by Jo Empson (Child’s Play, 2012)
Here’s a book that’s deceptively simple in text, in color, in motion.
An average rabbit, doing average rabbity things. White space, dark spot illustrations. Calm and steady.
But then. The page turn is the miraculous pacing tool for the picture book, and this one is a masterpiece. Swiftly, from the expected to the unexpected, from straightforward rabbityness to the unusual.
And the beautiful. And the wild and the wonderful.
Jo Empson’s art is a storyteller to follow. It unfolds visually, deftly, magically.
Desperately.
Because one day, Rabbit is gone. So is the color and the movement and the life.
“All that Rabbit had left was a hole.”
But, much like the art, Rabbit was a storyteller to follow.
And the color returns.
It’s a story about making a mark that leaves a legacy. It’s about telling a story and remembering one. It’s for anyone who is daring enough to leave drips of unrabbityness, and anyone brave enough to chase them.
