal. The oldest child and the male head of the household after the passing of the father is fourteen-year old Ray. The family matriarch is thirty-four and her off-spring are comprised of three sons and five daughters, one of whom is six-year old Marvel, Wheeler’s grandma. Lovingly adorned in the one-quarter white space adjacent to the canvas denoting the family’s home-searching expedition is a locket of the deceased Dad and the formidable home they were forced to vacate as a result of his passing. Dad lives with the angels now, and we need to find a new home. In an afterward she relates that the father did manage to make one trip to the house they would find, but he succumbed to cancer the very next day. Summer. The family first comes upon the house in serious disrepair. Marvel, who is the ongoing point of view narrator observes that even though it is hot out the shack looks cold and empty. Still, Mom persists with pointed optimism. In short order they find that Mom’s hope for “treasures” is answered with modest if life-sustaining discoveries including a working water pump in the basement, a rusty oven and potbelly stove on ground level and plenty of accessories like shelves of old glass jars and box springs for beds. Wheeler opts for a splendid overhead to blueprint the sparse but vital layout on the main floor. Though big brother Ray is confident they can make a go of it Marvel isn’t keen on its home-making properties. Though the inside will seemingly requite a Herculean effort Dal and Bea discover rich soil that will encourage seed growth. The artist’s rain canvas showing crystal drops falling on dark greens leaves is wholly sublime as is the gleaming turquoise surface of a lily pad pond where frogs sing happy songs in a canvas that visually if not contextually evokes Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
The woods are a tangle of birch, poplar, pine, and sugar maple. A double page spread of leafy green and white splendor chronicles Marv’s effective negotiation of deer paths as Bea and Marvel join in the fun. But as Wheeler subsequently attests to in food stuff drawings there is far more practical value of the paths. In a scene that would give Robert McCloskey’s Sal a run for her money the family consume and fill up pails with blueberries and raspberries and the artist’s depiction is wholly sublime. The arrival of autumn beckons nature to put on its most ravishing color display, one Wheeler describes as “rust” and “ruby.” Eventually the mum (the European version of Mom as this is a Norwegian-American family) gains employment in the nearby town, leaving her reliable brood to split wood, pull weeds, pick veggies, hang clothes, sweep and wash-up. A kitchen scene of a table aplenty of fruits and vegetables may have adult readers thinking of classic television shows like The Waltons or Little House on the Prairie. Mum’s berry preserves are jarred for the winter months and are likened as “buried treasure” for their incalculable value to a growing family. A store front window displaying so many desirable items turns out to be nothing more than a showcase of the unattainable as mum’s salary can only bay for the most basic items such as a bag of flour that Ray walks out holding. The familial silence on the walk home underscores their frustration. If you can’t buy what you want you can also ad-lib as the family does in a newly-invented game where fine hats, sweets, gasoline, fake jewelry and money made of leaves help them to imagine.
Winter and the chilling Minnesota temperatures necessitate indoor activities like patchwork and writing. An incandescent single page tapestry portrays the family minus the two who left to find food snuggled around the wood stove. Ray and Marv surprise their mom with a turkey and she in turns provides them with “A feast for the kings and queens of the forest” with a wild turkey main course and blueberry pie for desert. As the snow falls “in a blanket of diamonds around the shack” Mum “whispers to the stars” as the children sleep close together on two connected beds. Spring arrives and it beings multi-colored blossoms. Marvel and Bea exchange Mum’s loaf bread and blueberry jam to the neighboring Erickson Farm for a pail of milk and a hat filled with eggs. On the way home Bea identifies the beautiful flowers in bloom: the wood violent, dwarf iris, pink lady’s slipper and pitcher plant as the birds sing happy songs. Marvel carrries flowers and reflects that what kept the family going during the difficult times as love, something -as opposed to what she felt when she first laid eyes on their now cozy abode- she now feels “inside.” Both spring tapestries are as aesthetically beautiful as they are soulfully stirring.
Wheeler’s epic yet intimate work appears to have exceeding Caldecott pedigree and makes you feel that if this book with its ravishing art and inspiring themes can’t win the ultimate award for children’s books, what can? In paying homage to her past Wheeler brings together nature’s beauty and hardships with lyrical prose and intoxicating tapestries. Home in the Woods is a masterpiece.
Note: This is the twenty-fifth and final 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.
“Painterly” — just exactly the adjective that came to mind when I saw that cover illustration. Another great account, Sam, as you sprint toward the finish line!
Thank you so much John! Yes the cover art is ravishing for sure, much as the book is throughout. This review is the final one in the series.
Gorgeous book. Your final essay is a real keeper Sam! Congratulations on another tremendous series! i don’t know how you manage it!
Thank you so much Ricky for the exceedingly kind words! The book is gorgeous indeed.
Beautiful essay, Sam!I’ve been especially touched by the last scene. Remarkably hard work went into their survival. But, then, at the end, a towing navigation! The work leaves us thrilled by what can be done.
Thank you so very much Jim! As always your incomparable perceptions and insights are deeply appreciated as they are on this post!
Dear John—I’m coming late to this—thank you so much for this incredible essay (which is a work of art in itself) about ‘Home in the Woods’, it’s so gratifying to hear these lovely words of praise. Many thanks and warm wishes to you. ~Eliza
Eliza, thank YOU so much! Your book is a treasure for us all!
[Sorry Sam…I called you ‘John’ by accident!] 🙃