Mrs. Nobody

Written by Y. S. Lee

Illustrated by Marie Lafrance

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-836-7

32 pp.

Ages 3-6

April 2025 

 

Who is Mrs. Nobody? Is she the nobody who draws with markers on the wall? Or the one lies about washing her hands or cutting Alice's hair? Is she the one who took something out of someone's wallet and used the paper for confetti? That's Mrs. Nobody and she's always with Alice, until she isn't. 

From Mrs. Nobody, written by Y. S. Lee, illustrated by Marie Lafrance

Mrs. Nobody is Alice's friend, and she has the best ideas, like climbing to the highest branches and playing puppy. And she sings Alice back to sleep when the child awakens in the night. Alice loves her.

 

But one day, Alice doesn't want to be the puppy anymore; she'd like to be the owner holding the leash. Mrs. Nobody isn't happy, growing larger and more menacing, her hair twirling like a twister and her lovely blue dress becoming a stormy grey before she slams out the house. 

From Mrs. Nobody, written by Y. S. Lee, illustrated by Marie Lafrance

That night, when Alice cannot sleep, she longs to hear Mrs. Nobody's voice sing to her. Instead Alice finds her own small voice and sings herself back to sleep.

 

Mrs. Nobody does return the next day, as pretty as a flower in pink, but she wants to play puppy again with, no surprise, Alice as the puppy. But that brave little voice that helped Alice get to sleep is still there and Alice tells Mrs. Nobody that she is tired of being Puppy. When Mrs. Nobody becomes enraged, howling threats at Alice that the child would never see her again, Alice stays strong and still tells Mrs. Nobody, "No." But, with grace, Alice finds a way to stand up for herself and allow Mrs. Nobody the dignity to give way to Alice's ideas.

From Mrs. Nobody, written by Y. S. Lee, illustrated by Marie Lafrance

Most children have an imaginary friend. Many offer comfort, as does Mrs. Nobody when Alice cannot sleep, and some help children partake in mischief, as does Mrs. Nobody with the antics the two get up. But young Alice is coming into her own and realizing that she is not a plaything to be dominated by Mrs. Nobody. Y. S. Lee brings Alice to this realization subtly and by purpose. Most children learn to stand up for themselves when presented with a bully and, though the outcomes will not necessarily be the same as with an imaginary friend, the act of claiming one's self worth is significant. 

 

Mrs. Nobody may not be the dark and complicated suspense of Y. S. Lee's YA historical mystery series The Agency (I reviewed The Traitor in the Tunnel and Rivals in the City) but there is a depth of discomfort that comes with being bullied and then abandoned before finding one's voice and self-confidence. In both published works, a character does not know the quality of her voice until she needs to express it, and when she does, it is to her benefit to realize her worth. Young Alice is lively and imaginative, but she is not a doormat. Soon enough she realizes she has the stuff in her to sing herself back to sleep and to come up with great ideas for play. Finding that voice is key to her happiness and an ongoing relationship with Mrs. Nobody.

From Mrs. Nobody, written by Y. S. Lee, illustrated by Marie Lafrance

Marie Lafrance gives Mrs. Nobody, the character, the energy and zest for play that Alice has imagined for her. She is colourful and wacky in her attire, which contrasts with Alice who wears plain clothes; that is, until Alice stands up for herself and begins to shine in her own vibrant attire. Like Alice's imaginative relationship with Mrs. Nobody, Marie Lafrance's art, drawn in graphite pencil and coloured in Photoshop, is vivid and elaborate, a mosaic of colours and shapes and lines. From the toys with which they play to the countless animals–perhaps stuffies?–like a fox, an octopus, birds and fish, and winding vines and branches, Marie Lafrance creates spreads that are exuberant and rich.

 

Mrs. Nobody is a lesson is finding one's voice and knowing that expressing it might not always be accepted immediately and not without some strife. Still by accepting and sharing our self-worth with others, we give others the opportunity to shine alongside us. Bravo, Alice. With your voice, you will never be a nobody.

 

The Brass Charm

Written by Monique Polak

Illustrated by Marie Lafrance

North Winds Press (Scholastic Canada)

978-1-4431-5758-2

32 pp.

