the book for the soul that almost got left behind….
by bam
months ago now, i first cracked open the pages of a quiet little slip of a book. i’d fallen in love at the cover, and even more so once i slipped inside. i was charmed, and taken back to when i’d first turned the pages of the little prince, or crept into the hundred-acre wood of winnie the pooh & co. i dutifully wrote and turned in my 650-word review but all these months later, it’s still not run in the pages of the newspaper i wrote it for, and i don’t think it’s ever going to, but i can’t let it slip away. so, since i’m under the covers once again with a fever and achy aches, here’s a book you might want to know about. you too might melt into its pages….
The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and the Horse
Written and illustrated by Charlie Mackesy, HarperOne, 128 pages, $22.99
You might want to scoop up two copies of “The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and the Horse.” One, so you can curl up in a favorite spot, and slowly, slowly turn the pages over and over again — a soul-rippling book to be absorbed as much as one to be read. And that second copy, perhaps, so you can frame the pages that most make your heart sigh. You’d not be foolish to want to rouse every morning and rest your eyes on the heart-piercing wisdoms of this improbable quartet journeying across the pages.
That’s how beautiful is this tender fable, a story for all ages, a story of unlikely friendship, infinite kindness, and the poignant lessons of love, so apt for these tumultuous times.
It’s a stirringly-drawn, achingly-unspooled tale that belongs on the treasured shelf of storybook classics that are never outgrown, alongside the likes of “The Velveteen Rabbit,” “The Little Prince,” and any one of the originals from A. A. Milne, he who gave us Christopher Robin and Winnie-the-Pooh.
Don’t think that the mention of titles from long-ago childhood in any way diminishes the potency of British illustrator Charlie Mackesy’s genius. Mackesy, long a cartoonist for The Spectator, a British politics-and-culture weekly, and a book illustrator for Oxford University Press, has over the years collaborated with Richard Curtis for Comic Relief and with Nelson Mandela on a lithograph project, “The Unity Series.” In other words, he’s been incubating his extra-large heart for a rather long while.
And here he bulls-eyes his target.
In these pages, with words penned in brush and ink, and fresh-off-the-drafting-pad ink drawings, often washed over in watercolor, we meet, one by one, the charming quartet, an assemblage of misfit archetypes encompassing a tender arc of all creatures great and small.
The boy is lonely we find out right away. Mole, though, befriends him without hesitation. Mole, of course, can’t see very well as moles are not known for their visual acuity. But as is often the case in fable or parable, tracing all the way back to Sophocles in ancient Greece, the great seers are often the ones who are blind. And so it seems here, where Mole is the voice of infinite wisdom (and insatiable appetite for sugary cake).
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” asks Mole.
“Kind,” said the boy.
“What do you think success is?” asked the boy.
“To love,” said the mole.
Not long after, we bump into Fox, yet another universal character, and Mackesy tells us in his prologue that “fox is mainly silent and wary because he’s been hurt by life.” Isn’t that a not-unfamiliar affliction? Horse, Mackesy tells us, might be the biggest thing the other three have ever encountered, but he is “also the gentlest.” Again, don’t we all know — and love — someone like Horse?
When crossing a river on horseback, the boy slips and falls. But Horse catches him, and says, wisely, “Everyone is a bit scared. But we are less scared together.” And then, nuzzling against the bowed head of the boy, Horse adds: “Tears fall for a reason and they are your strength not weakness.” Remounting Horse, and riding deeper into the story, Boy asks: “What is the bravest thing you’ve ever said?”
“Help,” said the horse.
Traveling on through snow and storm, huddling gently together in the inky-dark of the night, the quartet offer up wisdom upon wisdom, settling deeper and deeper into a contemplative landscape in which love and loyalty quietly win the day. It’s the simplicity of the question and answer, the unfettered truth, that serves as arrowhead to Mackesy’s heart-seeking quiver.
In the end, any of us might long for permanent residency in this unlikely landscape where when asked, “What do we do when our hearts hurt?” as the boy asked his friends, the answer is this: “We wrap them with friendship, shared tears and time, till they wake hopeful and happy again.”
Barbara Mahany is the author of several books, including, “Slowing Time: Seeing the Sacred Outside Your Kitchen Door.” Twitter: @BarbaraMahany
feel free to fall in love with any of the pages i’ve brought here to the table. here’s one more to make you chuckle…..
i’d give the boy, the mole, the fox and the horse to anyone i loved — anyone little or not so little. do you have a picture book you fell in love with long long ago, and every time you crack it open you fall in love all over again? what is it?
