by Sam Juliano
The most intrepid of canines was the ever-resourceful family handyman and space traveler Stanley who was the titular character in Jon Agee’s 2015 picture book It’s Only Stanley. Peggy Rathman’s Caldecott Medal winner Officer Buckle and Gloria chronicled the unbreakable bond between a policeman and the dog who performed with him on his visit to schools to speak on safety. In the cinema the loyal companion Parson Russell Terrier Uggie engineered a mad dash down a street to alert a policeman that his master was trapped in a house fire in Michel Hazanavicius’ 2011 Oscar Best Picture winner The Artist. But the role of a dog in the life of a child can never be downplayed both for steady companionship during upbringing and for an emotional bond that often supersedes any other. Veteran children’s book author-illustrator Sergio Ruzzier deliberately blurs the role of each protagonist in his latest early-age treasure Good Boy, which intimates a spiritual connection that rivals the deepest intimacy between a married couple, familial siblings, or the closest of friends. in fact Ruzzier raises the ante in a story where daily activities, meals, inter-space travel and sleeping re-define the meaning of soulmate in the context of a boy and a dog who are not -in contradiction of the conventional wisdom- separated by species, physical size or age, but are wed by common purpose and incomparable compatibility.
Ruzzier, the Italian born classicist with duel citizenship who divides his time between the US and Italy is in the Caldecott hunt for the fifth time in six years. With Good Boy he has produced what is surely by any artistic and conceptual barometer of measurement one of the finest works of 2016. Like all the best creations, Good Boy is thought-provoking, elegant, and invested with the most vital, if rudimentary measure of advocacy for our youngest readers. The book celebrates the power of friendship and the unlimited boundaries of the imagination. Once again Ruzzier’s colorful and sumptuous otherworldly tapestries evoke a European sensibility and some of his eccentric carnival scenes envision the surrealist cinema master Alejandro Jodorowsky, though framing the art as Felliniesque seems just as appropriate. The creator of the charming story of forgetfulness, Have You Seen My New Blue Socks?, the melancholic tale of friendship, A Letter For Leo, the counting book in miniature, Two Mice, and his gem about the power of reading, This is Not a Picture Book Ruzzier again makes in intimate pitch to the youngest readers with stirring examples of personal interaction and to teachers and adult readers his singular art Sharp-eyed viewers might see some persuasive comparisons with the art of renowned artists Leo Politi and Tomie DePaola, but on the other hand Ruzzier is an original whose work is far more singly identifiable.
The minimal text in Good Boy makes for a splendid interactive read aloud experience, one where the illustrations define the simple words, but progressively expand them as the narrative gets more complicated.. Ruzzier plays neutral when it comes down to placing the book’s human character always in command, and simplifies the story in comparison with his previous efforts, opting here to establish his narrative in terms picture-answers to the cue words. Behind a striking white cover where boy and dog shake hands Ruzzier offers up a series of vignettes documenting the stereotypical confines of a human master telling his dog what to do. Sit. Stay. Roll over. Stand. Shake. Bow. To each command the art confirms consummate obedience. These innocuous directives segue into what is perhaps the most emblematic of all human-to-canine orders, Fetch, which in Good Boy is a simple tapestry of the dog chasing a ball of yarn. The imperative Jump gives the author-artist a chance to make joyful reference to This is Not a Picture Book when this amenable pooch leaps over a a spine-up green-covered book, which is also seen on the following “Juggle” double page canvas along with a ball, bone, pencil, can and water cup. In the dinner sequence Cook. Serve. Eat. we first see the role reversal, though the dog’s subservience is also part of this neutral equation. Ruzzier’s stove and table illustrations are irresistible, and the bliss on the face of “Man’s Best Friend” as he carries the two plates should delight children.
After they collaborate with broom and dust pan –Clean- the boy invites his companion outside –Come– and Ruzzier’s art opens up to showcase the dog pedaling (with the bog as the passenger) down a hill from the house with the thatched roof that recalls Strega Nona, but adult readers just for a instant might be humming a few bars of Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein’s “The Surrey with the Fringe on Top.” With the word Fix to denote their dilemma, these inseparable adventurers briefly survey the situation, which according to Ruzzier the Artist is a beachfront spotting of a disabled sailboat that still has potential for repair. The next spread visualizes their success in a wavy canvas that again brings back memories from This is Not a Picture Book in the most rapturous of terms. They reach a platform island where they take a cue from the word Build. As if fate intervened they are provided with the raw materials to construct a spaceship, seen speeding upwards in the next blastoff spread titled Go and again a compelling recall with the 1975 science fiction-black comedy film A Boy and His Dog by L.Q. Jones may may invade the thoughts of the veteran readers. Their arrival on the moon is met with one of Ruzzier’s most charming tapestries, one where these audacious globe trotters manage communication with the natives who look like living and breathing toys. (Speak). They smile in front of a camera, which just maybe as it was in David Weisner’s Caldecott Medal winning Flotsam ensconced for posterity in the lunar archives. (Smile).
Of course the desire to return home -Ruzzier depicts the Earth in space, watched by these two incorrigibly intrepid wanderers- takes hold and they head back to their European-styled home, where they again engage in mutual habits of washing, brushing their teeth and dressing (for the boy anyway). They read, sing (dog crooning, boy falling asleep) and the boy implores his erstwhile companion to remain (Stay). The final Good boy of these two is clearly metaphorical as it applies equally to both halves of this unassailable relationship and the picture of both snuggled in bed brings this enchanting story full circle, with the memory of their lunar journey captured on the final page.
Ace author-artist Sergio Ruzzier
Ruzzier’s ravishing, inimitable art has an exotic flavor and it serves this scene-specific story extraordinarily well. The art in Good Boy, much like Ruzzier’s previous work is steeped in surrealist tones which in one sense accentuates the universality of the theme, but on another spurs on the creative unconsciousness that is inherent in the style. There has always been an otherworldly essence to his muted tapestries that -depending on the perspective- transports his mise en scenes to another era whether hundreds of years in the past or in the future where there is more than a hint of environmental decay. The subtle juxtaposition of images and perspective bring added imaginative possibilities for both the child and adult readers. The subdued applications of pink, yellow and shades of blue help mightily to establish the prevailing moods. While his captivating work has won numerous awards and citations around the world, he has yet to land in the Caldecott circle. A perfect fit for the youngest readers and their admiring guardians Good Boy could just be the artistic rainfall to end this long drought for this remarkable international talent.
Note: This is the tenth entry in the 2019 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 at children’s book sites, 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 15 to 20 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 January, hence the reviews will continue until the early part of that month.