dementia

Autumn 2018 Picture Book Round-Up 2

a house for mouse
A House for Mouse by Gabby Dawnay and Alex Barrow
There’s a wonderful satisfaction in spotting literary allusions in texts, as if the author has winked at you, and you looked up to catch it. Sometimes they’re very well hidden – but for children it’s important that the literary allusions are accessible. A House for Mouse plays upon the enticing estate agent theme of looking into other people’s houses, and also the literary allusions game.

Mouse is searching for a new house, but they all seem to have negatives – clear building regulation failures (The Three Little Pigs), architectural issues (Gingerbread house), inaccessibility (Rapunzel’s tower), overcrowding (There was an Old Woman) and so on. He settles on Sleeping Beauty’s castle but realises that in the end, home is where his heart is, of course.

With humour galore, a fairy tale map at the beginning and soft pencil illustrations delineating the different landscapes, this is a comforting and appealing story book that is more about friendship than location. See if the book suits you here.

theres room for everyone
There’s Room for Everyone by Anahita Teymorian
Mouse was wise to share his castle with his friends – Teymorian uses her picture book to point out that although the library has enough space for all the books (she’s clearly never been in my house), and there’s enough room for all the stars in the sky, human beings constantly fight over space – be it on the train or in a larger context of land and war. The message is simple – that with kindness and love there’s enough room for everyone. What might come across as a little sanctimonious and simple becomes more thoughtful if the reader studies the illustrations used to make Teymorian’s point – the clever use of the boundaries of the page, the distorted long-limbed humans, the neat use of lines to create patterns and textures. A warmth oozes from the pages. There’s room for you here.

the dam
The Dam by David Almond and Levi Pinfold
Immediately bringing to mind the beginning of Haweswater by Sarah Hall, a novel tracking the lives of dispossessed people after the flooding of a valley, this may feel like a strange topic for a picture book. Walker, pushing the boundaries, allows Almond to tell the story, based on truth, of a dam building in Northumberland, which led to the flooding of a valley and the village within it. Here, Almond and Pinfold retell the story of the musicians who played music in this lost place before the flooding.

With themes of loss, dispossession, rebirth and the power of creativity, Almond blesses his lyrical text with a deep simplicity, much repetition, and a clear placing of words within their white background. However, it is Pinfold’s brown and dreamy illustrations that provide the atmosphere and haunting quality to the text, showing both the before and after effects with deep pathos, understanding and clever use of soft muted, almost sepia colour. Pinfold brings a clarity to his study of water and structure, rendering the narrative with a distinct sense of place. And the light – the light pours through the book like water into a flooded valley. You can buy it here.

mary and frankenstein
Mary and Frankenstein by Linda Bailey and Julia Sarda
Another atmospheric interpretation in this celebration of the 200th anniversary of the publication of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. Bailey approaches her topic by investigating how the events of Mary’s life brought her to the moment of creativity, exploring how the story of Frankenstein festered and developed within Mary’s mind. From the death of her mother, to the animosity of her stepmother, the mood swings of her father and her travels and influences, Bailey creates a full image of Mary’s young years with just a few carefully chosen words.

Sarda’s illustrations use darkness, shadows and an almost Picasso-like angularity to illuminate Bailey’s words, creating an unforgettable aura in the people she draws and the landscapes she illustrates. The richness of the colour palette – vivid reds, oranges and browns elucidates the richness of the culture within which Mary was subsumed, but it is the clever rendering of the skies, storms, and imagination at work in dark greys that really sets the tone. Many details to look at, including the houses of the era, the interior décor, as well as gravestones and horses and carriage provide an extra thrill for readers. Like Frankenstein itself, an unforgettable book. Inspirational. (The book is titled Mary Who Wrote Frankenstein in the United States). Explore the life of Mary Shelley here.

on a magical do nothing day
On a Magical Do-Nothing Day by Beatrice Alemagna, translated by Jill Davis
Illustrations of a completely different order in this modern award-winning text about finding creativity and adventure out of boredom, now published in paperback. A purposefully gender ambiguous protagonist is told by the mother to put down the computer game and find something to do. The child leaves the house with the computer console in order to be out of sight, yet gradually becomes sucked into the natural environment.

At first miserable and bored, the child soon finds joy and creativity in solitude; the neon orange coat at first marking the child as separate from nature, but then seamlessly blending into the myriad of mushrooms and toadstools, and before long there is wonder to be found in the sensuous delights around – jelly snails, the aroma of fungi, the sifting of earth through fingers. The weather plays its part too, and at the end mother and child bond over quiet contemplation and hot chocolate.

