Translating Without Words

An average picture book comes in at around 500 words.  And we all know a picture is worth a thousand words.  So what does that say about a wordless picture book?  And for our purposes here can we consider a book without text to be translated?

From the beginning, I have steadfastly lobbied for the inclusion of wordless picture books into this project.  To back me up, I consulted my old friend Noah Webster who offers up the following:

Translate

1a: to turn into one's own or another language

Ah that Noah, he never lets me down!  By this definition, not just international wordless books, but ANY wordless books could be considered translations.  The reader of these books is turning the pictures on the page into their own language – translation!  More so, the reader is not just turning it into their own language, but their own story.  You could “read” a wordless picture book repeatedly and not ever tell the story exactly the same way twice.

From an educational standpoint, there are endless opportunities to use this type of book with any reader, at any age with varying different language skill levels.  When it comes to younger readers it can be an opportunity to build their vocabulary.  A study by professors Sandra Gilliam, Ph. D. and Lisa Boyce, Ph. D. from the Emma Eccles Jones College of Education and Human Services at Utah State University showed that mothers used more complex language when sharing a wordless book with their children than they did when they made comments while reading a book with words.  Older readers, as the website Playful Learning notes, learn how to think more deeply and critically about plot elements, the interaction among characters, cause and effect, the tone of the story, and the intended theme.

It wasn’t until an assignment a few years ago in my Children’s Literature lecture that I fell in love with wordless picture books.  We were assigned to write an analysis of any picture book that had been awarded the Caldecott Medal or a Caldecott Honor.  One of my favorites, The Three Pigs by David Wiesner, was off the table because we had read it in class.  Undeterred, I decided to check out one of his wordless titles, Tuesday.  On a whim, I sat down with both my kids separately and asked them to tell me the story.  I was floored by how different their versions were from each other and mine as well.  One particular two-page spread still sticks out in my memory:

Are the frogs chasing the dog?  Is the dog afraid?  Are they playing together?  Is the dog leading the frogs someplace?  The dog only has one paw on the ground, is he learning to fly with the frogs?  Are the frogs trying to capture the dog?

I could go on, but you get the point.  I was fascinated by how each person could read and tell the story differently based on their perceptions of what was on the page.  Further, how that could change depending on what the reader was noting during that reading of the story, what drew them in at that particular moment, intrigued me. 

When I began this particular project, I began to think more about how images, color, line, shape, texture, shading, size – all those pieces that go into creating an illustration – change not only reader to reader but culture to culture as well.  I found this fascinating article from the Huffington Post about color meanings in different cultures.  For example, an illustrator in America may use yellow as a bright and cherry accent but when viewed in France it may be associated with betrayal as dating back to the 10^th century, the doors of traitors in France were painted yellow.  Or what about orange?  It is the national color in The Netherlands, associated with wealth and the royal family.  But in Egypt, it’s often associated with mourning and in Columbia, it represents sexuality and fertility.

Shape is another illustrative aspect that is often tied to cultural influence. Not only in what they look like and represent but how they’re formed. For example, to most Americans, an octagon is often a cue for “stop” especially when it is associated with the color red, as we see such signs every day on the roads. But that would not be familiar to someone in Japan, which uses an inverted solid red triangle, or Zimbabwe, which uses a disc bearing a black cross to signify “stop.”

I mention all of this because it will be something to be mindful of over the next few days as we examine wordless picture books from around the globe.  It is very likely that readers from different cultures may miss the intended meaning behind certain choices the illustrator made.  But that’s OK!  In fact, that’s one of the reasons that I most wanted to include these books.  Like many of the translated books we’ve covered so far, there is still that “opacity of other cultures” in these books.  Some of them still may seem “strange” or different from what we as American readers are used to.  But with these, we aren’t held to the text on the page to convey the story.  We shape our own; we translate the images into our own story, making it as “strange” as we want it to be.

As a reminder, here’s how I originally introduced this category when we started:

“While it may seem like an odd choice, after reading so many books I felt very strongly about including the “Wordless” category.  The more books I read, the more I realized just how different this project was because it specifically analyzes picture books.  Pictures are an entire language of their own!  I have developed an entirely new respect for the complexity of picture books through this project.  While the words themselves they contain are translated from one language to another, the pictures remain the same but the way they are “read” by an audience does translate them in my opinion.  Subtle details, colors, lines, and choice of perspective view can be translated differently by a reader of the original book as opposed to how they are viewed by someone from a different place and culture.  When pictures speak a thousand words what language are in they in?”

In a perfect world, or perhaps when I have more time to tumble down this particular rabbit hole, I think it would be fascinating to find out how young readers from different cultures “read” any of the books that we’re going to spend the next few posts looking at.  How does a reader from the source country tell the story?  What is important to them?  What about a reader from another country?  What aspect of the stories are similar and what are different?  Do they give different levels of importance to different aspects of the story?  Do they notice different themes?  As I noted in my story above, even my own two children have vastly different interpretations of just one image from Wiesner’s book – can you imagine the range we may see worldwide?  Again, just some things to consider over the next few days.

While I’d love to spend days and day diving into these illustrated gems, I decided to limit this category to only three posts.  On Friday we’re going to look at two books (both of which are series!) that follow a style that is reminiscent of a comic book for younger readers.  Then on Tuesday, we’re going to focus on three books that bring in an element of play and imagination.  But because I love this style so much I wanted to share a few others that I found here briefly to wrap up today’s post.  Enjoy these and then I’ll see you back here on Friday!

Fox’s Garden

By: Princesse CamCam (aka Camille Garoche)

For more information, I suggest checking out this review from the website Brain Pickings in which Maria Popova discusses the story and illustrative techniques Garoche uses.  She even likens it to another book we covered here, My Fathers Arms Are A Boat, illustrated by Øyvind Torseter.

