Tag: short-story

Small, Hearty, and Transcendent

Eon: My Pet Tardigrade – written by Cybèle Young, illustrated by Cybèle Young and Nell Jocelyn
Tundra Books, 2026

This enthralling picture book has several potential audiences. It could be categorized as part of STEAM, since the tardigrade is an actual microscopic animal, one that can survive in an array of environments, and even emerge from a kind of dormant state called “tun,” essentially coming back to life. They are microscopic in size, and oddly resemble, at least in the opinion of some observers, tiny bears or pigs.  In addition to young scientists, the story of Eon, the pet tardigrade will appeal to readers who like miniatures, both real and fantastic, and form attachments to these special creatures endowed with fascinating qualities. Anyone, young or old, interested in outstanding picture book art, paper sculpture, and the combination of pencil drawing with collage-influenced composition, will love this book. 

A girl first encounters Eon, as she will name him, under the lens of a microscope. He peers from behind a microscopic plant. When his face is appears enlarged, he seems to have “two little eyes.” Unlike the other flora and fauna surrounding him, “he ambled and plodded like a bear.”  Soon the girl, rendered in graphite pencil, feels so strongly that she wishes she could hug this new pet; the white page bears bright red folded paper hearts, which are only a hint of the artistry to come.

Does the story of Eon and the girl resemble narratives about fairies? Yes, and it also forms part of the genre about nurturing an animal and then, selflessly, releasing it to the world where it can flourish, such as Love Is and A Fairy Friend by Claire Keane. In her revealing afterword, Cybèle Young explains how she first observed tardigrades, but also, how they became intertwined with her background creating miniature paper sculpture. When Nell Jocelyn, also an accomplished paper artist, became involved in this project, a fully formed narrative about curiosity, creativity, and attachment was realized.  Young also draws on her experiences as a mother and grandmother to trace both the emotional genesis and physical production of the book.

If you, or the children in your life, have ever designed meticulously scaled furniture and accessories for dolls, pets, or fairies, you will relate to Eon’s good  fortune. There are small dioramas with folded paper staircases, playful paper gears, erupting volcanoes, and fishing swimming through the sea. Recreation is available as the smallest paper circus, and a birthday picnic with seemingly edible delicacies must make Eon happy. There is a Ferris wheel, a folding chair, and a goose-necked lamp, all occupied by Eon. Each creation is exquisite, and together, the graphic composition of all the images is a seamless story.

Still, one day Eon ceases to thrive and goes to sleep. The girl gently sends him on his voyage to a more appropriate home. Maybe comfortable bedding and indoor lighting are not conducive to his survival. The process of creating these items is not pointless; it has its own intrinsic value, running parallel to the girl’s nurturing feelings and confidence in her achievement as an artist. If she and Eon are reunited, that will be wonderful.

A Crowded Nap

The Fluffy Futon – written and illustrated by Yuichi Kusano, translated from the Japanese by Cathy Hirano
Gecko Press, 2026

In Yuichi Kusano’s The Fluffy Futon, a grandmother takes a nap on the bedding of the title. What begins as a solitary rest soon becomes crowded with farm animals, who take up a great deal of physical space on the futon without disturbing the grandmother.  If the story is a fable, it is one without a simple and convenient moral. 

The pictures are quietly beautiful, and the grandmother is comforting. We never learn much about her, but we can infer some qualities from the simple text and subdued colors of the drawings.  As the story begins, she is airing the futon on the porch of her traditional Japanese home. The endpapers show her purposefully carrying the futon to the porch, with a smile on her face. She is followed by a parade of farm animals and a young boy, but it is not clear if she is aware of their presence or not. 

The first animal to arrive is a yawing cat, apparently ready for a rest.  The grandmother must be hardworking, as the house looks orderly from the outside. It is less certain why the cat is tired. The two-page spread positions three quarters of the futon on one page; it crosses the book’s gutter and is completed on the next page, along with the cat. White space surrounds the animal ,and its shadow is visible. The grandmother looks quizzically at the cat, but yawning is contagious. Soon she lies down and falls asleep. We don’t know if she is dreaming.

A mother hen and her chicks come along. Unlike the cat, they are a family. Then a pair arrive, a boy and his dog. A goat wearing a big, noisy, bell joins the nap, along with a pig and her piglets. Each page shows a different constellation of sleepers, moving and sharing their space. But the grandmother remains the central figure. She doesn’t need to assert her importance, but eventually her outstretched arms and relaxed body send the animals to the margins.

When the grandmother wakes up, her eyes still seeming half asleep, she pronounces that it has been a “lovely nap,” and that it is “time to get up.” The cat is still sleeping, but the grandmother must have more focused and productive labor in her tranquil home. In the last scene, the futon is the character, resting alone on the porch, with shoes neatly lined up below for anyone who wears them.

