Out Of Darkness

In the still of early morning or late-night hours, darkness yields new vistas.  One of the most breathtaking of these, depending on the phase of the moon, is when we lift our eyes to the sky.  The expanse of stars in any season is breathtaking.  To witness this and to be a part of this is both humbling and wondrous.

It's almost incomprehensible to realize the ages of stars are measured in billions of years.  The Stuff of Stars (Candlewick Press, September 4, 2018) written by Marion Dane Bauer with illustrations by Ekua Holmes is a stunning depiction in lyrical language and mesmerizing images of life and its beginnings.  It is a journey and an awakening.

In the dark,
in the dark,
in the deep, deep dark,
a speck floated,
invisible as thought,
weighty as God.

There was nothing as we know it, absolutely nothing.  In this darkness there was only this speck.  It was waiting.

BANG!

In the tiniest and quickest moment in time, time began.  Everything started and moved outward from the speck.  There were now stars, more than can be measured but there were no planets.  If there were no planets, there was no Earth.  All the things we know were yet to be.

These stars burned long and hot.  This time and this heat made some of those stars burst releasing dust; stardust.  This dust gathered and formed planets; planets like Earth circling around a star, our Sun.  Fortunate Earth was the correct distance from its star to be neither too hot nor too cold but shifting from a tolerable hot and cold as it moved.

The stardust continued its role of gathering and forming those things on Earth of which we are familiar.  There were dinosaurs.  Generations of humans came and went until . . .there is another speck

invisible as dreams,
special as Love.

As the previous speck waited, so too, did this one.  It became YOU.


Regardless of where your beliefs are on the spectrum for the origin of life, the words of Marion Dane Bauer are deeply moving.  She conveys the enormity of the beginning of the universe and the formation of each element within it.  In her words there is a fragility but also great power.  As her phrases connect one to the other, she shows us how we are all tied to the past and to the future.  Here is another passage.

And throughout the cosmos
stars caught fire.
Trillions of stars, 
but still no planets
to attend those stars.
And if no planets,

then no oceans,

no mountains,

no hippopotami.


Extending from the edge on the left, across the spine and to the edge on the right of the opened dust jacket, the swirl of deep, rich shades of blue, purple and red are pulsing with life and brimming with stars.  The two seated figures are you and me.  They are everyone.  The perspective of this image is two-fold; the beings are elements in the universe but also observing it.  The title text is silver foil.  Words amid the upper portion on the back read:

The miracle of every child
is also the miracle of our planet:
each made from stardust.

On the book case a deep midnight blue covers both the left and the right.  Marbleized hues of purple curve and blend over the opening and closing endpapers.  The verso and title pages are a reverse, black text on purple and purple text on black leading us to the time before time.

Each double-and single-page is rendered with

hand-marbled paper and collage and assembled digitally.

On the larger visuals the text is placed in an area appearing to be designed specifically for it.  For other illustrations a column is created to the left or the right for the text.  Ekua Holmes uses a full color palette reflective of the text.  With the word 

BANG!

she has shades of golden yellow radiating from a center of blues and oranges looking like fire.  This moves to peach and orange and turquoise with black for the next illustration.  When the stars burst pinwheels spread from centers in yellow, orange and red with dots of yellow, orange and turquoise.  In the background we catch glimpses of the dust jacket colors.  Every image is vibrant and lively.

One of my many favorite illustrations is for text mentioning bluebirds, butterflies, snails and giraffes.  The hues used are vivid and lavish; black, shades of gray, red, and blue.  The placement of the butterflies and the bluebird cause them to be easily seen but I guarantee when you see the giraffe arching from right to left across the gutter, you will gasp.  It is then the snail comes into view, too.


This presentation, The Stuff of Stars written by Marion Dane Bauer with illustrations by Ekua Holmes, is remarkable.  It is a beautiful symphony of words and art.  Surely it will promote discussions and extensive thinking and research.  You will want to have a copy in your professional and personal collections.

To discover more about Marion Dane Bauer and Ekua Holmes please visit their respective websites by following the links attached to their names.  Marion Dane Bauer has many resources for this title including two Pinterest boards.  Ekua Holmes has an array of artwork at her site.  Both Marion and Ekua maintain accounts on Twitter.  You can find Ekua on Instagram.  At Penguin Random House and Candlewick Press you can view interior images.  Author, reviewer and blogger Julie Danielson speaks about this title and posts one of my favorite illustrations at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.  The cover is revealed at A Fuse #8 Production by Elizabeth Bird, Collection Development Manager of the Evanston Public Library system.