The Bear’s Song

By: Benjamin Chaud

I love this book by French author/Illustrator Benjamin Chaud which reminds me of an animal “Where’s Waldo?” with the bear cub racing after a bee through the forest, city and an opera house.  Chaud followed up with two more similar wordless titles about the little cub, Bear’s Sea Escape, and Bear’s Surprise.  This interview from Picture Book Makers with Chaud is incredibly insightful as is this one with Betsy Bird from School Library Journal about all of Chaud’s work, including a few with text as well.

The Surprise

By: Sylvia Van Ommen

Remember a few weeks ago when we talked about Jelly Beans?  This is a wordless title from Dutch author Sylvia Van Ommen.  The story made me smile, so I don’t want to give it away, but you can check out a full review from Publisher’s Weekly if you don’t mind the ending being spoiled.   If you liked Jelly Beans this is a fun comparison.  The book is in full color, unlike the black and white line drawings we saw before, but the strong message of friendship still resonates.

The Tree House

By: Marije Tolman and Ronald Tolman:

Hailing from the Netherlands, father and daughter writing team Ronald Tolman and Marije Tolman won the 2010 BolognaRagazzi Award for the most beautiful picture book in the world with The Tree House.  The followed it up a few years later with another wordless title The Island.  Both of these are what I would consider “thinking” books.  The book is wide open, even more so than the others I’ve mentioned here, to imagination and interpretation.  For more information, I suggest checking out this review by one of my favorite websites, Children’s Book-A-Day Almanac or this one from Women Write About Comics.

Pondering Poop

When I first began organizing my materials, plotting out categories and sifting out books to highlight over the summer, I knew for certain I’d have a post on poop. That’s right, poop. Mostly because I was baffled by the number of translated titles that I came across featuring excrement. It became a running gag around my house that even internationally “shit sells.”

I had every intention of writing a silly little tongue in cheek blog highlighting some of the titles and speculating why exactly so many of the books I found featured feces. For every beautifully illustrated, thought-provoking, funny, whimsical, innovative book I would come across I couldn’t rationalize the myriad of titles that focused on bodily functions that actually saw better overall sales than an average translated title. Were they funny? Absolutely. Would kids love them? They’re among my kids favorites and the ones they most request to share with their friends. Could they possibly serve an educational purpose? Yes, at least some of them. And I’d venture to say they’d be better received than most textbook lessons.

I’ve been looking forward to writing this one. After all that death, devastation, and destruction from a few weeks ago and the tricky quagmire of “lost in translation” looming, I’d settled it square in the middle as a bit of light-hearted fun for all of you and a bit of a breather for me. “Everybody Poops” as Japanese author Taro Gomi first wrote in 1977. (Yes, it’s a translated title!) And if we write what we know, well I suppose that makes me just as capable as anyone else to discuss defecation in picture book format.

So, like usual, I dove in a little deeper to the titles I had picked to decide how I wanted to weave my post together. Normally this is my favorite part because I often come across insight about an author/illustrator, the culture, the language it was written in, reviews, commentary, and other connections I hadn’t previously considered. But somewhere along the way this time, the poop stopped me up. (I’m sorry, I honestly couldn’t help myself. I’ve been mentally drafting that line for days!)

Joking aside, I really did get stuck. Three of the books that I intended to include turned up oddities. They are by no means the first books to do so, and I’ve discussed or at least noted some of those problems in previous posts. But three all in one category? It really bothered me. In fact, I knew my easy breezy poop pun-filled post was out the window. This was going to take some digging and some deeper thinking.

Well, crap.

All of this started with a long journey. The Long Journey of Mr. Poop, that is. Or if you prefer, El Gran Viaje del Señor Caca, as I learned from this dual language title. Back when I was researching the intro for my controversy category I came across this little gem and made it my mission to track it down (A huge thank you to Kathy for borrowing Oakland University’s copy for me!). 

But other than reading through it a few times (to the delight of my twosome) I hadn’t had much time to consider the “why” behind my decision to include it here. I was thrown a bit of a curve ball when I realized that even though the book is dual language English/Spanish the author, Angèle Delaunois and the illustrator Marie Lafrance are French Canadian. My sleuthing skills uncovered that the book was originally published in French, by Canadian publisher Les 400 Coups back in 2003. My question became then what language was translator Daniel Zolinsky being credited for on the title page of the 2007 bilingual edition published in the US by Cinco Puntos Press?

At that point, I’m not sure why all of this bothered me so much, but I needed answers. I sent an email off to the publisher, briefly explaining my project and asking for clarification. A few days later, I received a message explaining that Zolinsky had translated the French from English, but the Spanish translation had actually been purchased from a publisher in Venezuela. Huh? The kind soul at Cinco Puntos Press had also included a portion of the contract with LOS LIBROS DE "EL NACIONAL" which stated that Cinco Puntos Press was purchasing the Spanish rights for the United States of America and Canada of the original French text. It turns out Los Libros De “El Nacional” had published a Spanish language version of the French text in Venezuela in 2004 and this is the Spanish text that then appears in the bilingual edition from Cinco Puntos Press.

Make sense? Don’t worry, I struggled to wrap my brain around it, too. Let me sum it up for you – Mr. Poop, Señor Caca, Monsieur Caca – whatever you want to call him, he’s been on one long journey. A global one it seems. The whole thing didn’t sit quite right still - if Zolinsky was credited, why not the translator from Venezuela? Why no mention anywhere that the book was originally in French? But did it matter? I wasn’t sure yet so I set it aside to tackle some more turds.

Author Stephanie Blake, who was born in the US but now lives in France, wrote Caca boudin in 2002. I had stumbled across it as Poop-di-Doop! a 2015 publication by North South books. 

