At the moment Older Brother, Little Brother and I are in the middle of an intense week of rehearsals for the Ryedale Festival’s Community Opera (in North Yorkshire, UK) - this year’s production is a modernised version of the 15th Century English morality play, Everyman, which, in a nutshell, is about Death sent by God to summon Everyman, who is not at all ready, spiritually, to meet his Maker.
This therefore seemed to be the right time to read together Wolf Erlbruch’s extraordinary picture-book Duck, Death and the Tulip (Gecko Press, 2008) - and the book’s translator, Catherine Chidgey, deserves a special mention too! It might seem strange to describe a book about death as beautiful but then, as I have just said, this is an extraordinary book. As Death slips Duck’s lifeless body into “the great river” at the end, the reader is filled with a deep sense of peace, as well as a rueful recognition of the truth of Death’s final thought: “But that’s life” - and perhaps what this story gets across particularly poignantly, but totally matter-of-factly, is that where there is life, death is inevitable. Duck is definitely horrified (and frightened) to discover at the beginning that Death is stalking her. Who wouldn’t be? Then a surprising thing happens - Duck starts to make friends with Death. What follows includes some exquisite moments, such as where Death gets cold when Duck takes him off to the pond for a swim -
‘Are you cold?’ Duck asked. ‘Shall I warm you a little?’
Nobody had ever offered to do that for Death.
Duck’s musings offer much food for thought: all the time she is preparing herself for the fact that sometime soon, she’s not sure exactly when, she will die. Erlbruch’s writing is deft in expressing the tension between loving life and preparing to let go of it. His artwork is haunting too and Duck, Death and the Tulip is a worthy follow-up to Erlbruch’s 2006 Hans Christian Andersen Award for illustration.
A caveat, though: straightforward as it appears, Duck, Death and the Tulip raises complex ideas, which need to be given discussion space. This, however, may be as much to reassure adults that the book has indeed conveyed its life-affirming core, as to clarify any misunderstandings on the part of children. It would be a good choice of story to talk about the death from old age of a loved one - though not when grief is raw. Our context was Everyman. Erlbruch’s cultural heritage includes Schubert’s Death and the Maiden. What stories do you have in your culture which link Life and Death?