Martin and the River

Written by Jon-Erik Lappano

Illustrated by Josée Bisaillon

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-444-4

36 pp.

Ages 3-6

March 2022

 

As Earth Day nears, we need to consider that the experiences of young people with the natural world will be quite different depending on where they live. But, if Martin and the River shows us anything, it's that it doesn't have to be that way.

From Martin and the River by Jon-Erik Lappano, illus. by Josée Bisaillon

Martin lives in a rural community where the river and its environs are more than just the landscape of his life: they are his companions. He watches the frogs, great blue herons and crayfish. He knows the behaviour of the otters and osprey. Countless hours are spent at the river that runs through the fields behind his house. Then a new job moves the family to the city.

From Martin and the River by Jon-Erik Lappano, illus. by Josée Bisaillon

As Martin prepares to leave the river and its life force, he seeks a plan to help. But it's not until his parents take him for a visit to the city, with its subway, museum, and its own natural area that Martin finds a way to bring the river to the city with him.

From Martin and the River by Jon-Erik Lappano, illus. by Josée Bisaillon

Story from Jon-Erik Lappano? Art by Josée Bisaillon? I was already sold on Martin and the River. I knew it would be impactful and it is because it touches on big ideas of adapting to change and of our relationships with nature. Every child will experience some change in their lives, especially the leaving behind of the familiar and going to the unknown, whether it be home, family or school. How they deal with that change is important in determining how disquieting the transition will or will not be. Martin may be a resilient child but change is still change and leaving behind his beloved river was going to be hard. Thankfully he and his parents knew enough to help make that transition smoother by finding another river for him to embrace.

Beyond the concept of change, Martin and the River is a big story because of the child's relationship with the river and its elements, hence my choice to review this book for our upcoming Earth Day. For Martin, Earth Day is everyday. It's appreciating the natural world and its plants and animals and water. It's acknowledging how nature sustains us, especially spiritually. He was fortunate to be able to spend time communing with the river and experiencing the life within. But these experiences helped him to bridge a difficult transition because he was able to appreciate that another natural environment had much to offer as well, just different. 

And don't Josée Bisaillon's illustrations, blends of coloured pencil, pastels, gouache and digital art, just burst with the life of that river and the scenes of the city? From the lush greenery, golden fields and busy indoor and outdoor city scapes, Josée Bisaillon has taken us into Martin's busy brain, imagining, appreciating and feeling. Everything is big and bold and wild.

Not every child is fortunate to have a river as a friend, but I hope that every child finds their own natural element, as Martin did with his rivers, to underscore their lives and guide them with reflection, resilience and imagination.

Song for the Snow

Written by Jon-Erik Lappano

Illustrated by Byron Eggenschwiler

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-268-6

44 pp.

Ages 3-6

September 2021

 

Here in our northern climate of Canada, we can almost always be assured of snow sometime in the winter season. One year may vary from the next in terms of snow load and snow type–fluffy or wet–but we know that in most places in Canada, snow will come. But what if it didn't?

From Song for the Snow by Jon-Erik Lappano, illus. by Byron Eggenschwiler

Freya loves the snow. She dreams of it and anticipates its return come winter. But it has been two years since the weather has been cold enough for the snow to come to her town and her memories of it are beginning to fade. 

Maybe the snow is lost, she thought.

At the market, where everyone is dressed in light jackets and sweaters and definitely no snow boots, Freya hears a tune that draws her to a trinket table with a woman holding a beautiful snow globe. She tells Freya that the song is very old and special, once sung every winter to call the snow home. Then she gifts Freya with the snow globe.

From Song for the Snow by Jon-Erik Lappano, illus. by Byron Eggenschwiler

At home, her mother recalls the tune and sings her the words her grandmother once sang.

"Come home snow," she sang.

"Fall from high...

cover the trees and fill the sky..."

