‘It was like being a caveman, not a boy of the present, with schoolwork and tests and bedtime.’ (p 12)
For all readers, including children
I remarked in my last post (Running With Horses) that high quality illustrated fiction for older children (as opposed to graphic novels or picture books) is a rare thing. I would not wish to change this general statement, but here is another breathtaking new example. This one is probably accessibly to a slightly younger readership (10+ perhaps), although I say this in the context of what a good number of prominent literary figures have reminded us*, that children’s books are most emphatically not just for children. I am sure that a wide audience will gain immense pleasure, reward and challenge from this truly mind-blowing joint creation.
Truth beyond reality
A.F. Harold has already produced a considerable body of fine work for children in both poetry and fiction, ranging from moving, through odd, to downright silly. However, he always provides an idiosyncratic, insightful way of seeing that is never without the underlying skill of a true wordsmith. This, his new full novel is truly remarkable. In it he tautly creates the characters and lives of a group of contemporary kids with convincing authenticity. They vividly emerge as credible, down-to-earth children, with realistic lives, in family situations generally far from the easy. Their dialogue is naturalistic, often funny and truthful, even down to the level of them finding underarm farts hilarious. However, the author then moves these same characters seamlessly in an out of a fantasy, fairy-tale world in a way that is disturbing to say the least, often seriously chilling, yet never disrupts total credibility within the context of his narrative. So much so, that when they segue again, this time into something far more of an ‘X Files’ scenario, it doesn’t jar either. Most remarkable of all, this allows him to explore almost metaphysical speculation about what life might be like if those who cause us serious problems were somehow removed from it. This highly original mental (and emotional) speculation, almost hypnotically repetitive, yet quite different from the already much explored ‘groundhog day’ type of experience, is both riveting and profoundly challenging.** When events seem to be repeating themselves, but with different participants, the changes are as important as the similarities. It is almost a magical, mystical game of literary ‘spot the difference’. It is all very complicated, but (at the risk of clichė) then so is life. It has much darkness, but then so too does life. This may be a story accessible to young readers, but perhaps not so much for those seriously given to nightmares. At times it is truly terrifying. But then there is much light too, again, as thankfully in life. And if the ending is odd, ambiguous, idiosyncratic, well this is A. F. Harrold. At least it opens a door.
A poet’s prose
All this is achieved through language that is equally remarkable. It is superficially simple and often constructed in relatively short, almost abrupt sentences, their rather stilted rhythm, emphasised by frequent line breaks, capturing thought patterns. Yet, behind this is the skill and sensibility of the poet, rendering everything vividly communicative and rich in allusion: redolent of meaning and emotional resonance.
‘It was always like this.
Had been since his mum had gone.
Just the two of them, rubbing up against one another, like stones.
You were supposed to get sparks and start a fire and keep warm, but more often than not, all you got was dust and scrapes and bad feelings.’ (p 139)
This gives rise to easy accessibility at a functional reading level at the same time as offering deep challenge and rich, true reading experience at deeper ones. It is the work of a very fine writer,
So much more than illustrations
All of this is yet to take into account the Levi Pinfold’s copious illustrations, which provide a fully integrated contribution to the reading experience.. I already could hardly admire this artist more. As examples, his collaboration with David Almond in the older children’s picture book The Dam is just breathtaking, as are his illustrations for Hannah Gold’s two beautiful books, The Lost Bear and The Last Whale. And that’s not to mention his previous stunning collaboration with A. F. Harrold himself in The Song From Somewhere Else.
Yet, this current work is almost on another level again. The two drawings that staggered me most are the close-up face of the old ‘witch’ on page 57 and the girl’s eyes on page 220. I have seen pictures in the National Portrait Gallery that do not communicate character and emotion with near as much power and potency. Not far behind are the many pictures of the woods, combining natural wonder with ancient (dark) power. They create the same tensions and potentialities as the text, with subtle differences reflecting their position in the narrative. Overall the illustrations complement the text perfectly in giving a sense of heightened reality to both the everyday and the fantasy elements, blending them into one all-consuming narrative. Light in the shadows. Shadows in the light. Ironically (for they are almost blank) the most powerful illustrated pages of all are those that come between the ‘Tuesday Night’ and the ‘Wednesday’ chapters. (But I cannot say more without spoiling the story, and I would certainly not wish to do that. You must read it for yourself, the pictures as much as the words.)
Philosophy too
An incident with a rope swing on a tree by a stream instantly brings up echoes of the wonderful Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson, but this is a very different book, though equally wonderful. Its narrative continually shocks and surprises even after seeming to set up predictability. It conjures a series of intensely experienced moments, and yet pulls them together into flowing, viscerally exciting, storytelling. This is a book that will end up with thinking, as well as feeling, readers, even if it did not start with them.
‘How real are you if no one thinks about you? If no one remembers you? . . . . . Tommo didn’t know the word ‘philosophy’, but in bed, in the dark, it knew him.’ (p 163)
Youngsters who read (and enjoy) this book may, or may not, know the word ‘philosophy’, but it will know them.
Butterfly wings,
Ripples,
Consequences.
Leading where?
‘Today was today, and the only thing to do with todays is to live them.’ (p 241)
This stunning collaboration goes straight onto my list for Books of 2022, alongside Running With Horses. I confidently predict major award nominations ahead.
Notes:
* For example, Katherine Rundell and S.F.Said
** The closest comparison here is perhaps with Gareth P. Jones’ very fine novel from 2015, No True Echo, although that one is not illustrated.
