The Weedflower

Written by Elizabeth Davaze
Illustrated by Marianne Ferrer
Owlkids Books
978-1771475884
32 pp.
Ages 4-8
August 2024

In a busy schoolyard, with children jumping and climbing, sliding and clapping, one child sees a plant with a yellow flower growing in the crack between the cement and rubber turf. Only Sam sees it and watches it and sings to it and admires it.

From The Weedflower, written by Elizabeth Davaze, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

But, as with most living things, the "alien bud" grows. It grows into a tall, bright yellow flower and then it catches the attention of the other children who join Sam to admire the flower. (Or is it a weed?) Not only do they admire it, but they also protect it and nurture it. They stop balls from hitting it and squirrels from nibbling at it. And the flower thrives. "Before long, the entire blossom had changed into one perfect, dreamy fluffball."

From The Weedflower, written by Elizabeth Davaze, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

But when the adults at the school finally notice the "fluffball flower," they do not appreciate it the way that the children do.

    "They did not see the magic."

From The Weedflower, written by Elizabeth Davaze, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

After much tugging by many adults, including the large principal, "the weedflower’s roots broke free, the stem came loose, and all the fluff floated away with all the students’ wishes in the breeze." It is only with time that Sam and the other children will see the weedflower has not gone because that fluff was actually filled with the promise of new life.

From The Weedflower, written by Elizabeth Davaze, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

 Adults may see a plant that is growing where they don't want it whether it be a dandelion in a lawn, or volunteer trees that grow to close to a house's foundation. But children don't see that. Ralph Waldo Emerson, who had much to say about nature, is quoted as saying, "A weed is simply a plant whose virtues we haven't yet discovered” and many children have no problem finding the virtues in the dandelion. They bring home bouquets for their mothers, and blow the dandelion fluff and watch it travel like fairies on wind currents. They delight in their spread on lawns to become fields of green dotted with yellow brightness. (We used to braid the stem and flowers into crowns.) To nurture any plant and have it destroyed for its inconvenience to another would be devastating. Kincardine author Elizabeth Davaze takes the perspective of children seeing the dandelion as a flower, a thing of beauty and wonder, and makes us realize the loss they feel when the weed, according to the adults, is eradicated. It's all about perspective, isn't it? Too bad the adults aren't enlightened enough to realize that the dandelion would not be stopped by pulling one out.

 

Montreal's Marianne Ferrer, whose illustrations I have long admired (e.g., Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built, Racines, and Le Jardin Invisible), knows where to put the emphasis on her illustrations. Green and gold, the dandelion's only colours, along with the brown of the dirt, are the basis of all Marianne Ferrer's artwork in The Weedflower, regardless of whether she's drawing the dandelion or the children. The attention is on the plant, just as the children want it to be. Moreover, her use of watercolour and gouache give The Weedflower its organic texture, prioritizing the natural world. 

 

I know some teachers will use The Weedflower as an introductory story to teach the life cycle of a plant–too many kids don't know that seeds come from flowers–but I think it's a wonderful exploration of perspective and seeing things through a child's eyes to appreciate all living things as extraordinary, even the seemingly lowly dandelion.

Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built

Written by Susan Hughes

Illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

Owlkids Books

978-1-77147-392-7

32 pp.

Ages 4-8

March 2021

Antoni Gaudí was a Catalan architect whose unique style marks a number of buildings in Spain and most notably in Barcelona. Just as alluring is Susan Hughes's fictionalized story, illustrated by the formidable Marianne Ferrer, of the development of Gaudí's idea for the home of the Batlló family, known worldwide as Casa Batlló.

From Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built by Susan Hughes, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

While her family anticipates a move from the country to a city home in Barcelona, young Carmen despairs at leaving the wilds of the countryside and her imaginary salamander, Dragon.

   In the woods, hollows cradled them
close and hills tumbled them about.
   Water sparkled and the light showed
them colors everywhere.
   Trees swayed, gently, fiercely.
   Could Carmen ever feel at home in
the gray, straight, stiff city? Impossible!