This isn’t the first book that I’ve come across with such a large gap between publication in the source language and publication of the translation, so that wasn’t what bothered me. What I struggled with was when I found Poo Bum, a 2011 edition by the New Zealand publisher Gecko Press. 

If there was already an English translation (with an actual person, Linda Burgess, being credited) why wouldn’t North South just purchase the rights to distribute that text here in the US? Why translate a completely different version without giving any credit to a specific translator? Is English in New Zealand so different that it requires a completely different text? What did that say about the accuracy of either version? Was one closer to the original? After taking a closer look at some of the information about different editions on goodreads why was there such a large discrepancy in the numbers of pages that comprised the book? If Stephanie Blake spent a good portion of her life speaking English, why didn’t she handle the translation? Wouldn’t she, as the author, be the best person to know what she had meant when she had written the French text? And again, did it really matter?

You can see how problematic poop was becoming for me. I thought perhaps it was time to pass to some gas…

Farley Farts, like Poop-di-Doop!, would probably not be titles I would choose to share here if I wasn’t dabbling in dung. They’re not bad books by any means, they’re just probably not what I would hold up as a shining beacon of the quality literature from around the world that deserves to find its way to American readers. I’m not the only one, as Publisher’s Weekly said “there's not a lot of substance to the airy plot.” about Farley. 

In fact, my intention was to mention it in a list of other books at the end of the post that fell into the category that if poop was your thing, you may want to check out. But when I started looking for links to the book by Brite Muller I hit a major wall. Check out amazon’s listing of the title here and see if you can figure it out.

No? How about this one at Barnes and Nobel? Or what about Simon & Schuster’s listing? Still nothing? Go back and check out that link from Publisher’s Weekly – notice anything different? Like the AUTHOR????

(Kristi’s interesting side note – I point out the Simon & Schuster listing specifically because they are the actual distributors of North South books. How could they have it wrong?)

How in the world had all those major sellers missed the very obvious cover page sporting the name of Brite Muller who authored AND illustrated the book? And who the heck was Bruno Hachler? I combed the text again as a few times I’ve come across a listing where the translator of the text has been credited as the author (Equally problematic). Nope, no such luck as there is no named translator in the 2003 publication by North South. The jacket flap of the book only contained information about Muller, noting a few other titles she had served as only the illustrator. On a hunch, I checked out one of them, Snow Ravens, which was written by (have you guessed?) Bruno Hachler. I scanned the list of books on his website to confirm; no Farley. I headed back to Muller’s and found Farley. What the heck?

Of the three oddities, this one disturbed me the most. This isn’t some small typo or oversight – this is giving credit for the writing of a text to the completely wrong person when it is blatantly obvious if you even look at the cover of the book. How is it that no one has caught this? I could see if one place had it listed wrong but we’re talking about the distributer of the book not even having the correct author listed! Why hasn’t North South done anything about this? If this was an American author would such a blatant mistake gone unnoticed? My writer’s soul ached for Muller, but my practical brain countered with ‘she’s probably never going to know, so does it really matter?’

Frustrated with how backed up my research was getting with all this poop I scheduled some time to meet with my advisor to conference on caca. I babbled incoherently about the three titles and my roadblocks. She listened patiently as always and explained a little about translation rights which answered some of my questions. (Remember, I’m still learning, too!) I did a little more research and it seems that a publisher can buy “world English rights,” which means they have means they have sole permission to print and distribute their English language translation anywhere in the world. Sometimes though, the rights can be divided into regions or even countries, which would explain the Gecko Press and North South variations of the Blake book. It would also explain (at least I’m assuming) how Mr. Poop’s journey went down. My assumption is that Los Libros De “El Nacional” purchased the world Spanish language rights from Les 400 Coup and then Cinco Puntos Press was given the regional rights to use that Spanish translation for their bilingual edition in the US and Canada only.

I can even speculate that the mislabeled author on Farley is probably what my wise husband referred to as a propagation error. When the information was entered incorrectly in one place (my guess is we may be able to point a finger at Simon & Schuster) other distributors ran with it. It’s an explanation of how it got started but it doesn’t explain why it hasn’t been corrected, which was the bigger source of my frustration. Why in all of these books and in many of the others I’ve come across isn’t credit being given where credit is due? Not just in authorship as in Muller’s case, but credit for the translator as well? Aren’t they in some ways another author?

As I continued to discuss all this with my professor, she countered with “OK, so what? Why does it matter?” Oh, those sneaky educators encouraging critical thinking! This was supposed to be about poop, I wasn’t supposed to have to think! Somewhere though the roadblocks that I had encountered became about more than just a few poop books. They were representative of much of what I’d been finding and my frustrations with the respect given to translated titles as a whole.

There are many philosophical arguments surrounding the nature of authorship and let’s just leave that at “another blog, another day.” I recognize though, that my personal feelings on this are part of the source of my frustrations. I believe the person that puts the words on the page is just as important as the reader that takes them in. I don’t think that an author is separate from the text, I believe they put themselves on the page with the stories they chose to write and the words they use to tell those stories. For me, it comes back to authenticity and accuracy; who is telling the story and are they able to do so in a way that is truthful? Personally, that includes the translator in these books. They are, in a way, re-writing these stories for the target audience. No two people are going to do so exactly the same way. We’re going to get back to this a little more when we get to “lost in translation” but the fact that it keeps showing up, again and again, is worth mentioning here.

But what does it mean big picture? What does it say about translated texts as a whole? For me, it just furthers the lack of respect that these titles receive. If I, who has an interest, has to go on such a crusade to track down the origins of Mr. Poop, what does that mean for the average reader? Do they just not care? Are they even aware? Do publishers of translated texts shy away from including the source language, translator and other details to avoid that “strange” label often hung on translated materials? If so, is that OK?

