by Sam Juliano
Then it happened. A sudden, terrible light flashed all around. The light was bright orange – then white, like thousands of lightning bolts all striking at once. Violent shock waves followed, and buildings trembled and began to collapse.
-Toshi Maruki, Hiroshima No Pika (1980)
Eric Schlosser’s 2013 Pulitzer Prize finalist Command and Control: Nuclear Weapons, the Damascus Accident, and the Illusion of Safety is a harrowing and unnerving work about the palpable prospects of a nuclear detonation, one the author believes we have so far averted because of an astounding run of luck. Four years later the war of words with North Korea as a result of the rogue nation’s ongoing development of nuclear weapons has again brought the matter to center stage, with potential destruction as feasible as Schlosser had envisioned it. Literature for children on this most unthinkable of viable calamities is understandably scarce, especially works on the aftermath, like the once-banned Children of the Dust by Louise Lawrence and the shattering Hiroshima No Pika, a 1980 Japanese picture book by Toshi Maruki that chronicled the terrifying events and nuclear fallout after an atomic bomb was dropped on the ill-fated city. Raymond Briggs’ Where the Wind Blows, which was also adapted into a critically praised animated feature that examined the human devastation even more acutely, and a 1983 American film, Testament is an intimate story of a family that succumbs to radiation poisoning one by one.
A cautionary picture book, The Secret Project by Jonah and Jeanette Winter, (a son and mother team) is first set in the first quarter of 1943, when United States scientists convene in a New Mexico desert town to engage in an ultra secret enterprise, one the government has requested be completed in short order. Though unsuspecting young readers can’t be expected to immediately identify the objective of this clandestine rendezvous in one of the most innocuous of settings, the book’s mysterious, almost sinister context is scrupulously unveiled much like the peeling off of wraparound gauze after a plastic surgery operation. The book is directly based on the real life “Trinity Test” which was conducted on July, 16, 1945 on land part of the White Sands Missile Range. The end payoff – preceded by a 10 to 1 countdown readers associated with a rocket launch is simultaneously spectacular and terrifying, and leaves no room to underestimate the destructive power of a mushroom cloud explosion that has long since become the physical symbol for complete annihilation. About two years after scientists began their work in the desert atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, bringing Japan to its knees and ending the Second World War. Whereas Schlosser intimated it was only a matter of time before an accident will cause unthinkable devastation, Jonah Winter at the conclusion of his afterward offers hope that stockpiles of nuclear weapons will continue to erode as governments reject the dire effects tests will have on the environment and on health. Winter refers to a 2016 statistic that there remains around 15,700 nuclear weapons in the world presently, but that with world cooperation we can eliminate this very threat of our existence completely.
At the outset Jeanette Winter employs her magnificent digital paintings to accentuate the outdoor beauty of the southwest vistas, recalling some of the impressive monochrome line drawings Peter Parnall did for Byrd Baylor in the 1960’s, which won him several Caldecott Honors. Author Winter denotes a tranquil mountainous landscape in a vast desert while artist Winter’s arresting minimalism incorporates pink textures and a preponderance of plants to denote a spirited interval, a calm before the storm. Launching the narrative shortly before the sudden cessation of activities ordered by the government in a kind of eminent domain maneuver, middle-school age boys in this private institution are outside engaged in games. But the practically idyllic surroundings are soon abandoned after the school principal is given the bad news, and Winter addresses this unwanted intrusion with muted tones, nocturnal blues and a forlorn quality discernible by an open schoolhouse door, a pair of shoes hanging from a rope and a previously used ball left behind. At that point the book’s typography changes from green to black almost as if to thematically emphasize the terrain’s “loss of innocence.” Scientists begin to arrive by cars during a golden sunset, as newly employed workers who will serve food, clean and offer security are checked out and allowed entry, though of course they too aren’t privy to what will be going on. Illustrator Winter’s brilliant silhouette tapestries are introduced by one showing the nondescript experts working through the night. Cutting the tiniest particle in the world – the atom- in half is the first stage of one of the most complex scientific creations known to man. Cerebral contemplation of atom masses is realized firework-styled configuration, but then after the next turn of the page the artist in deliberate juxtaposition reminds the readers that the milieu outside the makeshift compound couldn’t be more breathtaking. Cacti are aplenty, coyotes howl, beavers explore and an artist creates on location. Brighter and more colorful hues and the liberating thrall of daylight seemingly allow for the aesthetic response to the shady machinations being engineered behind closed doors.
