Forever Truffle

Three Stories by Fanny Britt

Illustrated by Isabelle Arsenault

Translated by Susan Ouriou

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-070-5

114 pp.

Ages 7-10

August 2022

 

In three stories, Fanny Britt introduces young readers to Truffle, a young red-haired wonder who adores music, falls in love and learns about figures of speech, and contemplates life in a very big and beautiful way. He is Forever Truffle, and occasionally Truffleletto.

From Forever Truffle by Fanny Britt, illus. by Isabelle Arsenault

In the first story, Truffle The Rock Star, Truffle explores his love of music. From childhood and listening to everything from Verdi to Joan Jett, the Beatles and Led Zeppelin, it's obvious that Truffle is a lover of music, especially rock, and he's thrilled when he gets a biker jacket for a birthday gift. Determined to be a rocker, Truffle gets together with best friends Flo and Riad to conceptualize their own rock band.

From Forever Truffle by Fanny Britt, illus. by Isabelle Arsenault

In the second story, Truffle Loves Nina, Truffle has fallen for little Nina. However, ever since he's asked her to be his girlfriend, he can't speak to her. When his father suggests he let his heart do the talking, Truffle tries to understand that figure of speech and many others so that he might express his love to Nina. 

From Forever Truffle by Fanny Britt, illus. by Isabelle Arsenault

The final story, Truffle Tackles Existence, has Truffle asking big questions when attending the funeral of his great-grandma Sybile. The visit brings up Truffle's thoughts on his parents' divorce, including his hope for reconciliation; on his love of dogs and missing their pup Rocket; and about growing old and dying. He's thoughtful and observant, kind and forever Truffle. 

Montreal's Fanny Britt does not do frivolous or cute but she does do real and that's what and who Truffle is. He's a real child who dreams and wishes and imagines, as well as loves, hopes and reflects. And he's got lots to think about, from his divorced parents, to his older brother, his loves and his good friends, to his aspirations and his life. His naiveté is authentic, not silly, and allows his inquisitive nature to learn lessons that all children will learn some time in their lives, some earlier, some later. 

Artist Isabelle Arsenault complements Fanny Britt's text, so expertly translated by Calgary's Susan Ouriou, with illustrations that emulate that sensibility of the story.  The artwork, rendered in pencil, ink and collage, are low key, tempered in doleful tones with splashes of yellow and orange and turquoise. After all, life is not all bright colours, bold in spirit and brash in tones. It's often just a plodding along of trying to understand and manage and find some brightness whenever and wherever possible. 

From Forever Truffle by Fanny Britt, illus. by Isabelle Arsenault

The collaboration between Fanny Britt and Isabelle Arsenault, as in Louis Undercover and Jane, the Fox and Me, has always been a powerful but subtle one of compelling stories of authenticity, told in words and pictures that depict children as they live. The complexity of their lives and their understandings are evident though not belaboured. Forever Truffle will forever be such a story.

Ophelia

Written by Charlotte Gingras

Illustrated by Daniel Sylvestre

Translated by Christelle Morelli and Susan Ouriou

Groundwood Books

264 pp.

Ages 14+

March 2018

Ophelia is what she calls herself, though her peers at high school have affixed the label of "rag girl" on her.  But Ophelia, like Shakespeare's tragic character, is much more than she appears.  She is a complex teen, overridden with fears and anger and anxiety and isolation that goes far beyond the teen angst label many use to underplay overwhelming personal issues.  

Ophelia's story, past and present, is told in letters to an author, Jeanne D'Amour, who visited Ophelia's school and gifted the teen with an ink-blue notebook. The unsent letters reveal Ophelia's crushing worries of abandoned children; of being seen as ugly; of her struggles at school; of being alone or of finding love; of a mother who had been undeclared unfit once, forcing Ophelia into foster care, and could be again; of never knowing her father; and of her sexuality, especially as she harbours trauma from an incident of childhood sexual abuse.  

I don't love anyone for real, Jeanne.  If I dive down, down to my very depths, all I find is dark and hard.  Nothing alive. (pg. 122)

But when Ophelia, a girl who goes out at night and tags walls with oil-pastel broken hearts, discovers an abandoned building with walls on which she might express herself artistically, everything changes.  She soon learns that her workshop had previously been discovered by another marginalized teen, a new student and fat young man who decides to call himself Ulysses.  The two work out a schedule so that they do not have to interact, and Ophelia can continue to work on her art–first an "upside-down girl" as a depiction of her namesake, then an empowered "right-side-up girl" and more–while Ulysses endeavours to dismantle an old van he has named Caboose, hopeful of setting it to rights so he could take it on a long journey. 