Ages 5-9

September 2022

 

Everyone has troubles in their lives sometime. Some are horrific and life-changing, some are temporal but seem overwhelming.  Most of us cannot see past our own issues when we're immersed in them. It's that bubble of now. It is probably especially the case for young children many of whom, thankfully, have not had to endure great hardships. So, when the roof of their home is destroyed in a storm, Tali is devastated.

From The Brass Charm by Monique Polak, illus. by Marie Lafrance

As the family heads to stay with Oma while repairs may be undertaken, Tali's mother reminds her that "People survive worse" and to "Think of Oma." Tali knows her grandmother survived World War II but she never talks about it. Still Tali is "too sad to think of anyone" but herself, even when she meets a little neighbour girl who obviously craves some company. That is, until her Oma shows her a tiny brass charm of a monkey man and shares a memory of her own hardship.

From The Brass Charm by Monique Polak, illus. by Marie Lafrance

Telling her story in the third person, Oma tells of a girl forced to leave home and sent to a prison called Terezin. The people kept there were worked tirelessly and fed very little and on the day of her birthday, the child was overcome with how her life had changed for the worse. A woman, hearing her cry, bestows upon her a small brass charm of a monkey man that a stranger gave her when her own life had seemed stormy. Now Oma remembers that lady whose own life had been difficult and could still find "it in her heart to be kind to a stranger."

 

In a message of paying it forward, Monique Polak has Tali sharing the story of the brass charm with Elodie, the little neighbour girl, bolstering them both through their challenges.

From The Brass Charm by Monique Polak, illus. by Marie Lafrance

In a story within a story, Montreal author Monique Polak is actually telling her mother's own history of surviving Terezin as a child and receiving the charm. Because of Terezin's history and its common role as a transit camp for those moved onto other concentration camps, as Monique Polak's Afterword details, the woman who shared that charm was never seen again. Yet the kindness she extended in such trying circumstances, just as Tali's Oma did for her grandchild, speak to a strength of character beyond the typical. It speaks to empathy and compassion and feeling beyond self. And for Tali to listen and learn and then apply that lesson to another makes that small brass charm a greater gift than any gold or diamond trinket could replace.

From The Brass Charm by Monique Polak, illus. by Marie Lafrance

There is a lesson from history here with Tali's Oma remembering Terezin and an experience from World War II. But it is in the context of connecting with others and a grandmother-granddaughter relationship. Not surprising that, even with a story that includes both historical and contemporary scenes, Marie Lafrance whose artwork was rendered with graphite on paper before digitally coloured and texturized via collage, is able to meld the two time periods by focusing on the child in each. It's Tali's experience and then her oma's when she was a child. It is from their perspective: what they see, what they feel, how they respond. So when the two come together in the present, as elderly woman and young child, they are feeling and understanding as the same. And Marie Lafrance gives the two similarities in their physical appearances, with the golden curls of their hair and delicate chins and ears, and makes it clear they are related. But she also gives a softness to a hard story, a story of destruction and hatred, loss and generosity. By keeping the dark grey tones for the camp and the storm and using soft colours of blues and rose and such for everything else, Marie Lafrance emphasizes the tenderness of being there for others, not the damage of the negative.

I can't think of a gentler way to introduce children to the Holocaust and Nazi concentration camps than a reading and discussion of The Brass Charm, though its story is far greater than those historic concepts. Read for a memorial day such as the International Holocaust Remembrance Day (January 27) but also for lessons about empathy and the goodness of paying it forward. The best acts of kindness do not require recompense or recognition. They come from making someone's life a little easier, whether during storms, times of trouble or now.

• • • • • •

Author Monique Polak will be launching her new book on November 20, 2022 at 2 PM at the Gelber Conference Centre, Musée de l'Holocauste Montréal / Montreal Holocaust Museum. Reserve your free tickets at Eventbrite here. 

The Lady with the Books: A Story Inspired by the Remarkable Work of Jella Lepman

Written by Kathy Stinson

Illustrated by Marie Lafrance

Kids Can Press

978-1-5253-0154-4 

32 pp.

Ages 4-7

October 2020

 

"Let us set this

upside-down

world right again

by starting with

the children.

They will show

the grown-ups

the way to go."

