I was SO MAD when I finished reading this book. I was in tears and I felt like I'd been tricked. When I read the books for these blogs, I completely ignore the blurbs or any other information on the book flaps because sometimes I think they give too much information and the story is spoiled. In the case of Flamingo Dream by Donna Jo Napoli, I really wish I had. I picked up Flamingo Dreams because the illustrations (Cathie Felstead) looked awesome. A mixture of child-like drawings/collages with some watercolor and real objects mixed in. I could see any kid liking them. And the story starts off so cute: the narrator goes on a trip to Florida with their dad. It's where he grew up. It's there that they see flamingos on the racetrack. But they go to a lot of other places too. They even get ridiculous flamingo-print Hawaiian shirts. It wasn't until, like, 10 or 11 pages in that I realized something was wrong. The narrator comes home from school and listens to the dad talk about all the things he saw out the window while he spent the day on the couch. And then he falls asleep and the mother talks to the narrator about the dad's cancer and how he's "changing inside, just like the leaves were changing color" and that "he would die, just like the leaves would fall." And the little narrator says "sometimes we would cry together, all three of us." That's about the time I lost it. And so over the next few pages, nature takes it's course and the dad dies. At the funeral service, under his orders, his friends each bring a box with a pink lawn flamingo in it for the narrator. Eventually, the narrator gets angry and kicks them all over in the yard. But then they get the idea to scatter daddy's ashes at the feet of the flamingos. And then they cry. This all occurs about a month before the actual story of the book takes place. It turns out that the dad loved his camera and every year for the narrator's birthday, he would pick some pictures from the year and made a "Year Book" complete with stories for the pictures. It's at this point that it becomes clear the entire book is the year book the narrator's been working on for their first birthday without their dad. They don't have photographs but they've been collecting things. And suddenly, you can go back and look at all the pictures and see boarding passes, and ticket stubs, and flamingo feathers, and peanuts, and sea shells, even a hospital bracelet. Pretty much a trinket from every experience with the dad. And it becomes clear why everything looks like a kid drew it. Man, was I a mess by the end of this book. There was just something so honest about it and for a few minutes I couldn't figure out why. And then I realized it was the distinct lack of metaphors. Of those ridiculous, contrived, and often inappropriate metaphors authors writing about difficult subjects often use. It's the reason I couldn't enjoy that At Daddy's on Saturdays book. I just couldn't imagine a kid understanding or gelling with some of the things these authors were saying. It seemed that Donna Jo Napoli had gone out of her way to give just the facts so to speak. And one of my roommates (who I forced to read the book after me) pointed out that in the flaps, Napoli pretty much says just that: that, after losing his father (and her brother), her nephew was unsatisfied with the metaphor books or books that just kind of hinted at the pain. So she took it upon herself to write one she thought was better. And I really think it is too. It's become one of my favorite children's books to date.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
daddy's sleeping peacefully. when he wakes up, he won't even remember he died.
I was SO MAD when I finished reading this book. I was in tears and I felt like I'd been tricked. When I read the books for these blogs, I completely ignore the blurbs or any other information on the book flaps because sometimes I think they give too much information and the story is spoiled. In the case of Flamingo Dream by Donna Jo Napoli, I really wish I had. I picked up Flamingo Dreams because the illustrations (Cathie Felstead) looked awesome. A mixture of child-like drawings/collages with some watercolor and real objects mixed in. I could see any kid liking them. And the story starts off so cute: the narrator goes on a trip to Florida with their dad. It's where he grew up. It's there that they see flamingos on the racetrack. But they go to a lot of other places too. They even get ridiculous flamingo-print Hawaiian shirts. It wasn't until, like, 10 or 11 pages in that I realized something was wrong. The narrator comes home from school and listens to the dad talk about all the things he saw out the window while he spent the day on the couch. And then he falls asleep and the mother talks to the narrator about the dad's cancer and how he's "changing inside, just like the leaves were changing color" and that "he would die, just like the leaves would fall." And the little narrator says "sometimes we would cry together, all three of us." That's about the time I lost it. And so over the next few pages, nature takes it's course and the dad dies. At the funeral service, under his orders, his friends each bring a box with a pink lawn flamingo in it for the narrator. Eventually, the narrator gets angry and kicks them all over in the yard. But then they get the idea to scatter daddy's ashes at the feet of the flamingos. And then they cry. This all occurs about a month before the actual story of the book takes place. It turns out that the dad loved his camera and every year for the narrator's birthday, he would pick some pictures from the year and made a "Year Book" complete with stories for the pictures. It's at this point that it becomes clear the entire book is the year book the narrator's been working on for their first birthday without their dad. They don't have photographs but they've been collecting things. And suddenly, you can go back and look at all the pictures and see boarding passes, and ticket stubs, and flamingo feathers, and peanuts, and sea shells, even a hospital bracelet. Pretty much a trinket from every experience with the dad. And it becomes clear why everything looks like a kid drew it. Man, was I a mess by the end of this book. There was just something so honest about it and for a few minutes I couldn't figure out why. And then I realized it was the distinct lack of metaphors. Of those ridiculous, contrived, and often inappropriate metaphors authors writing about difficult subjects often use. It's the reason I couldn't enjoy that At Daddy's on Saturdays book. I just couldn't imagine a kid understanding or gelling with some of the things these authors were saying. It seemed that Donna Jo Napoli had gone out of her way to give just the facts so to speak. And one of my roommates (who I forced to read the book after me) pointed out that in the flaps, Napoli pretty much says just that: that, after losing his father (and her brother), her nephew was unsatisfied with the metaphor books or books that just kind of hinted at the pain. So she took it upon herself to write one she thought was better. And I really think it is too. It's become one of my favorite children's books to date.
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Wow--I'm going to find it ASAP. Your passion about this book really came through in the post and it makes me want to read it for myself. I agree with your comments that we too often oversimplify life experiences for kids (thinking that that will "make it all better") while ignoring the fact that ALL of us are constantly working through a variety of stuff in our lives. Thanks for the book rec!
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