“So much Beauty we have to look after” resonates beautifully and sadly today. I could frame that one in a heartbeat. What a wonderful share this is. How did you ever come across it? My “go to” childhood book is Miss Hickory by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miss_Hickory ). It is not a picture book per se, but illustrated with the most beautiful lithographs. On my little French Avenue in Lakewood Ohio, our gang of friends read it over and over…checked out from the library up the street. Miss Hickory was made with a hickory nut head and a body from an apple tree twig. She is a tiny force of nature in so many ways. In the story, the children who made her move away and she has to find a way to survive with help of others. It is a tender funny story that teaches so much wisdom. We all made our own hickory dolls, although we used acorns for her head…dressed her up and made little houses. It was a beautiful time in childhood when reading and play wove together to help us absorb life and loss. About 17 years ago, my sister gifted me with a copy she had found in some old book sale bin. She wrote in the fly leaf: “What fond memories I have of reading this book and trying to make our own Miss Hickory! I think my love of art and illustration began at Lakewood Library, as yours did of the written word.” I feel so grateful for Libraries and adults who value children as an audience for stories. Along with adults like yourself who still have the wonder of a child’s heart.
“So much Beauty we have to look after” resonates beautifully and sadly today. I could frame that one in a heartbeat. What a wonderful share this is. How did you ever come across it? My “go to” childhood book is Miss Hickory by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miss_Hickory ). It is not a picture book per se, but illustrated with the most beautiful lithographs. On my little French Avenue in Lakewood Ohio, our gang of friends read it over and over…checked out from the library up the street. Miss Hickory was made with a hickory nut head and a body from an apple tree twig. She is a tiny force of nature in so many ways. In the story, the children who made her move away and she has to find a way to survive with help of others. It is a tender funny story that teaches so much wisdom. We all made our own hickory dolls, although we used acorns for her head…dressed her up and made little houses. It was a beautiful time in childhood when reading and play wove together to help us absorb life and loss. About 17 years ago, my sister gifted me with a copy she had found in some old book sale bin. She wrote in the fly leaf: “What fond memories I have of reading this book and trying to make our own Miss Hickory! I think my love of art and illustration began at Lakewood Library, as yours did of the written word.” I feel so grateful for Libraries and adults who value children as an audience for stories. Along with adults like yourself who still have the wonder of a child’s heart.
Still enchanting is “Mister Dog,” a Little Golden Book by the dynamic duo of author Margaret Wise Brown and Illustrator Garth Williams. I still have it. And it’s still in print with the same gold spine (although, I read, not all the text or illustrations). It’s the story of dog Crispin’s Crispian, who belongs to himself, who meets a boy who also belongs to himself, and how they spend a day together, playing, making a meal and retiring at the end of the day to their own beds in the dog’s out-of-square two-story doghouse, which I wanted to live in. But something I noticed as an adult was a sentence that the dog did something a certain way “because he was conservative,” and conservative was in italics. Less a vocabulary word, more a not-so-subliminal message in this McCarthy-era tale? Added by an editor? Still in the 2003 edition? But it’s minor. I still love the book, and that particular message never got through to me.
bam, feel better soon!
that is sooooooooo bizarre! sure would love to hear the backstory on that……i think there is a really good history of the Little Golden Books out there. wonder if they explain such a thing…..
that’s quite a duo who wrote that, and i DON’T think MWB was the one who added the “conservative” in itals. garth williams must have made countless children literally fall in love with books……charlotte’s web, little house on the prairie, stuart little……oh my!
P.S., I just ordered a copy from my favorite indie bookstore in Andersonville. It is currently sold out. This unexpected gem is going into a second printing, so I’ll have to wait to get it. Thanks for telling all of us about it. And so happy for Charlie Mackesy’s success! Goodness wins!
oh, this makes me happy!!! xoxox
good morning, everyone — well, actually it’s almost 4 p.m. but i’ve been under covers and i am just now finding that dear lamcal tried and tried to send a comment that seems to be stuck in the WordPress cyberjungle.