But when Señor Gaudí visits, he spends time outside, with Carmen trailing. "We do not create," he said later. "We discover."

From Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built by Susan Hughes, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

Carmen soon realizes that his visits, time outdoors and walks in nature feed his creativity, driving him to incorporate the organic into the structural, even seeing what Carmen sees, including her imaginary friend.

From Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built by Susan Hughes, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

Her own visits to their unfolding city home reveal water lily tiling, curved embracing walls, blues of water, sunbursts and more. After two years of development, and saying goodbye to Dragon (prematurely), the family moves into Casa Batlló, and Carmen discovers that "This house–this city–could be a home for her after all."

From Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built by Susan Hughes, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

Our world is peppered with extraordinary achievements from science to art and the stories of those achievements can be just as extraordinary or not. Susan Hughes could've just told the history of this jewel of architecture but she's a much better writer than that. By creating a back story for the house that Gaudí built which includes Carmen and her salamander, the building is a celebration of the natural world in a man-made structure, and becomes the home in which Carmen could rejoice as she had in the country. It becomes a story of imagination and creativity and creating by imagining. The outdoors becomes the indoors but only through observation, attention to detail and tribute. 

Just as glorious as Casa Batlló are Montreal artist Marianne Ferrer's illustrations. Blending a variety of media, including gouache and watercolour, Marianne Ferrer creates magic both in the outdoors of Carmen's natural world and in the evolving new house. Though her palette is relatively limited, she uses colour to emphasize the resplendent nature of the new house, jewelled as only a "better" version of nature could be. Moreover with characteristic boldness in her curved lines and shapes, Marianne Ferrer applauds what is natural, just as Gaudí did.

From Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built by Susan Hughes, illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

This may not be how Gaudí came to develop Case Batlló–though Carmen Batlló certainly did exist, as Susan Hughes's "Author's Note" tells us–but I hope it is. It reminds us that the two worlds, indoors and out, should not be separate, and that magic happens when the two meet.

111 Trees: How One Village Celebrates the Birth of Every Girl (Citizen Kid)

Written by Rina Singh

Illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

Kids Can Press

978-1-5253-0120-9

36 pp.

Ages 5-8

October 2020

 

In a poignant preface, author Rina Singh introduces an Indian village's ancient custom of celebrating the birth of boys with boisterous noise and sweets, and the birth of girls with silence. 111 Trees is the story of how that tradition was changed.

From 111 Trees: How One Village Celebrates the Birth of Every Girl by Rina Singh, illus. by Marianne Ferrer

As a child growing up in his Indian village, Sundar loved his mother and relished his alone-time with her each day on the long walk to fetch water from the well. In a small mud house with a family of eleven and insufficient food, his mother weeps at night. When his mother dies from a poisonous snake bite, Sundar shares hugs with the trees to remember his mother.

When Sundar grows up and has daughters and a son of his own, he "guides them to embrace all forms of life." So, working in the local marble industry, Sundar tries to encourage the factory owners to replace trees on land devastated by the mining and processing of the marble. When they refuse, he leaves his job.

From 111 Trees: How One Village Celebrates the Birth of Every Girl by Rina Singh, illus. by Marianne Ferrer

But Sundar is determined to make a difference in his community and wins an election to be sarpanch, the village head. A year after, his eldest daughter dies and in his grief he plants some saplings, hopeful that they will grow "into magnificent trees that will live for hundreds of years. And with them will live the memory of his daughter." With that as catalyst, Sundar declares that every girl born into their village would be celebrated with the planting of 111 trees. Of course, the villagers think he is crazy and reject his idea. But Sundar is determined.

With time, he teaches them about treating the boys and girls equally, about the environmental impacts of the marble industry on their land, and how they might make a better world, with water, electricity, education and equality.

