In this wordless story,
a shy boy finds a winged mentor in a cheery bluebird. The bird
helps the boy perk up after a rough day at school and then connects
him to some friendly children at a sailboat pond. But when bullies
kill the bird-a truly shocking moment-the story sheds its simple
yearning and wishfulness (with the bird as a kind of feathered
fairy godmother) and deepens into an eloquent affirmation of
love, faith, and the persistence of goodness. Staake (Bugs Galore!)
propels his story forward with steady assurance, using a largely
gray palette, geometric shapes, and comics-style framing. He
vividly evokes a Manhattanlike landscape that's overwhelming,
yet full of potential, and he gives full visual voice to the
boy's emotions; there are several moments when Staake stops the
action and lets his audience savor how the bird has transformed
the boy. It's possible (though not necessary) to attach the suggestion
of an afterlife to the final pages, but believers and skeptics
alike will find something deeply impressive and moving in this
work of a singular, fully committed talent.
- -- Publisher's
Weekly
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One little
boy, one little bird and one big city come together in a wordless
fable of friendship, school, loss and comfort. Readers see the
bluebird first, following the boy as he walks to school. Like
a guardian angel, the bird watches the boy, even while his classmates
mock him. Soon, the bird and boy become friends, returning home
from school together, playing hide-and-seek, stopping at a bodega
and sailing a boat in a pond. A run-in with a group of thugs
leads to the bird's demise. Blues and grays are the colors of
this urban world, allowing Staake's design to tell the story.
Horizontal and vertical panels are interspersed with full-page
spreads, encouraging the reader to slow down and experience the
story. Though the volume is wordless, there is some environmental
text on the signs of the city, which points to how the boy might
feel about his life. Each sign is nearly generic: Gotham Café,
Circus, The Steadfast Independent Books. Color changes, from
blue to near black to white to blue again, allow readers to feel
every emotion, including the devastating climax and the begs-to-be-discussed
ending, which is punctuated by eight birds of many colors escorting
the boy and the bluebird into the clouds.
Like nothing
you have seen before.
- -- Kirkus
Reviews
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With only a few hues of
blue, a rainbow of steely grays, and a set of geometric shapes,
Staake's wordless picture book explores friendship, wildlife,
sacrifice, death, and hope. A young boy's drab world of loneliness
gets a splash of color when he meets a perky bluebird. They share
a cookie, get ignored by a pickup soccer game, and play in a
pond before wandering into an ominous woods. There a squad of
bullies turns the day into a tragedy, with the bird lying lifeless
on the ground. An uplifting bit of magic closes the story, and
the boy is comforted as the bird is reunited with the clouds
and sky. In a mix of full-page artwork and small scenes arranged
in sequential panels, Staake works out an impressive range of
emotion, from the serene whimsy of cloud gazing to the cruel
pointlessness of death, in his distinctive circle-and square-
based artwork. Without use of a single word (outside of a few
pieces of signage to place the story in a New Yorkstyle
city), this book raises all kinds of simple profundities for
kids to question, ponder, imagine, and discuss.
- -- Booklist
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Few picture books capture
the somber hues of loneliness and introspection as stunningly
as Staake does in this aptly wordless tale of a boy and a bird.
Staake, a New Yorker cartoonist and creator of "The Red
Lemon," a New York Times Best Illustrated Book, has drawn
a book of true beauty. A young boy is bullied, and while the
teacher is oblivious, a bluebird sees all. He sings a merry tune.
He plays fly-and-seek. He befriends the boy, then he finds the
boy new friends. All this plays out in a New York City landscape
of melancholy grays and sky blue, and an unexpected, but welcome,
flutter of violet. A rainbow of colors descends in the final
pages for an enchanted, bittersweet ending.
- -- The
New York Times
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From its elegant, innovative
title sequence to its bittersweet conclusion, this picture book
is a feast for the observant eye. Except for some signage, it's
nearly wordless; in the title spread, a variant of the spare
jacket art serves as a shadowed billboard in a gray-toned cityscape
facing a dedication (to John James Audubon) against pure sky
blue, thus setting up the dialogue between those tones that will
parallel and reinforce the whole story. In the end, that hopeful
blue will triumph, but not until the protagonist-a downcast loner,
teased or ignored by his classmates-has trudged Manhattan's geometric,
gray streets, oblivious to possible friendship or fun until his
spirits are gradually lifted by the insistent bird following
him. Presently he's sharing crumbs and following it into Central
Park, where it leads him into play with other children. Then
dusk brings a bullies' ambush, conflict, a slingshot, sorrow-and
a dreamlike resurrection accompanied by a many-colored flock.
Staake's graphically distinguished art (rendered in Photoshop)
conveys extraordinary depth of emotion. Bodies are small, schematic;
heads huge, round, eloquent. Buildings-from delicate silhouette
to near-accurate representation-support action that's expertly
paced via a variety of frames and spreads until yielding to the
park's natural curves and then to that blue sky. A story of friendship,
of unfolding awareness, or of a more universal kind of love,
this quietly beautiful book invites repeated perusals.
- -- The
Horn Book
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Staake's ability to digitally
compose and contrast shapes for a pleasing geometric balance,
aesthetic effect, and narrative purpose has never been stronger
than in this wordless title about a heroic bird. Readers follow
its flight past a New York City skyline filled with cones, pyramids,
and rectangular prisms. Vertical lines are punctuated with stylized
circular trees, heads, iris shots, clocks, etc. The sky and bird
are indeed blue, but the lonely boy with the large, round head
is dark gray; shades of gray comprise much of his world. White
and black, used symbolically, complete the palette. The warbler
notices the boy with the downcast eyes being mocked as he enters
school. Afterward, the two play hide-and-seek, share a cookie,
sail a toy boat togetherin short, they become friends. Tuned-in
readers will note the dedication to Audubon, examples of his
art, the clock brand "Icarus," and other subtle thematic
supports. Conflict arises when they enter Central Park, which
is ominously dark, and bullies attempt to steal the boat. When
one of them hurls a stick, the bird blocks it and falls, lifeless.
As the child cradles his friend, the background brightens and
a brilliantly colored flock lifts the pair into the clouds, where
the creature fades from view as the boy waves good-bye. With
echoes of Disney-Pixar's Up and William Joyce's The Fantastic
Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore (S & S, 2012), this is
an apt fable for our time as we seek to help children develop
empathy, curb aggression, and sense hope.
-- The School
Library Journal
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"I wish I could say this without using words,
but I can't draw like Bob Staake. Few people can. This book
is a beautiful, beautiful thing." |
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- Gene Weingarten
- Pulitzer Prize-Winning
Columnist
- The Washington
Post
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"Bob Staake is a magician, an alchemist.
In his hands, geometric shapes poetically take on some of childhood's
big themes; tenderness, longing, and loss. A universal and deeply
resonating fable." |
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- Françoise Mouly
- Art Editor
- The New
Yorker
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"Bob Staake's wordless story of a boy and
his constant companion, a Bluebird, brings a tear to your
eye, a lump in your throat, and finally, a glow to your
heart." |
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- George Lois
- Creative and
Art Director
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