Jimmy Stewart & Alfred Hitchcock.
Watermelon & Goat Cheese.
Occasionally two individually brilliant concepts will unite to form a force of nature the likes of which you had never concieved. Sure, after the fact it makes perfect sense, and not only do you wonder why it took so long, but you wish you could have discovered it earlier.
The other day I saw this book cover and my head exploded:
Jon Muth is arguably the best illustrator working in picture books today; his The Three Questions and Zen Shorts are the kind of brilliant melding of parable and painting to which all Chadult* books aspire.
Mo Willems is a prolific monster of a writer/illustrator, selling kazillions of books between his clever Knuffle Bunny books and hilarious Elephant and Piggie and Pigeon series. He's the rare artist who simply does not publish lackluster material and the closest thing to Dr. Seuss that this generation has to offer. There are only two major things that, in my mind, separate Willems from the good Doctor:
1)He's not a stone-cold rhymer. Instead, Willems' weapon of choice is a converstional style heavily influenced by comic strips.
2)He hasn't risen above the level of entertainer. Seuss may be better known for The Cat in the Hat and Green Eggs and Ham, but his real brilliance shines in the likes of parables like The Butter Battle Book and The Lorax. Does this mean that Willems won't eventually put out work of that caliber? Of course not, but he has a ways to go.
Well, City Dog, Country Frog is certainly a step in the right direction.
Told in five acts, we first meet the titular characters in Spring:
City Dog spotted something he had never seen, sitting on a rock.
(It was Country Frog.)
"What are you doing?" asked City Dog.
"Waiting for a friend," replied Country Frog with a smile. "But you'll do."
Throughout the rest of the Spring, Country Frog teaches City Dog all of his favorite games, and these games are illustrated by Muth's beautiful watercolors. For instance:
(note: It doesn't actually say "creature comforts" in the book. This was the only interior picture I found online, though it is a beaut.)
In Summer, City Dog returns the favor and teaches Country Frog how to get down, City Doggie Style. Again, it's fun and you can't help but grin from ear to ear at the picture of a frog tossing a stick for a dog to fetch.
When the page it turned to Fall, you can tell that the change is gonna come. The text is simple: "City Dog didn't stop to sniff the falling leaves; he ran straight for Country Frog's rock." But it's the accompanying painting that sends the signal: this book is about to change. Country Dog is in the background, strolling off on his way. In the foreground is nothing. The autumnal trees are alight with reds and golds, but a cold shadow of blues and purples has already overtaken over half of the ground. It's the only page thus far that hasn't been dominated by the lush green of grass, foliage, and frogginess.
"What shall we play today?" asked City Dog. "Dog games or Frog games?"
Country Frog took a deep breath.
"I am a tired frog," replied Country Frog. "Maybe we can play remember-ing games."
And they proceed to sit on a rock, melded by Muth's brush into one violet smear, as the clouds above their heads show scenes of their more youthful shenanegins.
At this point, I'll stop telling the story and merely implore you to go and find this book. The beautiful nostalgia of Fall hints at a melancholy and makes you fear for Winter . . . but rest assured that this is not just one of your average slam dunk "your friend is dead" after school special type of stories. This is so much more. This is art.
By saying something as pretentious as "this is art" I mean to say that there are many different ways that you can read it, and I've already heard more than one theory.
Personally, I take the book to be a celebration of the fragile and temporary nature of friendship. I have had dozens of Best Friends throughout my life, some relationships lasting for years and others no more than a single night. The second Spring of this book made so many of these friends come flooding back to me. A crowd of faces with whom I've laughed, cried, eaten, drank, fought, loved, and discovered . . . people who introduced me to movies, music, food, philosophy, books, and everything else that sculpted who I am today, for better or worse. The blank look on City Dog's face in Winter was mine when these people left my life, sometimes violently and sometimes just having slowly slipped away without my even noticing.
And so I sat there in the vacant children's department in an old Barnes and Noble, a little weepy as I contemplated all of my old Country Frogs, and those to whom I may have been a Country Frog. "Contemplation" was never a word I'd have linked with any past Willems experience. Thanks, Mo, for proving that you have the ability to dial it up to a whole 'nother level. Thanks, Jon, for doing what you do best and tearing up those watercolors. You truly are a dream team.
*Chadult book (n) A children's book that's kinda meant for adults.
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