Lost, But Not Forever

Like iron filings to a magnet, I am drawn to books about dogs, books with dogs as the sole characters, books about people and their dogs.  Having one who chose me twelve years ago is definitely part of the reason but my students, some of my most reluctant readers, are drawn to those stories.  Those are the volumes, fiction and nonfiction, constantly moving in and out of the library all year long.

My students' joy in the day they are picking out a new puppy or open grief in telling me a beloved friend has died, has been a frequent occurrence during my career. Children and dogs have their own special language, a tie, hard for some adults to understand.  Author, Marion Dane Bauer, has crafted a memorable tale of how wanting, different kinds of loneliness, bring characters together in Little Dog, Lost (Atheneum Books for Young Readers).

Through the voice of a narrator, character dialogue and thoughts,  over the course of two days, the strings attached to lives are caught and woven together.  Buddy,

Little black dog with brown paws
and a brown mask
and a sweet ruffle of brown fur on her bum
just beneath her black whip of a tail.
Satiny coat.
Ears like airplane wings
that drop
just at the tips.

has lost her boy.  The family has moved to an apartment in the city leaving him with a friend in another town, a woman in the town of Erthly, a woman not quite sure what to do with this newest member of her household.

Mark lives with his single mom, the mayor of Erthly, yearning for...yes, you guessed it, a dog.  But his mother has been very firm in her denial of this request despite his every attempt to persuade her.  All his friends have dogs or as in the case of Trent, a cat named Fido, who thinks he's a dog.

In the center of Erthly is a large oak tree right in front of an equally stately mansion, complete with a high iron fence, expansive yard, double entry doors, framed by pillars, with lion's-head knockers and a tall tower with a pointy peak.  Living a singular existence in this home is quiet, no one has ever heard him utter a word, shy, elderly Charles Larue.  Speculations run, as varied as the thinkers themselves, among the children and adults as to what happened to the lady for whom he cared for decades.

Miserable, sick with an emptiness, Buddy digs his way to freedom.  But where can he go, where is his boy?  Mark solves his need for a dog by arranging a rally for a dog park in town at the city council meeting.

From his tower Charles Larue sees the little lost dog looking.  He sees the children planning and gathering.  And Larue feels a stirring for all his missed opportunities.

Mother Nature steps in to escalate events as does the calculating claws of Fido.  It's a rush, a race, to save what needs saving.  Untold stories of truth surface, as they are prone to do, when love steps in.

Infinite care has been given in the telling of this tale as Marion Dane Bauer wefts her words deftly through verse.  Her skill in this form of writing is intricately detailed; settings vividly pictured in your mind and characters so real you can feel them standing next to you.  Bauer tells a compelling story to be sure, but her gift is making you a part of the story, too.

Here are some passages from Little Dog, Lost, examples of Marion Dane Bauer's way with language.

The night thrummed
with crickets,
wood frogs,
cicadas.
The popular tree
in the front yard
rustled its usual
Hush...shush...shhhh!

And Mark,
feeling the coolness,
the dampness
of the nose
and the snuffle of warm breath
against his palm,
fell instantly,
deeply,
helplessly
in love.

The summer evening
lay across Erthly
like a wool blanket,
heavy and smothering,
without a breath of breeze.
Thunder stammered in the distance.

Soft, black and white, illustrations by Jennifer A. Bell compliment the telling in the best possible way; evoking joy, sadness, desperation, waiting and love.  Chapter notations are placed inside a paw print, a small glimpse of a scene tucked into a corner, a larger view bleeding across the center or wordless two page spreads, are a further invitation to participate.  One of my favorites is the final page, a joyful moment commemorated.


Readers will be enveloped by the strength of emotion in this book, Little Dog, Lost by Marion Dane Bauer.  Having read it twice now (but by no means the last time I will) I can give it a high recommendation for dog lovers but truly to anyone who seeks a book about how stories, ours and others, shape who we are.  Consider it a guaranteed winner as a read aloud.

Be sure to follow the link to Marion Dane Bauer's website embedded in her name above.  She includes a reader's theater and discussion guide as companions to this title.  And right now...I'm going to reach down and stroke the fur of the body lying across my feet who's running in her dreams as she no longer can in real life.