This is a phenomenal book of everyday discoveries, with illustrations that make the reader draw breath. The change in perspective, the clever use of light, tone and vignettes gives the book an excitement, and yet also tender empathy. I’m longing for a Do-nothing Day of my own. You can buy the paperback here.

travels with my granny
Travels With My Granny by Juliet Rix and Christopher Corr
On the surface a vibrant picture book about destinations throughout the world, told by an adventurous Grandmother, this is actually a book about dementia, and explaining to children how to try to understand what people with dementia are going through. The grandmother believes she is really travelling, and the other adults explain that she doesn’t know where she is, but for the child, (again an ambiguous gender) he/she is happy to explore the grandmother’s mind, even if it seems confused.

The illustrations are bright and garish, depicting New York on a bright yellow background with multi-coloured skyscrapers and entertainments – as brash and brassy as Times Square. London is blue, Jerusalem orange, Rome a tender mauve. A few facts punctuate each city – in Delhi the tricycle taxis are rickshaws for example. The information at the back explains about dementia. An important, interesting addition. Buy it here.

Armistice Runner by Tom Palmer

armistice runnerTom Palmer has been writing books about sport for some time, and combining history and sport to bring each of those subjects to children who wouldn’t necessarily access the other. Armistice Runner is Palmer’s latest book, published in conjunction with Barrington Stoke, and placed perfectly in commemoration of the centenary. But publishing something at an opportune time doesn’t make it a success – it takes a whole host of other factors. Factors that Palmer demonstrates in abundance in his latest book – a gripping story that parallels and contrasts historical and modern, pointing to the individual to bring out the whole, and dazzling the reader with its historical research, compelling descriptions, and mostly, its massively empathetic characters.

Lily is struggling to compete in her fell-running races, often losing to a rival competitor named Abbie. Maybe it’s because Lily has other things on her mind. Her grandmother has Alzheimer’s, and her father is increasingly upset by the disease’s development. When they go to visit, Lily’s running reminds her grandmother of her own grandfather – a fell runner himself, who also served at the Front during the First World War. When Lily discovers her great-great-grandfather’s (Ernest’s) diaries, they help her to make connections with her grandmother, as well as give her the confidence and inspiration to keep attacking her own runs.

The book splits off into dual narratives – the reader exploring the historical diaries alongside Lily, and thus as invested emotionally as Lily herself. When she stops reading because of an incident with her family, the reader feels Lily’s frustration at being unable to dive back into the diaries and carry on, and yet the reader also wants to hear more about Lily’s story. It’s a well-concocted balance of voices.

The parts of the book in Ernest’s voice are evocative of the Front (he was a runner messenger on the front lines) and yet not so gruesome or devastating as to put off young readers – a feat hard to capture. Again, the balance is just right. Descriptions of rotting flesh feel very real, as do Ernest’s emotions and friendships, and it becomes apparent how delicate the communications were during the war at the Front, particularly in the days and hours preceding the Armistice.

This is a good view of the effect of war on the individual, and Palmer draws clever comparisons between the two time periods – Lily’s and Ernest’s – in terms of them both dealing with loss, loyalty, friendship and seeing things from others’ points of view.

Palmer deals particularly sensitively with Lily’s grandmother. It can be confusing for a pre-teen, at a time in which they’re dealing with defining their own identity, to have a close relative mis-remember who they are. And Palmer explores Lily’s emotions in dealing with her little brother and her father with regards to their relationships with the grandmother, and her debilitating disease. It can be upsetting to see one’s parents in pain, at the same time as discovering that they’re fallible creatures themselves who don’t have all the answers. And Lily tries to have the right answers for her little brother.

Ernest’s grief is also portrayed – his struggle with the loss of his brother, and seeing his own parents suffer – but Palmer brings in here the emotional release of physical exercise. Fell running is distinctive in the effort needed to run uphill and the strength of character involved, but also the freefall sensation of running downhill in fell running – the battle against one’s own instincts to hold back and retain control.

The story of Lily’s great-great grandfather’s past and the lessons he learns about reaching across barriers, and loyalty to others, helps strengthen Lily’s confidence in dealing with her own rivalries, and her family issues, showing that the past really can inform the future.

And I can’t help but mention how accessible the text is – both in that it has been written for publisher Barrington Stoke, (specialists in producing books for struggling readers), but also in that Palmer has two genders telling the story, and a female dominating, in the type of story (sport and World War I) usually dominated by men.

If the book stimulates discussion and further study, you’d do well to look at Tom Palmer’s own website with its brilliant range of accompanying resources. And you can buy the book here.

Grandparents’ Day

Sunday October 4th was National Grandparents’ Day. Apparently it was introduced to the UK in 1990 by the charity Age Concern, although I have to admit we’ve never celebrated it in our family. I’d like to think we have grandparents’ day most weeks!

There are some wonderful grandparents in children’s literature. Grandpa Joe from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory remains my favourite, after all he introduces the idea of the ‘Vermicious Knid’. Heidi’s relationship with her grandfather is special: “Because I would a thousand times rather be with grandfather on the mountain than anywhere else in the world.”