Bright But Fragile

Penelope’s Balloons – written and illustrated by Brooke Bourgeois
Union Square Kids, 2024

Children can become attached to unexpected objects. Some, like balloons, have a limited life span. In Penelope’s Balloons by Brooke Bourgeois, a young elephant who is “quiet…bright,” and “a bit particular,” cannot let go of ten red balloons, either literally or figuratively. She is happy lying on her back and watching them suspended in the air, but also keeps them close while eating or diving.

From the beginning of the story, it seems evident that there will be both a problem and a message here. Penelope’s balloon obsession does not prevent her from socializing, In fact, she has many friends of different species. The balloons only make her more “perceptible” and popular, to choose another adjective that is alliterative with her name. The problem is the fragile nature of her favorite item.  Her best friend, Piper, is a hedgehog; say no more. Allie is an alligator with sharp teeth. On the other hand, Gerry the giraffe is a good friend to have, her long neck offering some protection from potential piercing. 

Eventually, Penelope learns the inevitable lesson about avoiding disaster. Sometimes you cannot.  A thunderstorm does not have functional points, but it’s invisible winds can still destroy. Forlorn, Penelope shelters in the forest. She is alone. This picture has no bright red to contrast with the gray and green foliage. Even her friend Piper’s comforting words cannot erase Penelope’s grief.  As Piper leads her across a thick branch serving as a bridge, the young elephant is hunched over, her ears falling like flaps over her face. All of a sudden, she seems old.

Arriving home, Penelope stands in front of the doors and rushes in. One balloon has survived and accompanied her. Now we meet her parents. Her mother seems almost confused, which is surprising. Surely her family is well-aware of her balloon problem. There is an expressive scene, viewed from the top of the staircase, of a determined Penelope racing her room.  Her mother and younger sibling are small and helpless figures receding into the background.

Penelope frantically sets to work creating an elaborate fort to protect the balloon. Her intense anxiety foreshadows the upcoming disaster, as well as the solution.  Sometimes, with patience, things will work out. The likelihood of this scenario, with the other nine balloons all magically reappearing, seems like pure wish fulfillment (as in Claire Keane’s Love Is). However, Penelope decides that giving her balloons, or, by extension, any beloved, a little space, is the best way to keep them close.  The author also suggests that Penelope’s strange attachment had actually been distancing her from her actual friends, “the sharp and spiky ones” who posed a threat to her happiness.

A word about Babar seems required. Any children’s book presenting anthropomorphized elephants seems, to some extent, an homage to Jean and Laurent de Brunhoff.  Certainly, some of her animal friends include monkeys, rhinos, and other residents of Celesteville. (Although the rhinos are not bad guys here.) Penelope is certainly less sophisticated and cosmopolitan than Babar, but there is still a sweet reminder of how animals with human qualities offer a unique connection with children.  There is more than one lesson in Penelope’s Balloons, and the book is well-worth sharing with them.

Freedom from Hunger

Maddi’s Fridge – written by Lois Brandt, illustrated by Vin Vogel
Flashlight Press, 2014 (paperback edition, 2022. Reading app available:
https://apps.apple.com/us/app/maddis-fridge/id6748969593)

Thanksgiving is associated with families sharing a plentiful amount of food, but not all Americans have access to this custom.  Freedom from hunger is a human right. Historically, it has been an American right, even if this ideal has not always been realized.  Norman Rockwell’s iconic paintings depict the Four Freedoms that President Roosevelt had a promoted during World War II as a reminder of the war’s purpose.  Maddi’s Fridge is a non-ideological picture book for children.

It does not discuss the social and economic programs needed to combat income inequality; that is not its purpose. Lois Brandt and Vin Vogel present the problem of hunger through the friendship of two girls, Sofia and Maddi. Sofia has always assumed that her well-stocked refrigerator is the norm. When she learns that her friend’s is virtually empty, Sofia needs to help her friend without betraying a secret.

Vogel’s illustrations are understated and appealing.  They convey a sense of community, even a modern version of Rockwell’s, as well as a touch of mid-twentieth century animation.

Sofia’s family is well-fed, with the inventory of her refrigerator even including dog food. Brandt enumerates each item for human consumption: chicken, yogurt, cheese, carrots, bread. In contrast, her friend Maddi’s refrigerator has barely enough to sustain her and her younger brother.  Brandt and Vogel show, in words and images, the asymmetry of the situation without elaborating on its cause.  Instead, Sofia’s dilemma is central to the story.  How can she help Maddi? Bringing foods for the two friends to share as they play outside will not address the problem.

Adults reading with their children may anticipate Sofia’s decision, but children will not necessarily predict the outcome.  Maddi’s Fridge presents an opportunity to discuss why breaking a promise of secrecy may be not only permissible, but crucial.  The book’s afterword provides further suggestions for filling empty fridges, on an individual and communal level.  The book’s relevance today is a sad statement about the refusal to ensure that all children are cared for, but it at least represents an intelligent and sensitive way to shed light on the problem.