I’m still working through my thoughts and feelings on many of these questions, something that I know will continue over the next few months. Some I have strong opinions about and some questions I know will probably go unanswered until I’m willing to venture further down those specific rabbit holes. It’s worth noting that the issues that I’ve stumbled across are not unique to pun-filled parodies on poo, but it’s interesting that I came across so many at one time. Right now, I can sum it up with a nod to all this poop; “I feel the way that translated texts are being treated is pretty shitty.”

This definitely wasn’t the post I thought I was going to be writing when I started all this – and that’s OK. As promised earlier, I do have a couple other texts to check out if gross-out humor is your thing. In addition to Everybody Poops, which I noted above, Kane Miller produced a series of six Body Science books originally written by three Japanese authors, all translated by Amanda Mayer Stinchecum. My Bean recommends The Gas We Pass: The Story of Farts by Shinta Cho specifically. 

My personal favorite is a German title from author Werner Holzwarth and was illustrated by Wolf Erlbruch who you may remember from Death, Duck and the Tulip. The Story of the Little Mole Who Knew It Was None of His Business, is a far departure from the philosophical Death. I don’t want to give it away, this is a book you have to experience on your own. Fortunately, you’re in luck! As my gift today for wading through all this poo, turn up your speakers and enjoy!

After you’ve been thoroughly entertained, I’ll see you back here on Tuesday when we dive into the next category looking at Wordless picture books. I’ll offer up my thoughts on why they deserve to be recognized as translated texts and we’ll go from there!

Experiencing the World in Book Form

How would you describe what color the wind is to someone who can’t see?

How do you illustrate a trick poem from 17^th century?

How do you say and illustrate, “I am different! Can you find me?” in 16 different languages?

With the help of some translated picture books, of course!

I’m back today with three more titles for our “Outside the Box” category.  In these books, I was most struck by certain illustrative aspects of the book and how it “plays” with the text.  Each of these books took unique approaches to answering the questions I noted above through the use of texture, cut-outs and seek-and-find elements.  These unconventional means make them memorable, but these elements are so much more than gimmick to sell a book.  Each serves a unique purpose and cultural connotation.  They make reading an experience for multiple senses.  Let’s jump into these three titles right away and I’ll elaborate as we go.

 What Color Is The Wind?

By: Anne Herbauts

Translated by: Claudia Zoe Bedrick

If you were reading closely above, you may have noted that I ended the first question about the color of the wind to someone who can’t see. I didn’t specifically say blind because nowhere in the text of this book by French author Anne Herbauts is the term used. (Kristi’s note – the jacket flap states “one day a blind child asks a grown-up” and I did read an interview with Herbauts stating that she was working with a blind child who asked her the question, thus inspiring the book.  But the text of the story never states the “Little Giant” is blind.  He is illustrated with his eyes closed, though). In fact, Herbaut, who won the France’s 2012 Prix Sorcières, children’s literature award for the book, leaves many points of the book’s plot open to the reader’s interpretation. 

The story is of Herbauts’ “Little Giant” wondering what color the wind is. To answer his question, he goes on a walk, interviewing the animals and objects he encounters, asking them “What color is the wind?” Each has a different answer based on their own perspective. For example, the wolf replies “the wind is the dark smell of the forest” while to the bees it is “the color of sunshine.” (My personal favorite is the rain, who “knows nothing.” It stands out among all the other very specific answers.) At the end of his walk he comes upon someone “he senses is enormous” who tells him the wind is “everything at once. This whole book.” The enormous someone then takes the book and thumbs through its pages, allowing the Little Giant to feel the wind and its gentleness.

While all the simple text is beautiful and thought provoking, as the enormous someone suggests, it is the whole book that brings the story to another dimension. This isn’t just a readable book, it’s a touchable book. It begins on the cover, where the braille alphabet letters for the word WIND has been punched into the cover. The tactile reading experience continues through the entire book with cut-out shapes, embossed pages, raised textures, glossy smooth pages and rough textures to give an illusion of the feel of what or who the Little Giant is speaking to. 

  

Herbauts uses textual elements to include references senses beyond sight and touch; answers to the Little Giant’s questions aren’t said they’re murmured, sighed and rumbled, the wolf mentions the ‘dark smell’ of the forest, sugary is used to describe the apple the Little Giant bites into. By combining all of these sensory elements the book transcends the idea of color being directly tied to sight. Whether the Little Giant is blind or not doesn’t truly matter – Herbauts' story gives him other ways to answer his own question from a myriad of different sources. It is the combination of the text, the illustrations and the tactile elements of the book that make the book unique. All of them are special on their own, but together they create an experience for the reader.

 I Saw a Peacock witha Fiery Tail

Source: 17^th Century English poem (Anonymous)

Illustrated by: Ramsingh Urveti

Graphic Design by: Jonathan Yamakami

Before anyone calls me out, I will readily admit that this is not a translated text.  In fact, the actual text comes from an anonymous source, dating back to England in the 17^th century.  But this book was published by Tara Books in 2011 and the work of Gond tribal artist Ramsingh Urveti and Brazilian graphic designer Jonathan Yamakami certainly, at the very least solidifies, its status as an international picture book that deserves recognition here in the United States.

The text is a trick poem, or what Margaret Atwood refers to as a writer’s version of trompe l’oeil.  

Consider the opening lines of the poem:

I saw a peackock with a fiery tail

I saw a blazing comet drop down hail

I saw a cloud with ivy circled around

Here’s the “trick” of the poem, each descriptive clause (ex: with a fiery tail) is written for the subject of the line below (ex: I saw a blazing comet).  If you do the same thing for the next line, you end up with a “I saw a cloud drop down hail.”  The entire poem in this same fashion if the observant reader picks up the trick. 