But how do we explain things to our youngest children when this special relationship goes awry with a disease, or ends with death. Two very clever, effective and enjoyable children’s picture books can help:

Lovely Old Lion

Lovely Old Lion by Julia Jarman and Susan Varley aims to explain Alzheimer’s in a gentle way. Using the picture book trait of anthropomorphism – using animals to convey truths in a less direct way – it tells the story of King Lion, once kingly and now forgetting things.

It is told through the eyes of grandson Lenny, who struggles when his grandfather forgets what he’s doing, and forgets Lenny’s name. The illustrations are softly coloured, yet warm, with acute attention to detail. The King’s crown lays hooked over the edge of the chair, adding to the other signs of the changing role of grandpa lion – from his carefully placed reading glasses to his walking stick – this is a lion beginning to show the vulnerabilities and fragilities of old age. Throughout the book King Lion displays more signs of dementia:

“But not so clever now, not so kingly and sometimes not so kind.”

The words are as carefully chosen as the pictures have been drawn – Grandma explains to Lenny that Grandpa is not himself anymore – which leaves the young cub wondering who he is. It’s a deep and meaningful way of exploring this sensitive topic with young children. The choice of animal is obvious and clever – the once kingly animal, now reduced, most particularly in other’s eyes. Humiliation is a key theme, Lenny sticking up for his grandfather when he is laughed at by other animals.

The other elderly animals help Lenny to understand what’s happening and also to be creative in helping King Lion to remember happy things from his childhood. Towards the end of the book the authors introduce the idea of transience – passing things down through generations as King Lion hands over his crown as the sun sets in the distance. The very last page indicates that King Lion has died, but that what lives on is memory – and of course respect and love for those elderly animals who are still around.

Susan Varley is also the author of Badger’s Parting Gift, which is a fabulous picture book for those grieving for a dead grandparent. You can buy Lovely Old Lion here.

grandad's island

Grandad’s Island by Benji Davies also displays the love and affection of a grandparent for their grandchild, and vice versa, as well as dealing with the inevitability of death.

Syd and his Grandad have a wonderful relationship, established by the fact that Syd can let himself into Grandad’s house whenever he likes. They embark upon an adventure together when Grandad’s house magically turns into a tall ship, and they land on a tropical island where they explore the wonders within.

From the cover, this book beckons the reader with an intense vibrancy of colour and detail, demanding to be explored. Benji Davies always sets his mood with deliberation and tenderness, from The Storm Whale to On Sudden Hill, and this is no different. The landscape of Grandad’s house is suburban England, a beautiful image of a garden with a terrace of houses in the background.  Each illustration in the book shows stunning perspective – from the image of the garden with flowers at the forefront of the picture, and the garden with bicycle against the wall at one step removed, then further back to the house and shed, and then the terraces greyed out still further behind. And when Grandad and Syd build their treehouse on the island, the reader feels as if they are peeking through the foliage to view it.

But it’s the little details that shape the book too – before a voyage is mentioned, the reader can spy a model lighthouse through the window of the house; the attic abounds with treasures from long ago reflecting Grandad’s age, including a gramophone, which also makes its way to the island; Syd holds his nose in a perfect childlike gesture when he jumps from a waterfall; the leaves on the tree on the island are actually held by ants.

Other imagery is stunning – the “ocean of rooftops” – lyrical in text but perfected in illustration as the water blends into the tiled roofs. Davies brings humour in abundance too, from the play on words ‘they soon had everything shipshape’, to the orang-utan bringing a tray of drinks, and Grandad’s youthful glee.

At the end the island becomes a paradise with Grandad’s belongings embedded in the jungle, and Grandad reveals that he has to stay behind. Syd travels home alone, but is lifted from his sadness and loneliness by a surprise delivery. As in Lovely Old Lion, the lasting image is that people live on in memories. It’s certainly one of the most memorable books I’ve read in ages. Purchase it here.

Stonebird by Mike Revell

stonebird
This is a stunningly impressive debut novel. Mike Revell tells the story of 11 year old Liam who moves to a new area so that his mum can be near his grandma, who is suffering from dementia. Liam struggles with the consequences of the move – a new school, his mum’s new friend, as well as with his elder sister’s advance into adulthood. Liam stumbles across an old stone gargoyle in the abandoned church behind his house, and after finding his grandmother’s old teenage diary, discovers that the gargoyle is magic and can make stories come true. Liam harnesses this power of storytelling to right the perceived wrongs in his life, from fixing his grandmother to dealing with the bullies at school, but before long the storytelling becomes more dangerous and powerful than Liam had imagined.

The novel is told in the present tense, giving immediacy and tension to the story, and sweeps the reader along. At the same time, Mike Revell conveys an 11 year old’s feelings and emotions sensitively as Liam witnesses the deterioration of his grandma from dementia, and the frightening fallout effects on the whole family. At no point is the story too bleak though, as Liam is an intensely realistic and likeable protagonist, with an inspirational teacher, a loveable dog and enough support to carry him through. This is a well crafted and deftly written book. Definitely one of the highlights of 2015.