From Song for the Snow by Jon-Erik Lappano, illus. by Byron Eggenschwiler

For days, Freya sings for the snow to come but there is still no snow. She fears it may be too far away or perhaps she isn't singing it right. Then she wonders if more voices are needed and she enlists the help of her classmates to spread the song.

As they sang, distant memories of cozy, snow-filled nights returned to their parents.

And those parents hum the tune as they go about their days, spreading the song into homes and hearts. What happens next is the stuff of legends.

Young readers may anticipate the ending for Song for the Snow but it is no less gratifying, especially for young Freya whose calling it was to bring the snow home. Her connection with snow drew her to the globe and sharing the song, all of which resulted–or did it?–in the return of the snow. Whether it is to be believed by readers or not, it happened, and Jon-Erik Lappano's telling of this fable makes it real. It tells children that it's possible to dream and to wish for things hard enough to make them come true. (I wouldn't be surprised if there are little ones out there who will want to know the tune so they can sing it when they too want the snow to return.) Jon-Erik Lappano tells the story like a recount, a tale passed down, like the song, through generations to remind young readers that they have the capacity to change things. In our tenuous environmental circumstances, Song for the Snow is a lovely push for children to do what they can to make the world the one they want. And it's told so tenderly, never harsh or in your face. Like a blanket of snow, it coats its message of caring action with patience and perseverance and connection.

The artwork by Byron Eggenschwiler gives Song for the Snow a Scandinavian feel from Freya's knitted sweater to the cable-knit feathers of herself as a dream bird. In fact, the art is very reminiscent of Jan Brett's winter tales, perfect for important messages and a cold landscape. Byron Eggenschwiler's digital illustrations are subdued and yet robust in their somberness, infused with a darkness of wishes unfulfilled with only flakes of lightness for the music and snow.

Whether you already have snow on the ground or are only wishing for it, Song for the Snow will give hope that wishing with action can make dreams come true. Freya proved it.

Tokyo Digs a Garden

by Jon-Erik Lappano

Illustrated by Kellen Hatanaka

Groundwood Books

978-1-55498-798-6

32 pp.

Ages 3-7

March 2016

Imagine a small house that was once part of a countryside lush with forests and meadows and wildlife now dwarfed by skyscrapers and hidden among the overdeveloped city buildings and billboards.  This is the house of Tokyo and his parents and his grandfather, the original owner of the country home, and Kevin the cat.

When an elderly woman on a bicycle hands Tokyo three seeds, telling him “…they will grow into whatever you wish”, the boy removes a brick from their yard and plants them in the soil beneath. The next day, there are three small wildflowers. After breakfast, there is moss covering the bricks.  By dinner, there are trees and shrubs and more wildflowers. And by the next day, “the garden had grown up and over the buldings, across the streets, dwon the road, over the cars and into the expressway.” With time, the city is made over into a wild entity of rivers and forests and wildlife and the people adapt to these changes because “Gardens have to grow somewhere, after all.”

From Tokyo Digs a Garden
by Jon-Erik Lappano, illus. by Kellen Hatanaka

The message is clear.  Mother Nature will not be stopped and, no matter how much humans develop the land into unrecognizable entities, it will grow and become what it should.  Tokyo and his grandfather’s honest acceptance of this phenomenon is both educational and calming.  Jon-Erik Lappano gets the tone just right, never preachy, always intuitive, and even playful. (Kevin’s love of ice cream is quite clear.)  And Kellen Hatanaka, whose artwork first decorated Work: An Occupational ABC (Groundwood, 2014), dignifies that tone with his astute and beautiful illustrations.  Think of a Henri Rousseau jungle but with an art deco flair and you’ll get an idea of the lushness of Kellen Hatanaka’s garden in Tokyo Digs a Garden.  More brilliant in colour and stronger in line, the artwork carries the story from message to revelation.

Tokyo Digs a Garden plants the seeds for discussion of nature and land development and sows the dramatic beauty of transformation.

From Tokyo Digs a Garden by
Jon-Erik Lappano, illus. by Kellen Hatanaka