Playing on this idea, Yamakami came up with a die-cutting technique to create a way to deceive the reader’s eye in relation to the illustrations as well.  Holes are cut into strategic places in the page allowing the reader to “peak” through to the next page.  The holes connect the two lines and break them at the same time.

Fortunately for you, I’ve tracked down a video so you can see this beautiful book in action.  Take a minute and check it out here.

Fun, right?  And unique!  What stood out to me (and why I wanted so much to include it in this post) is that it shows what a trick poem is.  Let’s be honest, even my English major self had to stop and really think about what was the descriptive clause and subject line.  Poetry often gets a bad rap, it feels distant and unapproachable when presented in such stark terminology.  If you described a trick poem that way to a sixth grader then asked them to write their own I have a feeling most of them would feel overwhelmed and lost, defeated before they even try.  But what if you read them the poem in this fashion?  What if you had the ability to show them as Urveti and Yamakami have so succinctly done?

Part of my hope with “outside the box” is that these books present a new way of looking at something.  When I first got my hands on a copy of this book that is exactly how it made me feel.  It made something from four hundred years ago new.  I also appreciated the English text being paired with Urveti’s Gond illustrations.  We’ve come across a few other Gond artists in other books I’ve mentioned.  What fascinated me even more was this interview with Yamakami, in which he explains how the process to create a book that presented both ways the poem could be read without actually printing the poem twice took over two years to create.  Further, and we’ll get back to this with author and illustrator relationships, he did not even work with Urveti during the book’s creation and has yet to hear the illustrator’s reaction to the finalized product.  There are so many things to explore in this book, and before I get too long-winded (another post, another day on this one) let’s take a look at one last book today.

I Am Different!  Can You Find Me?

By: Manjula Padmanabhan

This book as well, in full disclosure, was first published in India.  Technically then, it falls into the international picture book category and is not actually a translated text.  But, it contains translation!  And not just from one language, but from sixteen different languages!

As the first page of the book states “This book celebrates differences.”  Not a unique concept right now, especially with the cry for diversity and true representation of EVERY child in the children’s literature community, but it is the way that Padmanabhan blends text and illustration to represent differences in language makes this an ideal choice for my outside the box category. 

Padmanabhan, who was born in Dehli, and spent her childhood in Sweden, Pakistan and Thailand, has written children’s books, plays and a comic strip, Suki.  (Kristi’s note: the strip started life as Double Talk, was then published under the name Suki, and is now called Sukiyaki in case you are interested in checking it out further.)  The strip found new life in 2016 after a hiatus following its initial run in the 1980’s and 1990’s.  I point all this out because I often find it fascinating to consider all the different mediums authors and illustrators often work in.  Plus, I found her adult-geared comic strip enlightening and strikingly different than this book.  See, even Padmanbhan’s work celebrates differences!

As I mentioned, the book features sixteen languages; English, Hebrew, Hawaiian, Cree, Arabic, Filipino, Gullah, Mandarin, Hindi, Spanish, Nahuatl, Italian, Navajo, Swahili, French and American Sign Language.  Each two-page spread asks the question “Can you find me?” in each of the aforementioned languages with a pronunciation guide underneath.  One page of the spread is the name of the language and an illustration of objects, one of which is different than the others, whether it be in shape, size or color.  Answer the “can you find me?” question, the reader is tasked with finding the different object in each spread.  On the opposite page is an explanatory paragraph on the language itself, featuring facts such as its origins, where it is the official language, in which direction the script is read from and a few words an English speaker may know that actually originated in the featured language.  Some also have additional words the reader can learn in the language, such as the colors of the rainbow in Swahili or how to count to five in Cree.

This book fascinated me. I can honestly say that I was not familiar with a few of the language it highlights.  What I also appreciated was that the illustrated differences that go with each language are not stereotypical representations of those languages and the cultures they are associated with – they’re really just everyday objects.  In that way Padmanabhan celebrates the language itself while adding an interactive feature to the book.

I also want to point out that this book is a Global Fund for Children Book. According to their website, as of 2016, The Global Fund for Children has awarded over $34 million in grants to more than 600 grassroots organizations in 78 countries. Further, the Global Fund for Children Books has produced more than 30 award-winning titles for children from birth to age 12. Each book exposes children to diverse cultures around the world and in their own community. In this way, the books teach children to respect differences as well as appreciate the values and ties that bind us together as human beings. Global Fund for Children books integrate children’s perspectives, present positive images of children, and help to raise a new generation of productive, caring citizens of a global society. You can find more Global Fund for Children Books at their store here. Also, when I was perusing their website, I found their wonderful resource list to help teach children about diversity, tolerance and global citizenship.


Hopefully I’ve been able to show that these books are not just about their illustrative gimmicks. They are unique in the way they blend those illustrative tactics with textual elements to create an entire experience for the reader. Also, I found this information that was announced in Publisher’s Weekly a few weeks ago about Macmillan Children's Publishing Group new yet unnamed imprint extremely relevant to the type of books I’m including here. Macmillan stated the imprint would be "centered around imaginative and innovative books that inspire kids to explore, learn, and have fun while helping them develop the skills to do so." They went on further to say “our vision as an imprint is interactive books, playful books, substantive, useful, and informative books in formats kids have never seen before.” Seems to me like they may consider looking at some of these international and translated texts that are already doing that!

Here’s to hoping your day is filled with treats and not tricks, readers. We’re going to finish off the Outside the Box category with one “stinky” post I guarantee you won’t want to miss.

Seek these "Outside the box" texts!

As a kid, I would re-read Mercer Mayer’s Little Critter books just so I could find the hidden cricket, grasshopper, mouse or spider on each page. I loved Where’s Waldo. I probably read every Choose Your Own Adventure book our library had. Twice.