Perhaps the most ravishing canvas of all is the ornate one showing a Hopi Indian engaged in carving beautiful wooden dolls in a place author Winter tellingly denotes as “in the faraway nearby.” As if to point to the imminent danger of the surreptitious progress inside the now converted laboratory, the illustrator continues to paint this dubious activity as always cloaked in darkness and a serious threat to the passion and productivity still prospering all around. In a race against time this nameless figures, super intelligent mathematicians work on equations in another Jeanette Winter gem depicting frenzied activity around a chalkboard illuminated by a ubiquitous seedy overhead light. Two of the men are crafted as drab figures in an automobile entering a vibrant town. In a brief sojourn from their cloistered habitat they visit a small wooden park and a central stone monument, but remain incognito even while maintaining a friendly demeanor. But when the leave during the cloak of night their eyes are peeled in the rearview mirror, making sure they aren’t followed. But they too are subject to security gate scrutiny and must present their identification to the guard. Again in the laboratory the covert fraternity must sort out the never-ending entanglement of equations, the most vital component in this government sponsored mission. The Secret Project’s most emblematic and arresting illustration, the one superbly encapsulated within the borders of the letter “O” on the cover title, highlights symbols of atoms, neutrons and protons on the profile silhouette of a scientist’s head. Jonah Winter corresponding narrative thrust keys in to the point where research has latch onto what turns out to be the vital discovery:
Only a little more research is needed – research on a metal called uranium that can be turned into something with enormous power. And then:
After two years of almost constant research the “Gadget” is completed, ready to be tested. The great scientists gather around their creation in silence, wondering if it will work.
Of course the term used for what was the be the quirky most destructive instrument ever conceived in world history was to mask the severity, while trying to divert concern. The artist denotes the “miles and miles” of open space where they will conduct their test, even suggesting that it is raining in one section and is dry in another. The “Gadget” is hung from the top of a metal tower. But they must drive to a safe spot so they can observe without getting hurt or risk being adversely affected from the radioactive fallout. Under the cover of darkness they pack the “Gadget” onto a truck and drive into the night, even passing through some rain on a trek they fully expect no one will take notice of. The artist’s canvas here depicting a dark night in an off the beacon track under a moon-lit sky and then under the cascading rain is stunning They retreat to a distant bunker where they expect a thunderous explosion of earth-shattering proportions. They are shown again in silhouette and then looking out from a round window to witness this inconceivable test. After a double page spread features the countdown, with the size of the numbers decreasing, they are then seen wearing glasses as the nuclear weapon explodes. Ms. Winter’s art here is spectacular, especially as the force of the red-orange tornado like torrent rises and then, suddenly with one turn of the page all turns a terrifying black, which in this book represents nothingness in what can be seen as an end of the world scenario for people within range of the detonation. The ominous stark gray-black cover features bold, gravestone lettering and a back panel of the school before governmental intrusion.
The Secret Project introduces the most fearful of subjects to the youngest readers at a time of supreme urgency. Jeanette Winter’s resplendent minimalism compellingly establishes mood and mystery, while most importantly warns those who partake in such development risk our very existence. The intrinsic beauty of our culture and physical surroundings has rarely been presented in such fateful terms as those in this uncompromising work. This powerful picture book is one of the two or three greatest of 2017 and demands inclusion in the Caldecott committee’s winners circle.
Note: This is the fourth entry in the 2017 Caldecott Medal Contender series. The annual venture 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 in the neighborhood of around 30 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 in mid-February, hence the reviews will continue until around the end of January or through the first week of February.
Famed illustrator Jeanette Winter
