Early this morning a band of thunderstorms raced along the western side of the tip of the Mitt. The daily early morning walk with my canine companion was shorter than usual as thunder rumbled and lightning split the eerie darkening sky. A trip to the shore revealed layers of black and gray hovering over Lake Michigan as wind started to whip tree branches.
Sometimes storms are predicted, and we can prepare. Other times, they appear as if conjured by the hand of an unseen sorcerer. Truthfully, even with science and preparations, we are at their mercy. During days of confinement, The Longest Storm (mineditionUS, August 31, 2021) written and illustrated by Dan Yaccarino views the unexpected through family dynamics. Like life, it is both heartbreaking and heartwarming.
A storm came to our town.
It was unlike any storm
we'd ever seen.
Going outside was not an option. We were stuck inside for a-yet-to-be-determined amount of time. All those tasks we never had time to do; they disappeared from our minds.
We were not used to being together, hour after hour, day after day. As a family, we forgot how to talk with each other. We forgot how to relate to each other. It was weird. It became terrible. Tempers flared.
Being alone was the chosen method of avoiding hard truths, until one horrible night the storm rocked the house's and our family's foundations. (Sometimes in the very worst possible situation, a shift sends out a single shaft of light. It helps to guide us to where we need to be.)
In the light of a new day, much was the same, except for us. The weirdness wanned. In a good way, our attitudes toward each other were transformed. Over time, the clouds vanished, the sun shone, and we left the house to begin fresh.
With each meticulously created sentence, Dan Yaccarino writes a story with multiple meanings. It is indeed about a storm, a meteorological event, but a storm by its very definition is applicable in many situations. Each thought revealed in the narrative is universally understood. We have experienced surprise, uncertainty, the disconnections, the frustrations, and the sudden knowledge of needing to rely on each other.
The declarations are simple, but profound. They disclose what makes humans united, more alike than different. Here are two sentences placed at particular points in the story.
There was nothing to do,
and too much time to do it.
Is it possible for a family to run out of nice things to say?
The open and matching dust jacket and book case are a preview of circumstances to come. On the back, left side, the family canine is outside their home, eyeing the black cloud moving across a blue sky. Three rows of squares, etched in black, represent a window in the red brick home. The ISBN is cleverly placed within three squares on the bottom row.
On the right side, the front, the family, arm in arm, watch the approaching storm. They are unaware of what awaits them. The dog looking directly at the reader asks us to join the family and their story. On both the jacket and case, the family and text are varnished. The color palette is suggestive of shifts.
On the opening endpapers, in black, red, and cream clouds extend from the upper, right-hand corner to the lower, left-hand corner. Wind and leaves swirl. The closing endpapers present another scenario, after the storm has passed.
Across the verso and title pages, a double-page picture depicts the beginning of the storm. Black and gray clouds roll in from left to right, blocking out the blue of the sky. Wind blows autumn leaves past the house. Two of the children are still outside, one in a tire swing and the other playing with their dog. Their father watches from inside the house.
Each image, rendered in Dan Yaccarino's signature style, mirrors the pacing and mood of the story. Picture sizes are double-page visuals, edge to edge, groups of smaller illustrations to place emphasis on the narrative, and single-page pictures, edge to edge. Backgrounds reflect the emotional state of the family and accentuate pictorial portraits of the text. Time is most notably depicted in the state of the father's beard. Several page turns, five, are striking in their representation of dramtic moments. Of the five, only two have words.
One of my many favorite illustrations is a double-page, wordless picture. It is after the big kaboom made during the storm. The colors are dark purple, sky blue, black and a spot of golden yellow. Two perspectives are shown in this single image. To the left of the gutter, we see the oldest child standing outside their father's open bedroom door in the hallway. We see feet, legs, and the lower body. They are close to us. Inside the bedroom are the father, the two smaller children nestled on either side of him, and the family dog, now on the dad's bed. A candle glows on the nightstand. The two smaller children and the father look expectantly at the older child. Rain falls in sheets outside the rows of panes in the bedroom window.
This book, The Longest Storm written and illustrated by Dan Yaccarino, falls with excellence in the timeless and timely class of titles. It rings out truth, solidly and soothingly. It is one to read often and to share widely. I highly recommend it for your personal and professional collections. It will make a superb gift.
To learn more about Dan Yaccarino and his other work, please follow the link attached to his name to access his website. Dan Yaccarino has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube. At the publisher's website you can view the opening endpapers. Dan Yaccarino wrote a guest post at the Nerdy Book Club, Weathering The Storm Together. Here is a link to some activity pages. Dan Yaccarino is interviewed at Max's Boat about this book.
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