by Sam Juliano
There is a serious strain of juvenile obsessive-compulsive disorder being played out in Scott Campbell’s irresistibly effervescent The Hug Machine, but it is not one likely to fan the flames of dysfunction, especially the kind that could adversely affect the recipients. No, this kind of behavior has its heart in the right place, and the consequences are benign. The theme is human intimacy, that even extends to inanimate objects, one that extols the virtues of wearing your heart on your sleeve, and publicly displaying what many keep to themselves. The first time I actually saw The Hug Machine was back in early October. A bunch of copies were stacked in the main window display at Manhattan’s Books of Wonder, the ultimate showcase of children’s literature and picture books. The creative exhibit included some set pieces from the book, in what is really a natural for this kind of promotion. This kind of extreme behavior makes for a visually alluring presentation. Wanting to purchase two other books that day -I did- I figured I would wait until the following week to return for The Hug Machine. Bad move. By then they were sold out. A desperate stop a few blocks away to the Strand saved the day, and initiated my special attraction to this fabulous pink lemonade picture book. Campbell, who collaborated with Kelly DiPucchio on Zombie in Love and its sequel, was the sole creator of this one-note Valentine’s Day picture book that never once diverts from its central purpose.
What one notices straight away is that the book is suffused with pinks and whites from the cover onward, yet the cute little protagonist is male. Campbell makes it clear that there are no gender restrictions when it comes to affairs of the heart, and that a generally perceived feminine color is also the one that best expresses warmth and intimacy through the ultimate investment of positive energy. The cover illustration makes it clear that hugs are not just reserved for life forces but for any object the “hug machine” deems worthy of his special embrace. Translation: The hug machine is a purveyor of good will, camaraderie and peaceful coexistence, one who believes that his role is to spread affection and make the world a better place because of it.
The first time we see the hug machine in the story proper he is walking down the street, arms upraised, eyes and mouth wide open. He’s a boy on a mission. His creator gives exclamatory definition to his modus operandi: “Whoa! Here I come! I am the Hug Machine! The initial recipients to his distinctive if idiosyncratic way of bonding are his family; he hugs mom as she cooks, dad as he reads the paper, older sister as she speaks on the phone. While he triumphantly opines that no one is able to resist his theatrical overtures, the family seem weary. He then makes his rounds, hugging a whistle-blowing policeman, a gardener watering plants, three workers waiting to be transported, and a balloon-wielding young girl. Even the balloon gets a passionate clutch. A fire hydrant, park bench, mailbox and the trunk of a tree get cuddles, and to show that the hug machine isn’t prejudicial against the size of his objects, he puts the squeeze on a tall bear and a turtle with equal aplomb. It is worth noting that the hug machine almost always has his eyes closed, as per Campbell’s fabulous employment of scant minimalist strokes to register soulful intent. Then our passionate marauder struts his stuff taking on soft and hard (a sheep and a rock), square and long (and ice cream truck and a snake) and a crying baby. The success of the later gives cause for Campbell to present an irresistible close up of the action in a marvelous splash of pink.
When a porcupine declares “What about me? I am so spiky. No one ever hugs me.” Resilient as ever our proponent of eternal ebullience returns with a baseball’s catcher’s mask, gloves and body gear that protects him as he…..you guessed it!…..establishes precedence by mingling with thorns. Then the hug machine brings his enviable talent to the biggest stage in a step by step but thorough caress of a giant whale. Even the kids who by this point have not completely identified with the Hug Machine’s take-no-prisoner approach, will jump on the band wagon when they learn that this ball of endless energy eats plenty of pizza, and in wide-eyed mode at that! After gouging himself he is on the prowl again, and in seen completely incorrigible in Campbell grandest tapestry of all, a Candy Land spread that documents widespread hugging with anyone and anything that crosses his weaving path: woman with baby carriage, joggers, a trumpet player, picnickers, a man drinking at a fountain (the fountain gets a hug too!), school children and their teacher, a construction worker, a skateboarder, a man mowing the lawn, a mailman, a girl walking a dog (the dog too!) a woman carrying a tray of lemonade and glasses, and a roller skater. Campbell asserts that the hug machine will always be at his active and opportunistic best when people are out and about, and this double page spread is a marvel of illustrative ingenuity and design: our eyes can’t help but follow the rick path and it takes account of this microcosm of humanity in the rural patch where each could conceivably be encountered. To emphasize the nature of this singular mission on a grand stage the illustrator follows up with another in your face impressionistic design of pink watercolor wash, serving as the background for a monstrously large image of wide eyed-boy in exaggerated pose, with the brown-lettered “Hug!” hovered above. Then the heart-warning finale after the hug machine has expended his energy.
Campbell accomplishes so much with so little in this book. There is no better way to explore a theme than to present the bare essentials and let the reader’s imagination take over. Yet there is a stylistic unity, one established by color, those indelible facial expressions crafted by line, and the extraordinarily effective watercolor fonts. The thick and bold border, and purposeful visual disorder perfectly embodies the thematic idea that there are no rules or regulations in the hug machine’s world. It is also safe to say that there is a clash on these pages between irreverence and old-fashioned romanticism. But heck, that’s what give this book its edge and wonderful sense of humor.
I am hoping Caldecott committee members will stop whatever they are doing this week, while finalizing their deliberations and give this book a great big hug. It is the only thing to do.
Note: This is the forty-second 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 at least 40 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. The awards will be announced on February 2nd, hence the reviews will continue to the end of January.
