Stella & Marigold: Past and Presents (Book 3) – written by Annie Barrows, illustrated by Sophie Blackall
Chronicle Books, 2026
The overused term “modern classic” is completely accurate when applied to Annie Barrows and Sophie Blackall’s Stella & Marigold series (I reviewed the first two books here and here). It bears repeating, because these distinguished illustrated novels for children embody all the qualities of past stories, some of which are present like shadows throughout the narratives. One chapter is entitled “Wrinkles in Time,” another one of the author and illustrator’s allusions to the books that informed their own childhoods. Girls and women of the past, whether in the pages of a goddess coloring book or invented and drawn on the wall of your house by a previous resident, also live in the present.
The relationship between these two sisters is harmonious, but never idealized. They complement one another, and Marigold looks up to, and occasionally resents, her relatively more experienced older sibling. When the girls discover a mischievous sketch behind the sofa, they are awestruck. Marigold, in particular, struggles to grasp the idea that someone had existed before her, in her own home. The realization that someone would also live there in the future is even more disturbing, inspiring, and slightly unbelievable. Part of childhood is figuring out the meanings of time.
Stella invents an identity for the defiant young artist. Soon, Ziamara becomes a real person with a backstory that explains how a previously obedient child could have flagrantly broken the universal rule about not drawing on the walls. In Blackall’s picture, this young artist from the past is dressed the exotic costume of a fairy tale princess, even if her windowpane-patterned skirt and beaded bracelets have a homemade touch. She looks out at the reader, holding a marker behind her back, as if to imply that people can change in unexpected ways.
As in the previous two books, each chapter relates to the rest, producing the exact sense of a child’s system of associations. In one, Stella’s beleaguered teacher, Mr. Banagal, attempts to bring relevance to the Hundredth Day of School commemoration with an ambitious project for second graders. They are asked to draw a portrait of themselves at the age of 100. Stella and her classmates discuss the passage of time and the nature of portals, with Joana remarking that “You never know when you’re going to fall through a portal.”
In Marigold’s preschool class, no everyone stays on task when Teacher Kaitlin tries to contain their creativity in drawing buses. Conflict breaks out in the form of a disagreement about the limits of what is possible, as Marigold makes the astounding claim that “Ziamara can fly, almost.” Her literary inventiveness earns her the title of liar. At this point, readers may begin to think about the differences between telling stories and misleading one’s friends.
The Moon Goddess is one powerful female in Stella’s coloring book. The possibilities for completing her image seem endless. Later, when the girls decide to prepare a time capsule for whoever may live in the house in the future, the coloring book seems momentarily less important to Stella as an art project, and more essential to letting someone know who she once was. When the book and goddess return to Stella, a little the worse for wear, they become one more example of the connection between Stella and Marigold. Maybe they don’t actually read one another’s minds, and maybe Ziamara cannot fly, but their shared thoughts about time are real.