Illustrated by Tim Ladwig
"A Stowaway on Noah's Ark"
By Charles Santore
"Because Nothing Looks Like God"
By Lawrence Kushner and Karen Kushner
"Witches' Night of Fear"
By Silver Ravenwolf
In 1993, Tim Ladwig won great acclaim in 1993 for his picture book "Psalm Twenty-Three," which depicted two small African American children resting in the Psalm's promises as they navigate the inner city. Ladwig modernized the psalm's familiar lines with a canny aptness, illustrating the "valley of the shadow of death," for instance, as a dim street corner peopled by surly characters.
Tim Ladwig is back with "The Lord's Prayer," which takes much the same approach, interpreting the prayer in fresh ways through the eyes of an African American girl and her father who team up to help an elderly woman. "On earth as it is in heaven," reads the text, as Ladwig depicts the two helpers, in overalls and carrying garden tools, showing up at their friend's door. They accept no payment for their labors ("forgive us our debts"). Ladwig's deep faith resonates from the creativity apparent on every page of this book.
But the power of Santore's pen outdoes his storytelling, which isn't of the same quality. After "The Mouse's Tale," which tells the story of Jesus' birth from the lowly-mouse POV, there would seem to be no need for another mouse-as-narrator-of-biblical-events storybook. (Then again, we all know what happens when you give a mouse a cookie. There will likely be more books of this ilk.)
Lawrence and Karen Kushner elucidate a sweet panentheism (God is in everything; not to be confused with pantheism--God is everything) in "Because Nothing Looks Like God." Illustrated with vividly colored but basic watercolors throughout, "Because Nothing." answers a series of theological questions (Where is God? What does God look like? How does God make things happen?), attempting to explain God's presence in terms that small children will understand: God is in cookies fresh from the oven, in a worn baby blanket, in "birdchirp, frogsong and chattering squirrels," in "the Band-Aid fix-up after a fall." In short, it asserts, "God is wherever we let God in."
The Kushners' illustrations are so determinedly multicultural--Native American and Asian family portraits crowd in with scenes in which kids of all races play happily--that they feel a bit forced, but the book's heart is certainly in the right place.
"Witches' Night of Fear," which opens at a Halloween party featuring the typical adolescent assortment of nerds, druggies, and popular kids, concerns a murder that Bethany sees in a disturbing psychic vision. Bethany and her friends set out to catch the killer, all the while dealing with pretty serious adolescent angst: parental abandonment, an eating disorder, and an abusive boyfriend are all in the book; other characters suffer from drug abuse, their parents' extramarital affairs, their teenage lovers' infidelities, and domestic violence. Whew! Oh, and of course they also experience the usual pressures: trying to get good grades and wondering what in the heck to do when they grow up.
Where, it might be asked, are these kids' folks amid all this trauma? In the style of Nancy Drew and other teen queens (Belle and the Little Mermaid also come to mind), Bethany's mother is conveniently dead, making her daughter at once a sympathetic character and one who enjoys a nice amount of freedom. Like Mr. Drew, Bethany's dear old dad is a workaholic who occupies Bethany's thoughts but not much of her day-to-day life. (A police officer in New York City, he keeps Bethany upstate because she's so much "safer" there. He is, of course, clueless.)