here is joanie’s/lamcal’s lovely comment:
“So much Beauty we have to look after” resonates beautifully and sadly today. I could frame that one in a heartbeat. What a wonderful share this is. How did you ever come across it? My “go to” childhood book is Miss Hickory by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miss_Hickory ). It is not a picture book per se, but illustrated with the most beautiful lithographs. On my little French Avenue in Lakewood Ohio, our gang of friends read it over and over…checked out from the library up the street. Miss Hickory was made with a hickory nut head and a body from an apple tree twig. She is a tiny force of nature in so many ways. In the story, the children who made her move away and she has to find a way to survive with help of others. It is a tender funny story that teaches so much wisdom. We all made our own hickory dolls, although we used acorns for her head…dressed her up and made little houses. It was a beautiful time in childhood when reading and play wove together to help us absorb life and loss. About 17 years ago, my sister gifted me with a copy she had found in some old book sale bin. She wrote in the fly leaf: “What fond memories I have of reading this book and trying to make our own Miss Hickory! I think my love of art and illustration began at Lakewood Library, as yours did of the written word.” I feel so grateful for Libraries and adults who value children as an audience for stories. Along with adults like yourself who still have the wonder of a child’s heart.
Thank you for recommending this book! I went out this afternoon and found a copy at our local Target! I’ve only read a few pages of the introduction but I know it’s going to be a treasure! Michelle
Sent from my iPad
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thrilled that you were inspired to run out and find it! and thrilled you could find at target! i was serious about possibly framing some of the pages — it’s that beautiful!!!! thank you for reading the chair!
Here I am! I, too, had computer issues yesterday, but today they seem to have evaporated, thank goodness. As you know, I’ve ordered this wonderful book, and I cannot wait for it to arrive. It’s just precisely what my heart needs…. Thank you, thank you for posting this wonderful review!! And please, feel better soon. xxooxxoo ❤
ah!!!! such a delight to find you here, as it was PURE delight to hear from you yesterday that you’d already gone and ordered The Boy, The Mole,….
hope it’s not too snowy, icy along the great mississippi today. our shoreline is harboring us at least a wee little bit. a perfect day to stay under the covers, besides a sometimes roaring fire, with chicken soup to the rescue!
xoxo
I hope you are beginning to feel better…Thank you so much for letting this review see the light of day! You sent me down a most enjoyable rabbit hole (since it was snowing/blowing/raining/freezing outside) where by googling Charlie Mackesay’s name, I spent a wonderful two plus hours reading reviews (how can it be such a big bestseller and I had never even heard a whisper about it?), articles about the book and the author (really, I have fallen in love with him – and how he draws The Horse!) and watching video after video of him speaking. I would recommend you and all the chairs do the same. So thought-full! So wise! So healing! And funny…
Love that you felt into such a fine mole hole!!!!!
i’m back with the living five days later, and wandered over because this perfect poem for today, for this moment in history, just slipped under the door, and i thought more than a few here at the table might love this.
Poem with an Embedded Line by Susan Cohen
by Barbara Crooker
When the evening newscast leads to despair,
when my Facebook feed raises my blood pressure,
when I can’t listen to NPR anymore,
I turn to the sky, blooming like chicory,
its dearth of clouds, its vast blue endlessness.
The trees are turning copper, gold, bronze,
fired by the October sun, and the bees
are going for broke, drunk on fermenting
apples. I turn to my skillet, cast iron
you can count on, glug some olive oil,
sizzle some onions, adding garlic at the end
to prevent bitterness. My husband,
that sweet man, enters the room, asks
what’s for dinner, says it smells good.
He could live on garlic and onions
slowly turning to gold. The water
is boiling, so I throw in some peppers,
halved, cored, and seeded, let them bob
in the salty water until they’re soft.
To the soffrito, I add ground beef, chili
powder, cumin, dried oregano, tomato sauce,
mashed cannellinis; simmer for a while.
Then I stir in more white beans, stuff the hearts
of the peppers, drape them with cheese and tuck
the pan in the oven’s mouth. Let the terrible
politicians practice / their terrible politics.
At my kitchen table, all will be fed. I turn
the radio to a classical station, maybe Vivaldi.
All we have are these moments: the golden trees,
the industrious bees, the falling light. Darkness
will not overtake us.
“Poem with an Embedded Line by Susan Cohen” by Barbara Crooker from Some Glad Morning © 2019. Aired by permission of University of Pittsburgh Press. (buy now)
Bless you, bam, for bringing this book to our attention… have ordered it for
the children in my life. We who love the written word (on paper with printers’
ink) know the enlightenment and fascination it brough to our childhood’s imagination and that started our spirited journey to discovery and now cannot
resitst capturing the imagination of the little ones around us with such lore….
Oh the shades of Winnie the Pooh ~
i am OVER THE MOON that this lovely wonder of a book has struck such a radiant chord with so many chairsters. tis wonderful to know these pages will find their way into the hearts of so so many. bless you for reading so carefully, and taking the plunge!
bless you.