by Sam Juliano
Depending on what day of the week you ask me, I will have a firm answer to the question of what might be the year’s premiere picture book achievement. As it is I have a few supreme favorites, but no discussion of the cream of the crop could successfully move forward without a twenty-one gun salute to Grandfather Gandhi by Arun Gandhi and Bethany Hegedus, with illustrations by newbie Evan Turk. Of course the assured obeisance is deliberately posed irony, since war, ammunition and bombast are a contradiction to this book of peace, tolerance and inner spirituality. Eve Bunting and David Diaz’ Caldecott Medal winning Smoky Night advocated peace and friendship after an arc of violence and criminal activities, and Grandfather Gandhi is thematically launched after a domestic act of bullying. Grandfather Gandhi, a work ten years in the making, is that rarest of birds, a Caldecott contender that could also be a Newbery front runner. In any other words, a book that boasts prose that is just as beautiful as the illustrations that service it. It is clear enough that Ms. Hegedus, a former Metropolitan area educator, who now resides in the Lone Star State, wrote the lion’s share of the prose under the guidance and personal revelations of Mr. Gandhi. The latter is the fifth grandson of one of the most most iconic persons to live in the 20th Century – Mohandas K. Gandhi (1869-1948) – who was the guiding force for Indian independence from British control. The book, like the teachings of its celebrated proponent asks its readers to live the world as light, and move from the darkness of anger and vengeful reciprocation to illumination and camaraderie.
In the book’s dazzling climax young Arun visits his grandfather’s hut and explains that he was bullied on the soccer field after attempting to score a goal. He picks up a rock planning to exact revenge, before his cousin intervenes, urging him to calm down. Explains Arun through the Gandhi/Hegedus prose: “But I didn’t want to calm down. I wanted to throw the rock, to hit Suman, like he hit me.” Gandhi at that point dismissed the aide who was occupying his time, realizing he must attend immediately to the grandson who affectionately referred to him as “Bapuji.” The venerated sage promptly explains to Arun that even Suman and Kanu feel injustice and rage, that even he -the beloved man of peace- has experienced anger. Gandhi instructs Arun to assist him in “spinning” an act that serves as a metaphor for how one challenges inner rage. Bapuji asks Arun “Have I not told you how anger is like electricity?” and after a shake of the head explains “It is. Anger can strike, like lightning, and split a living tree in two,” he says, vitally adding “Or it can be channeled, transformed. A switch can be flipped, and it can shed light like a lamp.” Arun then contemplates the times he say Bapuji speak before thousands, reigning in ire, opting for diplomacy and reform, in sharp contradiction to those like Malcolm X, who advocated fighting fire with fire, but in accord and surely a role model for the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.
In the book’s thematic linchpin Gandhi declares “Then anger can illuminate. I can turn the darkness into light.” It was then at the supreme moment of revelation that Arun committed the remainder of his life as a beacon for peace, harmony and an unwavering adherence to the principals of non-violence. In the book’s most moving coda Gandhi and Hegedus describe that stop-dead moment, one that no doubt even temporarily stopped the spinning of the previous page almost in symbolic reverence:
Grandfather slowly stood. He beckoned me to him and together we stood at the doorway of his hut looking out–at everyone working as one. He hadn’t told me I was foolish. He hadn’t told me I was wrong and he was right. He hadn’t even forced me to choose: lightning or lamp. But I did choose, and I would choose, over and over, from that moment on, like Grandfather……..I did my best to live my life as light.
Brooklyn illustrator Evan Turk’s first picture book assignment has yielded dynamic and arresting tapestries that bring remarkable visual translation to some of our civilization’s most cherished convictions. The stark mixed media parer collages are negotiated in gouache and watercolor, and generously employ the use of cotton and tin foil. The exotic locale is envisioned through hues of orange, muted yellow, mahogany with earthy browns and non-descript greens that describe a place of political unrest in the natural trappings of an arid, almost otherworldly terrain. Turk, son of an art teacher, and formerly from Colorado is an exceedingly gifted young man, and one could only wonder in amazement what lies ahead after this tour de force of illustrative prowess that surely has left many veterans open-mouthed in awe. He has created one of the most ravishing front covers of 2014, a three-dimensional portrait of young Arum and the great Gandhi with walking stick in hand, slowing making their way up a path that is shown with minimalist perspective, overseen by a scorching orange sun and mirrored by the shadows that Turk used throughout the book to stunning effect. The biege foundation and brown lettering are wholly exqusite, and Gandhi’s cotton white shorts tell as much as anything of the simple roots from which incomparable greatness emanated from, while Turk’s stylistic flourishes are seen in the abstract interpretation of foliage. The back cover -a replica of Grandfather Gandhi’s eighth tapestry- though, is no less beautiful, displaying four vignettes in the book’s central symbol -the spinning wheel- of domestic life in Sevagram. The spine does its share to achieve pictorial unity with a muted orange base and dark brown letters.
Turk’s spectacular debut is evident in each and every one of the book’s eighteen double page spreads. Though it would be hard to favor any over the aforementioned spinning wheel collage (cotton, string, cut paper mache are brought together to established movement, which maintaining aesthetic beauty of the highest order) there are a number of others that once seen remain unforgettable – the steaming and peopled arrival at Segragram; the first sight of a bare-chested Bapuji huddled behind a spinning wheel and his subsequent embrace of his family members; the scene of a throng eating bland boiled pumpkin, negotiated convincingly with foil; the stark prayer session adorned in green and orange; the striking long shadow of John Wayne’s swagger in silhouette; the lusciously abstract vignette of the two meeting along the fence; the color photo further fleshed out by color and life forces; the harrowing encounter on the soccer field with wildly disjointed shapes and scribbled lines; and the stunning silhouettes of grandfather and grandson inside hut, in dark purple and yellow. The end papers are adorned with spinning wheels, and the letter page at the beginning makes great use of cotton and white string. This is not the work of a first-time illustrator, but there you have it.
In the end, Grandfather Gandhi is to children’s literature what Richard Attenborough’s Oscar winning Gandhi is to the cinema. Vividly and dynamically it tells a story of one of the past century’s most venerated figures, living simply in an intimately rendered domain seen rarely, and rarer still in this kind of glorious word and pictorial complicity when lives are molded and the human race profoundly takes a crucial step forward. Grandfather Gandhi is one of the most moving and sublime books of this or any year.
Post-script: Ms. Hegedus and Mr. Turk appeared on September 24th in my Fairview, New Jersey school district and completed five class presentations that focused on the teachings of Gandhi, the existence of school bullying and how to stem it; and the arc of the book’s planning and involvement of the now grown up adult who was the book’s main character, and how Mr. Turk -who brought along his incredible enlarged work prints- planned his own strategy in illustrating the book. It was a spectacularly successful event, much as many others around the country the pair in tandem or separately have completed.
Note: This is the eighth entry in the 2014 Caldecott Medal Contender series. The series does not purport to predict what the committee will choose, rather it attempts to gauge what the writer feels should be in the running. In most instances the books that are featured in the series have been touted as contenders in various online round-ups, but for the ones that are not, the inclusions are a humble plea to the committee for consideration. It is anticipated the series will include between 20 and 25 titles; the order which they are being presented in is arbitrary, as every book in this series is a contender. Some of my top favorites of the lot will be done near the end.
Top photo: Ms. Hegedus with Arun Gandhi; bottom photo -Ms. Hegudus and Evan Turk with Supt. DeLissio, Dr. Speppin, Reading coordinator Maryann Bennetti, teacher Betty Puente, Principal Lucille Juliano and myself at lunch break on September 24th