– Jella Lepman, 1943

 

So begins Kathy Stinson's homage to Jella Lepman, creator of the International Youth Library and a key player in the founding of IBBY (International Board on Books for Young People). But while The Lady with the Books honours her efforts to bring books to children, Kathy Stinson's newest picture book is much more than a biography. It is a tome of hope that books have the promise to nurture during difficult times.

 

From The Lady with the Books by Kathy Stinson, illus. by Marie Lafrance

In the aftermath of World War II, a little girl, Anneliese, and her younger brother, Peter, wander the streets of Munich looking for food. What they do find, in addition to a bit of orange peel, is a line of people heading into a great hall filled with books. With memories of going to a library with their Papa, now both gone, the children are captivated and time flies until Anneliese and Peter are told by a kind lady that the exhibition was closing.

 

From The Lady with the Books by Kathy Stinson, illus. by Marie Lafrance

 

The next day they return to hear the same lady reading The Story of Ferdinand and are touched by the titular bull's pacifism, especially Peter who is drawn to flowers like Ferdinand. When this lady suggests that Anneliese might enjoy another book about a clever Pippi, Anneliese begins to imagine beyond the desolation of their daily lives, especially the struggle for food. The stories they hear at the exhibit and those that Anneliese weaves at night for her brother become a new source of sustenance, offering hope where there had been little.

Kathy Stinson's stories have always found ways to offer hope and comfort, easily getting into the heads of her characters and recognizing what is important to them. Whether it's colour (Red is Best) or music (The Man with the Violin) for children or a squirrel to The Dog Who Wanted to Fly, Kathy Stinson's picture books help children realize the importance of their dreams. At the onset of The Lady with the Books, Anneliese wonders why the women are clearing away rubble with their bare hands and sweeping the pavement when "Couldn't they see that the street would never be what it had been before the war?" However, by the story's end, she decides "she would join the women with their brooms. She would help clear the street around the damaged library. And maybe someday, the building would again be filled with books." There was hope again.

Marie Lafrance's illustrations, rendered in graphite pencil and coloured digitally, may reflect the devastating impacts of war, from bombed buildings to hunger, but the hope of Kathy Stinson's text and Jella Lepman's work–discussed in notes at the conclusion of the story–is there in the life peppering the scenes. From hardworking women with brooms, and men with wheelbarrows, trees and flowers growing out of rubble, markets of bright food, and books, books and more books, Marie Lafrance offers that buoyancy to the story, letting readers know that there is life and goodness out there.

Jella Lepman extended a hand to children after World War II, recognizing that more than food fed lives. Through book exhibitions, donations and ultimately the establishment of the International Youth Library, the largest international collection of children's books in the world, she nourished young lives, especially those disrupted by war and other disasters, to hope for better and more.

From The Lady with the Books by Kathy Stinson, illus. by Marie Lafrance

The True Tale of a Giantess: The Story of Anna Swan

Written by Anne Renaud

Illustrated by Marie Lafrance

Kids Can Press

978-1-77138-376-9

32 pp.

Ages 4-8

September 2018 

Stories about extraordinary people will always grab young readers' attention. They want to know how they lived, mundane and otherwise, with this need, subconscious or otherwise, to compare to their own lives. What would it have been like? How would they have managed the celebrity or the attention or the tragedies? Biographies give us a glimpse into the lives of others while providing us with opportunities for introspection. And for children, seeing into these lives can spark empathy and compassion and greater understanding about the world at large.  Though Anna Swan's story is undoubtedly greater than can be revealed in a picture book–Anne Renaud does append the story with more details about Anna Swan, including photos and references–The True Tale of a Giantess allows children the opportunity to learn and grow.

From The True Tale of a Giantess by Anne Renaud, illus. by Marie Lafrance

Anna Swan, born in 1846 near present-day Tatamagouche, Nova Scotia, was a large baby at birth (13 lbs.) and, continuing to grow, drew the attention of the local communities, shown off by her parents at country fairs as the Infant Giantess. As a teen, she was invited by P. T. Barnum to participate at his Barnum's American Museum in New York City and also travel. While her childhood may have been filled with Anna trying to fit into clothes, shoes, beds, desks and through doorways, her new life gave her a chance to "dream of a life as big as me." She met Queen Victoria and fell in love and married Martin Van Buren Bates, the Kentucky Mountain Giant, with whom she toured as the Tallest Married Couple on Earth. (Anna was 7'11.5" and Martin was 7'8".)

