Before Morning

Before Morning

Picture book
If you live or grew up in a northern state like Maine, I bet at
least once you went to bed hoping to wake up in the morning to a snow
day. Maybe you sent up prayers or wishes. Maybe you feared talking
about the object of your desire for fear of jinxing it. If it's
predicted it won't happen. Maybe you followed a ritual like my
favorite, wearing your pajamas inside out.
If any of the above applies to you, you are going to find Joyce
Sidman's Before Morning totally enchanting.
Commuters and children head homeward. A youngster looks
longingly into a bakery window before being pulled away. Dinner is
eaten, kids tucked into bed. An airline pilot mom leaves her
slumbering family to go out into the darkness.
So far the book has been wordless. In the next pages sparse but
eloquent verses pair up with breathtaking scratchboard art
illustrations to create an aura of magic and enchantment. A vee of
birds wings across a two page spread as windborn leaves swirl and
elaborate snowflakes descend. "let the sky fill with flurry and
flight."
"How powerful are words? Can they make things happen? Stop
them from happening? Can they protect us? Comfort us? Enchant us?
This book is written in the form of an invocation--a poem that invites
something to happen, often asking for help or support. Humans have
been using invocations for thousands of years, to sooth the body and
strengthen the soul. Do they work? Maybe. Maybe speaking something
out loud is the first step toward making it happen."
[Reviewer's note: let's hope that applies to graduate school!]
Words and pictures cry out for a suspension of the mundane. The
daughter tries to hide her mother's pilot hat. The mom and a
colleague gaze out an airport window as the text says, "let urgent
plans flounder," On the next spread the yellow plows look very much
not up to the task of clearing the precip: "let pathways be hidden
from sight."
I got the feeling that the mom wanted this as much as the
child. You see her flagging down a ride home, climbing her snow
covered steps, and hugging her daughter. Their day will include
sledding and going to that bakery for treats that will go well with
hot cocoa.
The illustrations are not only enchanting and magical, but
highly intimate. Studying them is a real treat. Cats, dogs, and
other creatures abound. Squirrels are captured in mid leap. You can
tell the pigeons are bobbing and strutting. Personal items like a
menorah are seen through windows. The daughter's room features a
globe, a model plane, and a book about Amelia Earhart.
I hold very fond memories of my childhood snow days and my
children's snow days. Now that they've moved out, snow days are still
enchanting but a tad lonely. Maybe I can sleep over at Liv's or Kat's
or have a friend over some night when a blizzard is bearing down on
Penobscot County. What fun it will be to sleep in inside out pajamas,
wake up to joyous excitement, and make everyone snow day pancakes!
On a personal note, what a perfect day to post this review! Last
night it snowed. Maine looks like a picture postcard. The lace
trimmed trees are especially lovely. Eugene worked all night. When
he got home he took me to Dennys for breakfast. I had cranberry
pancakes with orange sauce, eggs, fried potatoes, sausage, and a mango
smoothie. Now that I'm back in school I'm a big fan of snow days.
When I get to grad school I know I'll need them.
And speaking of grad school the jury is still out.
A great big shout out to Eugene and his colleagues who clear the snow
to make driving safe and to my son, Adam, and his EMT and firefighter
who save lives in all kinds of weather.
jules hathaway


Sent from my iPod