Cover art by David Litchfield
‘Dark, angry purples and greys swirled in the sky as the rain poured down and met the ocean, which churned in shades of dark blue. . . It was like staring at a living Van Gogh painting. Fig walked to the edge of the boardwalk, squinting, wanting to see the impasto in those waves, the brushstrokes in the clouds.’ (p 237)
Educating for diversity
I stand resolutely with the many parents, carers and other educators who believe we have a responsibility to help children grow as tolerant members of an inclusive society, happily accepting differences in background, ethnicity and sexuality as welcome aspects of a richly varied society. Our duty of care must include doing all we can to counter the influence of the stereotypes and prejudices that still blight that our current society. And if we cannot yet bequeath our children a completely better world, then we must at least open for them the possibility of building their own.
The books children read can provide one important route into developing an inclusive outlook. It has been said before that the best stories act as both mirror and window. They allow many children to see themselves there, and this can be a crucially supportive experience, particularly if they feel, or have been made to feel, different and inferior. To find, in a book, others just like them, presented in a positive light, is often both comforting and encouraging, helping to restore a positive self-image. Similarly children can learn, through fiction, to empathise with and come to accept people that they might otherwise have thought of as different; to realise that differences are not to be feared but celebrated; to understand that ‘normal’ can and should be a wonderfully diverse concept.
Few better examples
It is in this spirit, that I recommend US author Nicole Melleby’s Hurricane Season in the strongest possible terms. And yet I am able to recommend it not simply because it presents single-sex relationships, between females and between males, as a very positive aspect of normal life, which it certainly does, but because it is a truly outstanding piece of children’s fiction on any count.
Hurricane Season is in many ways a truly beautiful book. It is beautifully conceived and written, beautiful in its cultural resonances, and deeply beautiful in its humanity. It is also a very harrowing read. But then it is one of those stories that, once you have read it, you are profoundly thankful that you did. In fact, it is not essentially about single-sex relationships, but about living with someone with mental illness. And that makes it even more important and special because children’s books like this one, bringing sensitivity and compassion to our relationship with those suffering from mental health issues, are as rare as hen’s teeth. This is an inclusion issue for our society that shamefully lags behind even other deserving causes.
Those we love, loved
Fig, the book’s vividly realised protagonist, lives with her single parent father, whose life is being devastated by a form of bipolar disorder. She loves him desperately and wants to help and support him despite her childish lack of understanding of what is going on. She lives in constant fear of them being separated by the social services to whom the case had already been notified by well-intentioned outsiders, and this permeates what are otherwise the normal, early adolescent concerns of an eleven year old schoolgirl. One of the very remarkable and powerful things about the novel is that the situation is always shared with readers through the thoughts and perceptions of Fig herself. Through this we come fully to experience the way her desperation to understand her father battles with her resentment at being shut out from his life. We learn about her situation, not through cold objectivity, but by sharing in an utter confusion and impotence, that is nevertheless permeated by deep love.
When Fig’s father, in due course, finds himself in a loving relationship with another man, Fig is initially resentful but works towards the realisation that this it is, in fact, helping all of them to move forward. As the partnership grows towards providing a new feeling of family for Fig, its positive role in making all their lives better is another of the book’s wonderfully integrated messages. That the author achieves this in a way totally accessible to her young audience makes it even more remarkable.
Hurricanes and starry nights
I have yet to mention, though, another of this novel’s greatest triumph, one that in my mind unreservedly elevates it into the category of fine children’s literature, and this is the way that iterative images and cultural parallels are woven through the narrative with consummate skill. First, there is the theme of weather, particularly storms - the hurricane season of the title - which forms a powerful background of both actuality and metaphors to the turbulence of the tale. Even more striking, though, are the recurrent references to Van Gogh, his work, life, letters and, perhaps especially, his relationship to his brother Theo. These occur not only directly in Fig’s thinking about herself and her father, but subliminally too in chapter titles and other subtle references. It is all quite magically handled by this remarkable author.
Complementing the story wonderfully, David Litchfield’s lovely cover illustration is to be warmly commended for cleverly referencing the Van Gogh connection, whilst still creating an image that captures the book’s unique feeling, and its accessibility to a children’s audience.
Some other strong recommendations
I have recently enjoyed many other very fine books that incidentally introduce same-sex relationships in the way I think they should for children; that is, not as an issue, but as a perfectly normal aspect of a diverse society. Amongst special favourites are Piers Torday’s moving There May Be a Castle (reviewed here Dec ‘16), The Marvels from the brilliant Brian Selznick (review July ‘15) and two delightful children’s books from Room author Emma Donoghue, The Lotterys Plus One (Review April ‘18) and its sequel, The Lotterys More or Less.