The couple eventually settled in Ohio where they built a house with furnishings to accommodate them as well as their guests, adopted a monkey named Buttons and farmed. "At last, we had a life where everyone fit."

From The True Tale of a Giantess by Anne Renaud, illus. by Marie Lafrance

Though Anna Swan is seen as a curiosity, Anne Renaud speaks little of her height and more about her experiences growing up and seeing the world before finding a way to make the world fit for her and those she loved. Thus, The True Tale of a Giantess is more about the positive messages of the wonder than the difficulties of the weird. Anna Swan is portrayed as a child of grace who appreciated her home and became a woman of dignity who showed compassion and acceptance.  That gentleness of story is embodied in Marie Lafrance's drawings. From her soft lines of dress and nature to the greens and greys so prevalent in her colours, Marie Lafrance takes the reader to another time when girls wore long dresses and a little girl from Nova Scotia could become a celebrity as the Tallest Girl in the World.

From The True Tale of a Giantess by Anne Renaud, illus. by Marie Lafrance

Oscar Lives Next Door

A story inspired by Oscar Peterson's childhood

by Bonnie Farmer

Illustrated by Marie Lafrance

Owlkids Books

978-1-77147-104-6

Ages 4-8

September 2015

Canadian jazz lovers will all know pianist Oscar Peterson very well.  But with Oscar Lives Next Door, author Bonnie Farmer and illustrator Marie Lafrance will introduce younger readers to the legendary musician and his musical beginnings while providing a glimpse into a less-than-famous life-changing event that sent the young Oscar to the piano.

Told from the perspective of Mildred, the little girl who lives next door to Oscar in the predominantly black community of Little Burgundy in Montreal, Oscar Lives Next Door focuses on the musical family of brothers and sisters of which Oscar is but the trumpet player.  Yes, the trumpet player.  And as much as she is Oscar’s playmate running the streets of Little Burgundy, Mildred sees Oscar as a magician of music.

He blows a few notes and, like magic, a turbaned genie curls out of the trumpet’s mouth and floats above the telephone wires. (pg. 13)

Then Oscar’s red handkerchief, a common accessory of horn players, which was usually flying out from the boy’s pocket, is drawn lying useless on the ground. Oscar is ill with tuberculosis and hospitalized, and the music, the play with Mildred, and even the talking stops for Oscar. It is only after a year’s hospitalization and his return home that Oscar tries to find the magic again,  first taking apart his trumpet and then looking within the family piano.

Oscar sits at the piano.  His fingers pause over the keys for a moment before playing.  When they finally touch the keyboard, it sounds like rolling thunder. (pg. 29)

While Oscar Lives Next Door is a fictionalized story, his love of the trumpet, his life-threatening illness (the same illness from which his brother dies), and his subsequent though temporary lack of speech were all key events in Oscar Peterson’s life, helping to create the pianist he became and for which the world loved him.  Bonnie Farmer gets the right tone of reality and fiction by creating a neighbourhood friend who experiences Oscar’s musicality–sometimes to the chagrin of her hard-working, sleep-deprived father–and is there to offer a child’s perspective on his music and his illness.

Be sure to take note of Marie Lafrance’s touching illustrations which transport the reader to the working-class neighbourhoods of Little Burgundy and adjacent Saint-Henri of the 1930s.  With the easily-identifiable Union Church and the train tracks, smokestacks and cars, trucks and horse-drawn carts, Little Burgundy comes alive and becomes the playground and home of Oscar and Millie and a character in its own.  Marie Lafrance, whose artwork has graced numerous youngCanLit classics (including The Tweedles Go Online and The Tweedles Go Electric reviewed here on CanLit for LittleCanadians) conveys a time and place when children could play safely on the streets, when music streamed the air, and life was full, following the seasons and the workings of fathers.  What a treat it would’ve been to have Oscar live next door.

The Tweedles Go Online

Written by Monica Kulling

Illustrated by Marie Lafrance

Groundwood Books

978-1-55498-353-7

32 pp.

Ages 4-7

For release May 2015

Monica Kulling and Marie Lafrance's endearingly old-fashioned family, the Tweedles, has returned and this time they're looking to go online.  Telephone line, that is.

