The Snowchild
I just adore, The Snowchild, by Debi Gliori, her gentle tale of Katie, a little girl with, apparently, no play-mates, who is always: "On the shut-out rim of one game was a small girl called Katie. Katie left-out. Katie-who-didn't-know-how-to-play."
Sweet Katie, why oh why are children so tough on each other? Gliori's delicate book carefully nudges this miserable subject, a child left out by everyone else. Until eventually one snowy day in the park:
"...full of friends, snowfriends, snowchildren, real friends, real children. And Katie wasn't watching them from the shut-out rim. She was there in the circle, playing with her new friend."
Her use of the hyphen I think is just perfect, sewing her thoughts together gently pulling us into her world.
The illustration is old-fashioned, evocative and very tangible, full of detail, so that both adult and child can look and look and look.
Published in 1994 the book is timeless.
Sweet Katie, why oh why are children so tough on each other? Gliori's delicate book carefully nudges this miserable subject, a child left out by everyone else. Until eventually one snowy day in the park:
"...full of friends, snowfriends, snowchildren, real friends, real children. And Katie wasn't watching them from the shut-out rim. She was there in the circle, playing with her new friend."
Her use of the hyphen I think is just perfect, sewing her thoughts together gently pulling us into her world.
The illustration is old-fashioned, evocative and very tangible, full of detail, so that both adult and child can look and look and look.
Published in 1994 the book is timeless.
posted by Unknown at
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
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