The Lion and the Bird (Enchanted Lion, 2014)
by Marianne Dubuc
A lion and a bird are not the most obvious of friends. One big, shaggy, and growly, and one small, sleek, and flit-about-y.
But not these two.
This lion has rosy cheeks which are insta-endearing and wanders out to his work. Just a lion, working in the garden. That’s when he spots an injured bird.
Same insta-endearing rosy cheeks.
The lion springs to action. The bird smiles, but the flock has flown away.
Marianne Dubuc varies the art on the page. Some spot illustrations, some full-bleed. This paces the small, quiet action of the story – the spots create sequential scenes on one spread, moving us forward in time, a full-bleed image slows us down into one moment on the same physical space.
The two spend the winter together, ice-fishing and fire-watching. It’s cold. But:
Winter doesn’t feel all that cold with a friend.
No more spots, no more full-bleed. Only white space.
We slow way down. We worry about what’s to come.
But Spring has to come. The flock has to return.
The page turn here is filled with emotion. We see the lion saying a bittersweet goodbye. (How he’s holding his hat in honor is just the most beautiful thing.)
And then, as if we are the flock, he gets smaller. Farther away. Lots of white space.
Time goes on. (Sometimes the seasons are like that.)
But then.
A flock of birds. A single note in the white space.
Winter returns, and so does his friend.
In this book, white space moves the story and white space is the story. The moments that seem the most like nothing might actually be the moments that are the most something.
That bird’s solitary trill piercing the air reminds me a bit of this art installation. It’s a combination of movement, music, and art that leaves room for the story in the space left behind. This reminds me of the lion, waiting and listening and hoping.
PS: I’m heading to Las Vegas this weekend for ALA. Will you be there? Would love to say hello!
Review copy provided by the publisher. All thoughts my own.
Tagged:
enchanted lion,
full-bleed color,
marianne dubuc,
pacing,
page turn,
picture book,
spot color,
the lion and the bird,
white space 
Two books and a game to turn your child into a storyteller -- maybe even get him to write down a story.
The Exquisite Corpse Adventure: A Progressive Story Game Played by 20 Celebrated Authors and Illustrators,
Candlewick, $17.99. Get ready to laugh yourself silly, and not just at this story but at all the famous writers who've wriggled in their seats and had a good-natured chuckle while writing it. In this waggish collaboration by 20 top talents in children's books, author Jon Scieszka sets up a wild scenario for a story, then asks fellow authors and illustrators to run with it. With each chapter, a new author-illustrator team picks up the story from where another team left it. As the teams wrangle with themes that are almost too silly to put together, they seem to be trying to get in a doozy of a cliff-hanger before their chapter ends. It's as if one team is teasing the next, "
Now what are you going to do?" Scieszka begins the story with a ticking time bomb (literally), a cliff-hanger that calls for a quick response, not only from the story's heroes but the authors who have to write the heroes out of immediate danger. Here's where the book starts: Two twins have just run away from the circus after receiving a mysterious birthday card from their parents, whom they thought were dead. In the letter, the parents urge twins Nancy and Joe, both 11, to run out into the world and look for clues that will lead them to parts of a top-secret robot, known as "The Exquisite Corpse." But as they get started, the twins find themselves on a train set to explode if it crosses a bridge just up ahead. Thanks to Katherine Patterson they do escape alive, only to learn in Kate DiCamillo's chapter that a clown from their circus set them up and he's juggling another bomb. By the time Susan Cooper takes over the story, the twins are being chased by a dancing pig. Could the circus they've run away from be trying to hunt them down? Originally published on the READ.gov LIbrary of Congress website, this hilarious experiment might just inspire your kids to start a progressive story of their own.
Tales from the Haunted House (Storyworld, Create a Story Kit), by John & Caitlin Matthews,
Templar Books, $9.99, 2011. With Halloween creeping closer, here's a terrific way to tap into your children's imagination: a kit for making up ghoulish stories.
Tale from the Haunted House is the fifth entry in a clever game series that gets kids to tell stories without any pressure to do so. Inside each kit is a deck of 28 cards, each with a mood-setting scene on one side and questions about possible plots on
This lion has rosy cheeks which are insta-endearing and wanders out to his work. Just a lion, working in the garden. That’s when he spots an injured bird.
Same insta-endearing rosy cheeks.
Marianne Dubuc varies the art on the page. Some spot illustrations, some full-bleed. This paces the small, quiet action of the story – the spots create sequential scenes on one spread, moving us forward in time, a full-bleed image slows us down into one moment on the same physical space.
The two spend the winter together, ice-fishing and fire-watching. It’s cold. But:
And then, as if we are the flock, he gets smaller. Farther away. Lots of white space.
Time goes on. (Sometimes the seasons are like that.)
A flock of birds. A single note in the white space.
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