"I see we are going modern," sighed Papa. "Again."

First they moved from bicycles and horse and carriage to electric car in The Tweedles Go Electric (Groundwood, 2014).  Now Mama, with children Franny and Frankie, is ready to embrace the new technology that has their neighbour Mrs. Hamm raving about staying connected with her sister and friends, and about ordering her groceries online.  Papa still prefers the olds ways of getting about, i.e., walking and horses, and spending time with family playing crokinole.  And the noisy bells, the incessant chatter at all hours, and the time the new contraption takes away from their family time has him quietly resentful, though he says nothing. Papa is too much of a gentleman and wants to keep his family happy.  But when the telephone would surely have been useful in communicating an emergency, it falls short and the Tweedles recognize its limitations, with charming acceptance.

It seems the new developments of the first half of the 20th century produced similar effects to those of our 21st century: suspicion, caution, acceptance, overuse, disappointment, and finally comfort.  And how Monica Kulling is able to pack all that into a mere 32 pages, while still creating an engaging family of individuals—Papa, Mama, Franny and Frankie are completely unique and recognizable—with friends–Gladys Hamm is surely a woman we all know or knew–is astounding to me.  I said it before and I’ll say it again: I love the Tweedles!  They are refreshing, honest, unique and their take on all things new and 20th century is enchanting.

And Marie Lafrance puts colour and form to Monica Kulling’s Tweedles and story that I’m not sure anyone else could do so completely.  From their hair to their clothes, and the manner of their movements or even stances, Marie Lafrance has given life to the Tweedles and established a calming and rich environment–her colour palette is impeccable!– in which they can thrive, nay, progress.

The Tweedles Go Electric

by Monica Kulling

Illustrated by Marie Lafrance

Groundwood Books

978-1-55498-167-0

32 pp.

Ages 5-8

Released March 2014

With Earth Day 2014 soon upon us, and the world seemingly looking towards the future for greener technologies, Monica Kulling shows us that green was in our past and maybe we didn't always recognize it for its worth.  In The Tweedles Go Electric, the reader is taken back to the turn of the century–19th to 20th, that is–when the environment may not have been a focus but some wise people were looking beyond the popular when it came to transportation.

The Tweedles, an endearing family of Papa, Mama, twelve-year-old Franny and eight-year-old Frankie, are considered old-fashioned, even fuddy-duddies, because they still get around by walking or cycling, with an occasional foray into the country by horse and cart.  But everything changes (or does it?) with Papa's announcement that, "We're going modern.  We're buying a car!"

They buy a smart car.  A green car.  An electric car!  The family members' reactions to the new purchase are as varied as could be expected.  Papa is excited, though somewhat intimidated and needs to get used to it.  Mama is thrilled, just like Frankie, always having wanted a car.  Only the cerebral Franny takes it all in stride, less than engaged with their new purchase.  As with anything new and different, there are the critics.  However, when an emergency arises, the smart, green car impresses more than a few as to its indubitable value. 

The versatile Monica Kulling will delight readers with this newest book, just as she has with her illustrated biographies such as In the Bag! and Making Contact!, and her picture books of Mister Dash and Lumpito.  The text is fresh and lively, no matter whether the voice of a Tweedle or a salesperson or neighbour.  I love these Tweedles!  Marie Lafrance embodies her characters with the normalcy of members of a functional family but still with familial foibles and their own personalities. And the setting will easily transport the reader to a different time and capture that atmosphere of invention and growth.  With much kindness and no preaching, the Tweedles take the message of progress and fashion beyond the here and now (or there and then), and into the realm of open possibilities.

There is always a morsel of delightful learning in Monica Kulling's books, as there is in The Tweedles Go Electric. A little research reveals a plethora of electric cars were available in the early 1900's. In fact, in 1900 U.S., an astounding 38% of automobiles were powered by electricity. (1) Even though most of the vehicles were steam- or gasoline-powered at the time, and everyone's love of the automobile seemed to include the noise, consumption and pollution, it's easy to appreciate those who could see outside the box and open themselves to those new, albeit few, options. Definitely how we should always be seeing, wouldn't you say?


(1) Retrieved from http://www.edisontechcenter.org/ElectricCars.html on April 6, 2014.