Ophelia is still overpowered by her anger and worries but the innocuous Ulysses subtly begins to share his own fears and pains and finds a way to connect with Ophelia.

He'd defused my suicide-bomber belt with his chocolate bars and calming voice. (pg. 86)

Similarly Ophelia's artwork begins to have a positive impact on the two teens, enabling them to become the warriors she creates on the walls.  But can those shifts in Ophelia and Ulysses be sustained and carry them through a violent invasion into their safe space as well as their emerging sexualities?

Ophelia is a powerful book of a teen's struggles, a deep and insightful introspection of her shattering anger and apprehension.  Though Ophelia writes with the chaotic musings of a young person in trauma, alternating recollections of the past, with current struggles and anticipation of the future, there is a lifeline of progression from out-of-control angst to increasing self-reflection and empathy to self-acceptance and empowerment that is so real that it is visceral.

From Ophelia 

by Charlotte Gingras 

illus. by Daniel Sylvestre

I am so pleased that Groundwood Books has brought Ophélie (Courte Echelle, 2008), the original French-language novel from Governor General-award winning author Charlotte Gingras, to English readers through this translation by Christelle Morelli and Susan Ouriou.  Emboldened with the artwork of Montréaler Daniel Sylvestre, readers will catch glimpses of the fury and anxiety of Ophelia in her sketches and tags as they bear witness to her progress.  But it is the voice of Ophelia, heartfelt and agonized, as she verges on implosion and explosion, as well as that of Ulysses struggling with his own issues, that need to be heard and heeded by young readers and those who care for them.  There may not be a happy ending but there is hope for better.

Louis Undercover

Written by Fanny Britt

Illustrated by Isabelle Arsenault

Translated by Christelle Morelli and Susan Ouriou

Groundwood Books

978-1-55498-859-4

160 pp.

Ages 9-14

October 2017

From the acclaimed partnership of Fanny Britt and Isabelle Arsenault that brought us the award-winning Jane, the Fox and Me (Groundwood, 2013), which was also translated by Christelle Morelli and Susan Ouriou, comes a second graphic novel of emotional sensitivity, this time in a complex familial context.

The title may suggest a children's game of spying but Louis is more discreet observer and listener.  He watches important people in his life and sees what they do and hears what they say.  These observations form the fabric of his interactions with them, bringing out his sensitivities, fears and compassion. And he has much to observe, as he and his little brother Truffle bounce between their city apartment where they live with their mother and their country house where their alcoholic father still lives.

From Louis Undercover 

by Fanny Britt 

illus. by Isabelle Arsenault

Louis sees the ups and downs of his father's alcoholism: the manic periods of song and big plans and the depressive times of tears and melancholy, especially when the boys leave.  At home, he sees the joy in his mother when they return but also her sarcasm and loneliness.  Louis has his own secret burdens which he only shares with his good friend Boris.  Louis is in love with Billie.

She’s a spectacled siren, a rainstorm,
A chocolate fountain, a silent queen. (pg. 50)

From Louis Undercover 

by Fanny Britt 

illus. by Isabelle Arsenault

He is overwhelmed by his affection for Billie but he is immobilized into inaction.  

I had no idea that love is like a rock shattering your heart, as painful as it is life-giving, and that even as it makes you want to bolt, it keeps you glued to the spot. (pg. 58)

Though he makes plans to speak with her, just to say a few words to the gutsy girl who stands up to injustice and reads voraciously, he can't do it, even with the summer holidays imminent and a gift of dice for her in his pocket.  

From Louise Undercover 

by Fanny Britt 

illus. by Isabelle Arsenault

But two weeks of the summer at their father's becomes a turning point for the family.  Their father has stopped drinking and seems to be his old positive self, as reflected in the splashes of yellow, hitherto reserved for Billie.  Though their mom is seen as mired in the sadness of the turquoise and the browns of regular life, when Truffle is injured and sent to hospital, she rushes to his side and stays with them at their old house.  She makes breakfast and laughs with their father and sleeps in his bedroom.  They're back to their "normal" family and a trip to New York City holds the promise of a complete reunion.  But, sadly and realistically, the yellows give way to the family's blues of the past.  Returning to school in the fall, Louis can take this experience as a life lesson that love can end badly or he can see the hope that it can conquer the worst.

