A story has to include so many things: a setting, a group of characters, a conflict, a sense of movement, an ending, a kind of subtextual "humming." It's no wonder that many picture-book writers handle the challenge by simply pretending it doesn't exist; so many writers churn out plotless sermons instead of stories.
That's what makes "Extra Yarn" special. In very few words, Mac Barnett tells a complete story. Little Annabelle lives in a snow-covered town. One day, she stumbles on a box of yarn. She begins knitting--and, almost immediately, she encounters nastiness. The town bully alludes to "your stupid yarn." And, blithely, Annabelle says, "You're just jealous." (Annabelle is correct.)
A powerful fashionista archduke learns of Annabelle--and he tries to buy the yarn. When she refuses, he just steals the yarn. But, in a foreign kingdom, the yarn-box loses its magical powers; it's just empty. The archduke throws the box into the ocean and curses Annabelle. The curse is impotent; the box finds its way back to the little girl; the knitting resumes.
To me, this seems to be a parable about talent: find the thing you love to do, and rest assured that no one can take your gift from you. But Barnett isn't didactic; there is no explicit meaning, and you can reach and defend any conclusion that suggests itself to you. The other thing I admire is the use of ice floes--with one word on each tiny patch of ice. This is provocative; Barnett seems to be saying, "Why can't *more* books abandon the standard paragraph structure and drop words in weird, semi-random places?"
A classic for a reason.
Comments
Post a Comment