85: Wonderstruck, by Brian Selznick (2011 hardcover)

Those who read Selznicks's The Invention of Hugo Cabret--an illustrated novel describing a young boy's secret life living in a train station--have been eagerly awaiting the release of Wonderstruck. After reading it, I can't see any of these folks being disappointed, and I suspect those who start with this book will go back and read the earlier release. Like tIoHC, Wonderstruck integrates full pages of text with full pages of drawing--hence the illustrated-novel versus graphic-novel designation. In this book, however, there is even more illustration, adding to the richness of the reading experience. Even more interestingly, though, the book starts by alternating text pages of one story with illustrated pages of another story. The two seem completely separate and unconnected at first, but over the course of the novel the two story lines merge interestingly.

The book is enchanting and unusual, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. However, after finishing, I began reflecting on the underlying premise of both books. In Hugo, a 12-year-old orphaned boy lives in a Paris train station after the death of his father (mother already deceased); in Wonderstruck, a similarly-aged boy runs aways from home after the death of his mother (father already absent/unknown), traveling from rural Minnesota to hide out in NYC's Museum of Natural History. Both successfully manage to feed themselves, remain safe, and meet other people.  I can't help but wonder about this, as it's hard to imagine such success stories. I know this is fiction and allows room for fantasy--and many Tween/Teen books rely on a premise of absent parents and independence--but it's a bit scary too. Of course, I'm not in any way suggesting this book should be kept from young kids, and I don't believe it would cause them to run away, but I certainly think there are some conversations that could be held around the premise. After all, there's a difference between this type of "fantasy" world and one that you find through a secret door in the back of a wardrobe: it is accessible. And, there are no talking animals to offer guidance.

[Also visit my friend/colleague Stephanie Vanderslice's blog Wordamour for some more conversation on this concept of real world fantasy.]