What do all those books have in common? They’re interactive! Like we discussed with Press Here there is something appealing in a book that takes the reader to “make it work.” There is something more to the story than the words and art on the page, it takes the reader by action, choice or imagination to bring it to life.

Today I’ve got three translated texts that are similarly interactive and engaging for a reader. Here’s the conundrum, though. If I had to make a guess, I’d say there’s a chance that most would be somewhat familiar with the series I mentioned above. But I’d be shocked if more than twenty percent of you were equally as familiar with any, let alone all, of the books I’m including in today’s post. Don’t worry, this time last year I would have been firmly in that “never heard of” camp for all of them.

The question then is why? I’ll be perfectly honest upfront and say that I don’t have a solid answer to that question but through my research, I’d be willing to hazard a few guesses. But first, let’s take a closer look at the three I’m including and see if I can convince you they’re just as worthy of readerly love as those others.

100 Hungry Monkeys

By: Masayuki Sebe

Translated by: Kids Can Press (Publisher)

This is the third in a “100” series from Japanese author Masayuki Sebe that combines a story with seek and find elements. It’s lunchtime for 100 monkeys and they’re all out of food. They all set out to find food and end up on a day-long adventure of food, play and escape from a monster! The story is simple, only a sentence or two per page to lead the reader on. But I think that simplicity is key because it offers an explanation of what is on the page but isn’t pushing the reader to flip to the next page in anticipation of what’s next. Instead the reader has plenty of time to examine everything else on the page without losing the storyline. And there is so much to look at!

Each two-page spread features all 100 monkeys. (Trust me, my kids have counted.) Most pages also have a few additional hidden objects the reader can find. Many monkeys also speak, asking the reader to find other monkeys or objects they describe on the page. If that’s not enough, there’s also a short list in the back of the book that notes additional characters that can be found on specified pages. There are even hidden objects made up of hidden objects – can you spot it?

The seek and find aspect is much more manageable for a younger reader than Where’s Waldo? or some other I Spy books. It’s bright, colorful and silly; some of the monkeys wear clothes, drive vehicles and behave in other un-monkeylike manners. Even right now as I have the book sitting out beside me I keep getting distracted, wanting to find some of the objects the monkeys are asking about. (And I’m definitely not the target audience for this book!) I haven’t had the opportunity to read either of Sebe’s two other 100 books, but from what I’ve seen they are similar in nature. If you have “seek and find” lovers in your house, this may be a series to consider checking out!

New York in Pyjamarama

By: Michael Leblond

Illustrated by: Frederique Bertrand

Translated by: Unknown (Published by Phoenix Yard Books in the UK)

I’m not sure I remember how I came across this specific book. I do know that there was no way that I was going to let little things like the fact that no library in my state contains a copy or the fact that it was never published in the United States keep me from getting my hands on it after I read the description that said “sliding a striped acetate rectangle over the images makes them move astonishingly - wheels spin, spirals whirl, and traffic, as seen from the air, moves through the streets.”

Um, what? A book where I can make the illustrations actually move?? Yes! Fortunately for you (and me because I couldn’t possibly do it justice in pictures and my own words) there is a great video that shows just how the book comes to life! Before I go any further, go watch it here.

Isn’t that so cool?!?!?! I did a little more research and the effect is created by Ombro-Cinema, a type of barrier grid animation. The lines embedded in the design create an illusion of movement when contrasted against the lines of the acetate making it appear that the illustrations are animated when you pass the acetate over the top. 

The use of primary colors with the black and white necessary to make the animation work pop off the pages. Early on in the book the reader changes the orientation from horizontal page flips to vertical, another interactive feature of the text that makes it feel different and unique. Many of the lines rhyme, where similar to 100 Hungry Monkeys then, the text seems to support the illustrations as opposed to being the driving force behind the story. If you like this one, there are other in the books in the series. Interestingly, I found multiple sources that stated this was the fastest-selling picture book in its source country of France in 2011. Did you know about it before now?

 Welcome to Mamoko

By: Aleksandra and Daniel Mizielinski

Translated by: Unknown (Published by Big Picture Press 2013)

In a few weeks we’ll be taking a closer look at wordless picture books (and yes, we can debate then if they can technically be considered translated) and I strongly considered holding off and sharing this title then. From the first moment I got my hands on it, though, there was no doubt that it was going to be one I had to include.

First published in Poland in 2010 by husband and wife team Aleksandra and Daniel Mizielinski, this is a story that can be “read” 100 different times in 100 different ways. You open the book to this:

It’s a full two-page spread, welcoming the reader to the world of Mamoko and introducing all the characters that appear in the story. Each character then has a question the reader is asked to consider (For example, Lionel Mane knows that one lion’s junk is another lion’s treasure. What does he make with his hidden gems?) The instructions on the page are to “use your eyes and follow the adventures of each of these characters in every scene.” There is also mention to search for some additional items, to note if any items seem out of place and think why.

I’ll admit I was a little overwhelmed the first time I looked at all the characters. How was I going to keep them straight? How was I going to remember what Lionel Mane was making with hidden gems as opposed to what fell out of Boris Greenshell’s bag? Fortunately, I quickly figured out that I didn’t have to! It was way more fun to pick just one character at a time and follow their story through the whole book and then start all over again at the beginning with another.

Additionally, it was up to me as the “reader” to determine what happened between the pages as well. What was the rest of their story? Could they perhaps have encountered another character between the pages? Did that change where they went from one scene to another? How did the characters that did interact in some way on the page change because of who they encountered?

