Memoirs of a Tortoise by Devin Scillian, illustrated by Tim Bowers

Memoirs of a Tortoise

By Devin Scillian, ill. Tim Bowers

Bluebonnet Award Winner

Ages 4+, grades 1+

In Memoirs of a Tortoise, Oliver spends his 81st year watching his garden change with the seasons, and reflects on life with– and without– his human, Ike. Through a conversation with his mother, the tortoise navigates grief and loss, and finds joy and closure on the other side.

Justification

This book was actually chosen by my son, a five-year-old animal lover, from the Texas Bluebonnet Awards list. I expect that it’s only a short matter of time before he notices and requests the rest of Devin Scillian’s "memoirs" books from the back cover. Despite the heavy theme of loss that makes up the middle of this story, my son and I both enjoy it, in part due to the lightness, love, and appreciation in which the saddest part is sandwiched. As a parent of two young children, I have a particular appreciation for picture books that work through challenging topics in such a helpful, hopeful, and accessible way.

Content

Memoirs of a Tortoise is narrated in the first person by the titular tortoise, Oliver. The story is arranged with a new reflection each month for thirteen months. While this means that a significant amount of time is covered in such a short book, the pacing still feels appropriately unhurried. This is an effect of Scillian’s simple sentence structure, paired with the easygoing and mindful musings of the tortoise as he ruminates over the lovely things in his life with his human Ike, from the crunchy sweetness of an apple to the shade offered them by a sycamore tree. In June (the sixth page of the story), Oliver recalls a saying from his mother: “‘The whole world is in a hurry. They miss so much.’ I’m not missing anything,” he asserts. As the story continues, Oliver unexpectedly loses Ike. Through a months-long quest through numerous other gardens and back, which Scillian peppers with bittersweet observations of his changing surroundings, Oliver is able to process his confusion and grief and learns to look back on his time with his human with love and continued appreciation of the simple things in life.

Illustrations

In his illustrations for Memoirs of a Tortoise, Tim Bowers marries a foundation of realism in his acrylic painting with a touch of whimsy. While Ike and the surrounding gardens are illustrated fairly true to life, Oliver embodies immense personality in the images, matching the anthropomorphic narration that allows him the seemingly human sentiments of joy, grief, and a longing for “forever.” While some scenes are presented in a straightforward landscape, others offer a variety of viewpoints: through a forest of hibiscus flowers or over the rim of a plastic baby pool, for example. This keeps the illustrations themselves engaging for readers as they navigate the simple but sweet messaging of the story.

Scillian, D. (2020). Memoirs of a tortoise (T. Bowers, Illus.). Sleeping Bear Press.

Look by Gabi Snyder, illustrated by Samantha Cotterill

Look

By Gabi Snyder, ill. Samantha Cotterill

Texas 2x2 Award

Ages 4+, grades PK+

In Look, a parent and child meander through an autumn day, from breakfast to a market trip, a walk through town and back home. As they go, the child and reader are encouraged to “look.” to tune into their surroundings by sight and find a sense of mindfulness by identifying patterns.

Justification

This book’s layered illustrations drew me in, along with its themes of mindfulness. I am often turned off by the simplicity of some concept books, perhaps to the deficit of my preschooler. While Look provides persistent guidance and practice in pattern recognition, it also offers so much more with text in verse, an engaging visual narrative, and mindfulness practices made approachable for even the youngest audience.

Content

Gabi Snyder’s text is sweet and lyrical. The first page sets the tone for the duality of this book, introducing the idea of pattern recognition, along with the idea that the world can feel big and overwhelming to the intended audience of the book– preschoolers through early elementary readers. She begins: “We are in this VAST world. / And the world is all around– / filled with colors and shapes and sizes./ It can be a lot to take in.” With a down-to-earth charm, Snyder’s text guides readers to slow down and pay attention to their surroundings, finding patterns in unexpected places. She also gently acknowledges how the big world can be confusing and feel like too much, and uses pattern recognition as a grounding tool to turn to in those times.

Illustrations

While Snyder’s text provides the concepts, Samantha Cotterill’s stratified illustrations offer the narrative of parent and child as they move through their day and run errands, find patterns, and appreciate their surroundings. There is so much to find in her busy, vibrant scenes that something new can be found on every read through– I can vouch for this as it became my two-year-old’s favorite for a solid two weeks. Cotterill’s works showcases not only a variety of environmental patterns, but also scenes of shared joy and warmth between the two main characters, culminating in a final nighttime vignette accompanying the comforting closing text, “And the words / I love you. / I love you. / I love you – / a pattern of love, / consistent and sure.”

Snyder, G. (2024). Look, (S. Cotterill, Illus.). Simon & Schuster.

The Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley

 

The Firekeeper’s Daughter

By Angeline Boulley
Walter Award Winner
Ages 14+, grades 9+

Summary

Daunis Fontaine is fresh out of high school and enjoying her last summer before jumping into the university-to-med-school pipeline. Hers hasn’t been an easy road: she’s a biracial anishinaabekwe-- half-Ojibwe woman-- and though she identifies with her native roots and family, she remains an unregistered tribal member due to the scandal surrounding her birth and her father’s death a few years later. More recently her maternal uncle died under mysterious circumstances and her grandmother had a stroke, leaving her single mother the fragile care-taker of a family legacy. These circumstances already have Daunis conflicted about leaving when she meets Jamie, the charming new recruit for her brother’s hockey team. However, deaths begin to pile up around her and she learns there is more to Jamie than she bargained for. Daunis is recruited to help expose a new ring of corruption and drug manufacturing within her community, and in doing so may clarify the circumstance of her uncle’s death. But the opportunity comes with a level of risk and secrecy that Daunis isn’t sure she can navigate within the bounds of her own ethics and commitment to her community.

Justification

I was initially drawn to this book by its breathtaking cover art by Ojibwe artist Moses Lunham. It beautifully reflects Daunis’ internal struggle with her biracial identity through the mirrored face of a native woman, surrounded by indigenous design. The summary called to mind another much older work of Native American YA literature, Monkey Beach, that I enjoyed immensely both for its representation of a culture I am largely unfamiliar with, and for the themes of mysticism therein. Similar themes exist within The Firekeeper’s Daughter, however, they are presented alongside stronger themes of tradition, community, and belonging, as well as darker themes of racism, drug use and addiction, rape, and death. This makes for a more complex, albeit sometimes harder to believe, story than I remember in Monkey Beach, but one that nonetheless offers an engaging and suspenseful narrative within a setting grounded in truth as Angeline Boulley draws on her own Ojibwe upbringing in the story’s site of Sault St. Marie, Michigan.

Response

From the get-go, I appreciated the character of Daunis - she is brilliant-minded and strong (she is described as nearly six feet tall and athletically built), while also showing all the social uncertainties and occasional lapses of logic and judgement appropriate of an 18-year-old in a time of transition. The dialogue feels natural, and shifts appropriately based on the relationship between each set of characters. It is full of dialectical patterns and cultural quirks that Boulley gets to explore from both the Ojibwe and non-indigenous perspectives, as Daunis explores and embraces both parts of herself. I also found it impossible to not relish in the vivid descriptions of Ojibwe culture. The clothing, prayers, music, food, and traditional beliefs presented in the story are described beautifully, conveying a consistent sense of deep meaning and sacredness. Finally, I love that it all tied together into an overarching theme of multigenerational wisdom, support, and belonging alongside that of forging one’s own path in truth.

Boulley, A. (2021). The Firekeeper’s daughter. Henry Holt.