From 111 Trees: How One Village Celebrates the Birth of Every Girl by Rina Singh, illus. by Marianne Ferrer

111 Trees is a lovely story about a community that is able to benefit itself by helping others and the environment. With compassion and through education, and by placing trust in Sundar, girls are celebrated with mango, papaya, neem, sheesham and amia trees, which they honour annually with sacred threads to renew their bonds, and now go to school along with the boys. Moreover, there is enough water for everyone and no one goes hungry. Rina Singh not only shares the extraordinary transformation of the village of Piplantri in her expressive text but enlightens young readers in her notes about Sundar's story, about gender inequality and about how the forest was nourished and grew.

From 111 Trees: How One Village Celebrates the Birth of Every Girl by Rina Singh, illus. by Marianne Ferrer

But with Marianne Ferrer's watercolour, gouache and graphite illustrations, readers are taken to a community hurting with poverty, hunger and environmental devastation and able to witness its glorious transformation to one of life and greenery and water in which girls and women share importance for the first time.

 

🌏 🌏 🌏 🌏 🌏 

 

For more social justice books, check out all the Citizen Kid books.

Citizen Kid series

Mel and Mo's Marvelous Balancing Act

Written by Nicola Winstanley

Illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

Annick Press

978-1-77321-324-8

32 pp.

Ages 4-7

October 2019 

Mel and Mo are twins and, as much as they love each other, they like different things. One likes the rain, the other sun. One likes getting up early, the other late. And as they grow older, their differences increase until all they do is disagree. When they choose careers, Mel takes over the family umbrella business and Mo performs on a high-wire with multiple poodles as part of the Sunny Sea-Side Circus.

From Mel and Mo's Marvelous Balancing Act by Nicola Winstanley, illus. by Marianne Ferrer

But, with time, things change. They always do. Mel's umbrellas and Mo's act both fall out of fashion, regardless of their efforts to adapt. It isn't until the twins come together to reinvent themselves and their product or act that they find a way to be successful, still different but now in balance.

From Mel and Mo's Marvelous Balancing Act by Nicola Winstanley, illus. by Marianne Ferrer

Nicola Winstanley, whose picture book How to Give Your Cat a Bath (Tundra, 2018) is currently nominated for a Governor General's Literary Award, always takes a light touch to important stories. Here we have non-binary twins who are the same but very different. Their differences define them. But when their choices become limiting, it is only by finding common ground that the two can continue to let their differences shine. Neither Mel nor Mo is expected to give up on themselves to "fit" into what their sibling or society deems appropriate for twins. Nicola Winstanley gives them the space to grow their creativity for creating a product or an entertainment but also the wisdom to recognize when collaboration would be beneficial.

From Mel and Mo's Marvelous Balancing Act by Nicola Winstanley, illus. by Marianne Ferrer

Similarly Marianne Ferrer balances the similarities between the two siblings with their differences. With one creating colourful umbrellas of wild shapes and the other astounding with high-wire acrobatics, Marianne Ferrer places the emphasis on the twins' differences, though still recognizing their similarities in hair styles and by dressing them similarly when young. I have been a big fan of artist Marianne Ferrer since reviewing Racines (Monsieur Ed, 2016). From that, my first French-language book review, I've been enthralled by her pencil and watercolour illustrations that employ a subtlety of colour and balance the whimsy with the sensible.

Mel and Mo's Marvelous Balancing Act may be about twins who want to be individuals whose differences are accepted as relevant, but it's also about knowing when to bring those differences into proximity for collaborative creativity. It's a fine balance that Mel and Mo are able to find and celebrate, as we all should.

Le Jardin Invisible

Written by Valérie Picard

Illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

Monsieur Ed

978-2-924663-03-5

64 pp.

Ages 4+

August 2017

When her family travels far from the city to the country to attend her grandmother's birthday celebration, Arianne enters a marvelous world of lush vegetation, magnificent creatures and an adventure of epic proportions, like all in Le Jardin Invisible (translation: The Invisible Garden).

As pleased as she is to see her grand-maman, Arianne is the lone child in a house full of guests.  A parent suggests she go play in the garden.  A city child, unaccustomed to making play in the outdoors, Arianne is bored and lays down in the grass. A small pebble (caillou) brings her to see another world in which the pebble is a mountain, locusts are as big as cars, and plants like trees.  She chases after the locusts but loses them and catches a ride on a dandelion seed to continue her quest.  Skipping her pebble into the water, she drops in too, witnessing the wonders of the sea including the evolution of aquatic creatures to land dinosaurs who assist her in capturing a star that she releases into the cosmos.