The possibilities, as you can see, are endless! It was fun to not only find the characters from page to page but also to tell their story in whatever way I as a reader chose along the way. This was a book I could easily see an imaginative child interacting with for quite some time and I saw a lot of potential for its use in a classroom setting as well. In an ideal world where I had lots of time, I’d love to pick one character, give the book to a handful of kids and ask them to either tell me or write the story of that character and then compare the differences and similarities of each child’s story. One step further, if I could speak Polish (other than pierogi and paczki, which my dad and husband will now be begging to make soon after they read this post) I would love to hear a character’s story from a child in the country the book originated from and be able to compare it to an American child’s version of that same character. I wonder if there are any cultural contexts in the images that a “reader” in the source language would pick up that would not translate in other cultures. It’s a rabbit hole, I know. So another blog, another day…

If this book interests you, there are two other Mamoko titles to check out, The World of Mamoko in the Year 3000 and The World of Mamoko in the Time of Dragons . Both books feature the same set of characters off on new adventures for readers to imagine. Other similar offerings from the Mizielińska’s include Maps and H.O.U.S.E.

Hopefully I’ve at least piqued some interest in checking out any of these books. They are captivating and engaging and I’ve already noted they are similar to some beloved American books. So then we’re back to that question of why. Why are those books so popular and these fall under most reader’s radars, if they even show up at all? Why is it that a book that was the top-selling picture book in its source country not even available on the US market? Why, even when presented with them, do readers still tend to favor the American titles?

First, to be fair, the American books that I mentioned at the beginning of this post have been around longer than any of the ones I highlighted. Perhaps they are better established and these too, over time will earn the respect and admiration they deserve. While my optimistic self would love to hop on that bandwagon, I, unfortunately, don’t think that’s the case.

At the same “Where the Wild Books Are” conference I mentioned in Tuesday’s post, Betsy Bird, youth materials specialist at the New York Public Library (and one of my favorite children’s lit bloggers!), probably summed it up best; “We just don’t care.” That hurts my heart to write, but I think she’s onto something. There is at least a strong indifference related to actively seeking out international picture books. Bird went on to suggest that what is needed to overcome the indifference is two-part: “We need to overcome this gross distrust of illustrations and topics that are literally foreign to our picture bookshelves, and we all need to work on stamping out our own prejudices.” I also think it’s worth noting that she pointed out that a lot of the indifference stems not from child readers, but the adult gatekeepers, saying “On the picture book side, kids love [works] that don’t originate here—if we let them.”

That being the case, I’m going to make a plea to all you gatekeepers out there that are reading this. And it’s a plea I’ve been making since the beginning of this project and will continue to do so. If any of these books appeal to you in any way, or if there is a child in your life that you think may enjoy them – go buy it. Or go borrow it from a library. Remember, this is coming from the girl who a year ago had at best a small handful of translated titles on her own shelves. Consider this a challenge to step outside your own box.

The creativity continues here on Tuesday with my next set of “Outside the Box” books. I’m off to go make sure there really are 100 monkeys on every page, but I’ll see you then!

Outside the Box Where Languages 'Dual'

Speaking at the “Where the Wild Books Are” event in April of 2015, Giorgia Grilli, professor of children’s literature and founder of the Center of Research in Children’s Literature at Bologna University said “Often, the weird or off-putting make for truly great art. Mystery [and] strangeness lead to creativity.” The event was a celebration of international picture books, especially those that are usually deemed “unconventional” and sought to determine why they encounter resistance in the United States. It’s this type of books that we’ll be celebrating the next few days in my next category; “Outside the Box.”

(Kristi’s Note: There is a great write-up about the entire event, its participants, and findings from Publisher’s Weekly here if you’re interested.)

As a reminder, here were my original thoughts on the category:

“There was no end to the creativity I found in the books that I examined, but I felt that some deserved a category all their own for being “outside the box” of what you normally expect to find in picture books. These were the books that I came across that I wanted to share with others simply because they were different, the fact that they were translated and came from around the world was just a bonus! This category is my answer to the critics of translated literature saying that it is “weird” or that there’s really nothing special about it that we don’t already have here. The uniqueness of these books is what earned them a spot in this category.”

I know that in my introduction post for each category I tend to make an argument for why the category is unique, why we need it, things to be aware of, etc. But I’m going to go outside my own box here this time for three reasons: 1) I have no doubt that each of these books will speak for themselves in that capacity 2) I’ve come across a different style of book that I want to share here and this seems like an ideal place to do so and 3) because I am a creature of habit and throwing a wrench in my long-planned post list is a way for me to step outside my own box 😊

While not strictly translated, I wanted to take a closer look at some dual language books that I came across during my research. That isn’t what makes them “outside the box”; what does is that each is from an area of the world that isn’t one of the “big” producers of translated titles otherwise and each approach how they utilize both languages differently.

Minutka The Bilingual Dog

By: Anna Mycek-Wodecki

Minutka, (which means “Little Minute” in Polish) is a bilingual dog who speaks both English and Polish.  Minutka tells all about himself, his life, what he does, sees, how he acts, and even how he dreams (in both English and Polish!)  The top of each page is in English, there is an illustration of Minutka and then the Polish words underneath.  

The straightforward style of the book, featuring both languages on the same page is how I think most tend to think of dual language books.  The author, Anna Mycek-Wodecki, was born and educated in Poland and now spends her time between Warsaw and Chicago, so the authenticity of the language in the original book can be verified.

What stood out to me was that the language wasn’t overly simplistic and was done in everyday vernacular that seemed appropriate.  I specifically noted words such as “snatched, mohawk and sprinkler.”  The illustrations of Minutka are simplistic but effective at showing what Minutka is saying.  (And she’s just so cute!)  There is fun in the story, something to be appreciated as the style often tends to be didactic to “teach” another language.  In fact, Minutka has since been translated! Additional stories about Minutka now pair English with French, Chinese, Italian, and Turkish. 