Fanny Britt has given us a story about a family dealing with an alcoholic parent and creates a story of understanding.  Louis sees what has happened to his family and is disheartened by it.  He recognizes the signs of his father's drinking and the impact on his mother and their family.  He is wary of love and how it can go horribly wrong.  (Note Louis' watching of his sober father playing with the happy Truffle in the illustration above.) Even his mother, ever immersed in the sadness of needing to be separated from her husband, holds out hope for recovery and reconciliation.  How Louis will adapt that understanding to his own crush on Billie, desperate to speak with her but reluctant and apprehensive about the outcome, is an ending that must be read and seen to be fully appreciated.  

From Louis Undercover 

by Fanny Britt 

illus. by Isabelle Arsenault

Isabelle Arsenault does emotional storytelling in illustration. She doesn't just draw pictures to go with the story; she builds the story with surreal elements that create depth and carry the nuance of Louis' family's circumstances.  The use of yellow and turquoise, with the browns and greys, subtly convey the emotion of each situation.  The yellow is positive and hopeful and cheery, as when Louis watches Billie or his family is happy and Dad is sober.  Turquoise permeates those illustrations of lives living with heartbreak.  Real life is brown and grey because it's sobering and no-nonsense.  

There is much sadness in Louis Undercover.  Turquoise and browns and greys are the overwhelming colours.  But be assured that there is yellow in Louis' life and Fanny Britt resolves his story with a subtle explosion of positivity matched by Isabelle Arsenault exquisite artwork.

Nathan

Written by Susan Ouriou

Red Deer Press

978-0-88995-547-9

152 pp.

Ages 7-12

October 2016

Bullies come in all sizes and ages.  Some are in the past and some in the present but their impact is as damaging as any trauma that can make you feel like you don’t belong or that you are not safe.  In her first middle grade book, Susan Ouriou, best known for her translations (including Pieces of Me; Jane, the Fox and Me; This Side of the Sky), tackles the heavy issue of bullying from different perspectives: a  school bully tormenting young Nathan, the historical trauma of residential schools as experienced by Nathan’s grandfather’s mother, and even the assault of Altzheimer’s on the human spirit.  All are brutal and relentless but there is reconciliation.

It’s summer, and the family is starting to move Grampa from his own home to live with them, and it’s making everyone tense.  Mom acts annoyed and can be downright rude to her father.  Dad just thinks Grampa should go straight into a nursing home.  Grampa isn’t always sure what’s going on but seems resigned to accept it.  And Nathan would do anything to keep his Grampa  as the impressive giant of a man he always was.  Grampa is especially sympathetic when Nathan, who is being bullied by a boy named Adam, is repeatedly accosted by the boy while enjoying outdoors play with a new friend Max.

“…no good could come of digging up the past.  All that counted was remembering we come from survivors.  We’re tough.” (pg. 25)

Grampa takes Nathan and Max (and Nathan’s Mom, who knows Grampa should not be driving) to  the museum at the Tsuut´ina Nation to meet Elder Estella who teaches about the impact of European settlement on First Nations.  Nathan learns his great-Gramma had been First Nations and had had to survive living at a residential school, where kids were bullied by adults and didn’t have their parents around to protect them.  

The school year begins and a vicious assault by Adam on Nathan and Max leaves Nathan psychologically impacted and unable to walk and Max moving to another school.  As constant companions, Grampa, whose Alzheimer’s is worsening, and Nathan become the supports they need to survive their personal ordeals and grow stronger because of them.

Though the title suggests a book all about Nathan, it goes far beyond the young boy’s story, being a middle-grade novel dense with emotion and conflict and drama, of family and trauma and First Nations and bullies and history. Susan Ouriou whose interpretation experiences include Edmonton’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission as well as The Banff Centre’s Indigenous Writers Program weaves the past, in terms of the residential schools and the Holocaust of WWII, with the present, and family with community.  Through her characters and the story, she shows us that there were and are many who are “some kind of strong and some kind of brave” (pg. 83) and that includes Nathan whose compassion lets him see Adam beyond a tormentor and Grampa who must live through his own torment while still looking to help others.  Nathan is a story of resilience and courage that bridges generations and offers understanding and even some degree of assurance.