From Le Jardin Invisible 

by Valérie Picard 

illus. by Marianne Ferrer

Perhaps Le Jardin Invisible is but the imaginative dream of a child bored with adult activity who takes bits and pieces from her surroundings and builds them into a story.  Ah, but what a story!  She sees mountains, and travels on fluffy seeds, races with creatures small and large and reaches into the heavens for a touch of magic.  No wonder when the family is returning to the city late at night, Arianne declares to the sky of stars and ethereal shapes, "À beintôt, les dinosaures!" (translation: See you soon, dinosaurs).

From Le Jardin Invisible 

by Valérie Picard 

illus. by Marianne Ferrer

Surprisingly, in 64 pages, there are few words.  The text is essentially a series of questions and exclamations.  But Valérie Picard's sparse text blossoms into a full story with Marianne Ferrer's illustrations.  Marianne Ferrer's art, first reviewed here from her picture book Racines (Monsieur Ed, 2016), gives an ethereal context to Arianne's journey from city to country to Le Jardin Invisible.  When the insignificant child is delegated to the garden, she becomes part of something larger, much larger than herself but still part of it.  Marianne Ferrer's locusts are majestic in every facet, her plant life varied and sumptuous in tones of blue, green and rose and her underwater scenes are resplendent in shades and hues of blues.  Like Arianne, these worlds are largely ignored until looked at with a closer lens.

From Le Jardin Invisible 

by Valérie Picard

 illus. by Marianne Ferrer

Whether Arianne visited this lavish garden by way of her dreams or simply her imagination is irrelevant.  Le Jardin Invisible is one to be seen and appreciated from any perspective.

n.b. The interpretation of this French-language book is solely my own.  I take full responsibility for any errors in translation and interpretation of words and art, and apologize for any discrepancies from the author/illustrator’s intent.

Racines

Written and illustrated by Marianne Ferrer

Monsieur Ed

978-2-924663-04-2

16 pp.

Ages 4-8

2016

Racines is an seemingly-inconspicuous accordion-style (leporello) picture book that shares both a powerful sentiment about our roots and a story of one girl's family influence. Don't let its small size mask the power of its story.

En racines s’incarne la sérendipité.
(translated: Roots embody destiny.)

Racines (translated to Roots) is a deeply-moving yet simple examination of a girl’s roots and her awareness of what they mean to her.  She recognizes the roles of the key people in her life–her grandmother, mother and grandfather–in shaping her with both the magical and the tragic.  But beyond the simple but profound words, Marianne Ferrer illustrates the intensity of emotion  in her starkly-coloured but complex artwork.  Playing on both the emotions and the words, Marianne Ferrer depicts the girl embedded in the landscape, her hair becoming branching roots that meld into the tassels of the rug from which her grandmother combs out tangles. This is her grandmother who climbed down from the mountains, from her own ancestral roots, to make her way into a new world in which she is transformed by the love of a dark-skinned and moustached man.

From Racines by Marianne Ferrer

It is then the girl's mother's story of life by the sea, of extraordinary stars and animals, and fears from which comfort is given and tragedies endured that become part of the girl’s story.  “Je suis toujours consciente de mes racines” (translated: I am always aware of my roots.)

From Racines by Marianne Ferrer

Marianne Ferrer's artwork is both complex and simple, embedding complicated messages of family and heritage in the soft textures of the characters' landscapes.  It is a shame that my own limitations in understanding French has kept me from promoting the profound artistry of illustrators such as  Marianne Ferrer but I hope that Racines is but the first of more French-language books that I might promote here on CanLit for LittleCanadians.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

n.b. The interpretation of this French-language book is solely my own.  I take full responsibility for any errors in translation and interpretation of words and art, and apologize for any discrepancies from the author/illustrator’s intent.

Leporello format of Racines by Marianne Ferrer