Diphoofolo

Rhymes from South Africa with English adaptations by Early Learning Resource Unit

Illustrated by: Reviva Shermbrucker

I can’t remember exactly how I stumbled across this title the first time, but if you’ve been following along and noticed how few books from Africa have been translated you can imagine my excitement when I did.  There is only one library in the entire state of Michigan (a University) that even has a copy so I quickly ordered my own to add to my expanding collection.  The book is similar to Minutka in that it features English on one page and then the second language on another.  But this book has 6 other languages!  And instead of a sentence per page, these are traditional rhymes from South Africa, all featuring animals.  (From what I can find diphoofolo is from the sotho language and means animal in English!)

The book features verses in isiZulu, Afrikaans, isiXhosa, Sesotho, Sepedi, and Setswana which are identified on the final page of the book along with an English pronunciation guide for each verse.  

The illustrator, Reviva Shermbrucker, immigrated to South Africa in 1960 and has an extensive resume featuring African artwork for children’s books as well as writing her own work.  While her work wouldn’t be considered translated, as it originates in English, international picture books in any language are reflective of that particular culture and deserve more recognition than they are usually given in the United States.  This book so beautifully celebrates African language, literature, and art that I knew it needed some love via my blog.  I’m happy to lend my copy if you’re in my area and want to check it out or consider adding this one to your own library!

Migrant: The Journey of a Mexican Worker

By: Jose Manuel Mateo

Illustrated by: Javier Martinez Pedro

Translated by: Emmy Smith Ready

“Have you seen this?”  One of the best parts of this project is when someone shares a book with me that was completely off my radar.  My wonderful advisor greeted me with this book just a week or so ago that she had come across on a trip to the library. I fell hard for it in the quick five minutes I had to peruse it.  My own copy is on its way here as I type and I don’t want to do it a disservice so before you read any more from me, this review is full of insight, information, and pictures of the book.  Check it out for full details or I’ll do my best to give a quick synopsis below.

As I said, the reason that I wanted to showcase these books is because of the unique way they offer a dual language text.  The book is presented in the style of a pre-Columbian codex, forms of which originate to the Mayan and Aztec cultures.  There is no central binding in the book, rather it is one large image, folded up vertically accordion style.  

The words of the story appear to the right of the picture and correspond with just that piece of the picture that is visible while reading. But a reader could open the entire book and see the entire illustrated scene from beginning to end. 

In this particular book, the text appears on one side of the paper in Spanish. If you flip the entire book over the full-length illustration appears on the other side, can be flipped accordion style with the English text.

If I had found this book before, since it is technically a translation, I would have loved to include it in my controversy category under human rights.  There is a beautiful endnote from the author and illustrator that I’m going to leave right here, as some food for thought:

“We wish to tell and to question this collective story that makes children defenseless and almost nonexistent to their own country and to the new one where they hope to find work. When they migrate, the children cannot themselves prove their name, nor can they request documents to do so; many times they cannot even manage to find out what their real age is. For this reason we have created this book: to demand these children’s right to exist.”

Amber Alien’s Pet Pursuit

By: Rita Antoinette Borg

Illustrated by: Davida Flores

“Do you have any Maltese language books?”  So began what I consider to be the coolest thing to happen to me since starting this project.  I had posted a link to my new blog on the Facebook page for the group KidLit411 and received this question.  I was quick to respond “No, but if you have any suggestions I’d love to have them.”  Not only did I know I didn’t have any books translated from Maltese, my very unworldly self had to first verify that I was sure I knew where Malta was.  You can imagine my delight when I then learned that I had been contacted by Rita Antoinette Borg, an author from Malta who has written and had published a number of dual language English and Maltese books.

Rita and I began corresponding, and I learned that Rita herself introduced the bilingual format on the island for the picture book market in 2000.  In Rita’s books, one half of the book is the English version while the other is in Maltese. There are two front covers and you turn it upside down depending upon which language version you wish to read.  (Check out a full list of Rita’s books here!)

Rita kindly offered to send me a copy of her book Amber Alien’s Pet Pursuit and I am honored and overjoyed to share it here on my blog.  Amber Alien, from the planet of Zweega desperately wants a pet, but it must be the “most special, exotic, perfect, unusual, colorful, and funny pet ever.”  Amber travels to Earth in search of the perfect pet that meets those qualifications but is disappointed when those pets (ranging from a polar bear to a whale!) don’t seem to flourish in Zweega.  Not wanting them to be sad, she returns them each to Earth but continues her search.  She eventually returns home to finds a tiny Zweegan lizard outside her rocket that she names Maxi, who with lots of love and care, eventually grows into the perfect pet for Amber.  The book is separated in the middle by a two-page spread inviting readers to number the animals Amber found on Earth in the correct order she found them.

The story is colorfully illustrated, mixing the exotic nature of Amber’s planet with the familiar animals of Earth.  Young readers will recognize that a number of the animals Amber longs for wouldn’t make the best pets even here on Earth but have probably imagined themselves longing for them as Amber does.  I had barely gotten a chance to read and be excited about its arrival when it zoomed off my shelf to be shared in my second grader’s class.  Not only did they enjoy the book (and let my Bean brag about her mom owning something so unique) but now they too know where Malta is!  The dual language style of the book inspired questions and the class spent time learning about the book’s origins.  This is another one I’m happy to share with anyone interest, or if you too want to be able to brag about having something so unique, copies of any of Rita’s books can be ordered through her website.  My heartfelt thanks to Rita for reaching out and sharing her books with me!

Four books, nine languages, four very different styles – is that “outside the box” enough?  If any of those interested, you won’t want to miss what I’ve got coming on Friday.  If you’re a parent you will be singing my praises because I’m going to be sharing some books that have the potential to keep your kids occupied for hours.  (I know because they did mine!)  For more “outside the box” I’ll see you then!