Nicola Davies (1) (1958–)

A young Italian immigrant, newly arrived in Wales, finds the gray, rainy landscape around him alien and unfriendly. The little houses that "huddled on the humpbacked hills," the chimneys that smoked, the streets that smelled of mutton soup and coal dust, the unfamiliar words in everyone's mouths - all of these things together, tell the boy: "This is not where you belong." Then he befriends old Mr. Evans, a retired miner who keeps pigeons - birds which remind the boy of his home. Bonding over show more their shared interest in pigeon racing, the old man and the boy become particularly invested in Re Del Cielo - King of the Sky - a beautiful specimen with a snow-white head, whom Mr. Evans believes has the making of a champion. When King of the Sky is entered in a race from Rome to Wales, the question of his success or failure ends up holding great significance...

It's easy to see why King of the Sky was chosen as one of "The New York Time's Best Illustrated Children's Books of 2017!" English illustrator Laura Carlin's mixed media artwork is immensely expressive, capturing the emotional register of each scene perfectly with her impressionistic figures. I particularly loved the two-page spread depicting the flock of pigeons in flight, as well as her use of a more limited color range, when the characters are discussing something traumatic, such as war. All that said, although this is a very beautiful book, what really made the reading experience extraordinary for me was Welsh author Nicola Davies' story, which moved me to tears on more than one occasion. Her language is expressive, often very beautiful - I loved the image, quoted above, of "humpbacked hills!" - and most importantly, emotionally evocative. One really gets a feeling for the grayness, not just of the hills around the boy-narrator, but of his soul, as he considers this seemingly unwelcoming world. The slow opening up toward a more joyful sense of belonging in the story is mirrored by the poignant sense that loss, in the form of the weakening Mr. Evans, is still with the boy, that perhaps his joy and sorrow go hand in hand, and always will.

In sum: a powerful picture-book, one I would recommend to those looking for deeply felt children's stories that address themes of loneliness and alienation, friendship and solitude, the human connection to the world around us, and the immigrant experience. show less

A young crofter who loves his life by the sea, and sings to the waves most evenings, is surprised to discover one night that his song is being answered - by the singing of a silvery seal. Night after night, the human and seal sing to one another of their loneliness, until finally the seal emerges from the sea as a woman, and gives her sealskin to the crofter for safe keeping, making him promise he will return it when she asks for it. So begins their joyful, music-filled life together, a life show more that eventually includes two young children. But when his selkie mate eventually does ask for her sealskin, the crofter, worried and afraid of losing his love, puts her off, giving her a gift instead. So begins the slow disintegration of their love and life, as suspicion and hostility replace love and joy. The crofter learns too late that by attempting to hang on to his selkie, he has made her loss inevitable...

The third of British author Nicola Davies' Shadows and Light series, which offers original stories, in the style of folktales, that are meant to "explore the deeper, darker side of our connection with the natural world," The Selkie's Mate is an outstandingly beautiful book. The story itself is predictable, if one has read any selkie lore - I have, and quite a bit, as I love these seal/human creatures of Scots and Irish folklore - but is still immensely powerful. I appreciated Davies' poetic language, her evocative descriptions, and her ability to create nuance in her characters. I don't often sympathize with the human character that imprisons the selkie (usually a man), but Davies allows us to see his wrong actions as arising, not from malice, but from love, fear, and a lack of wisdom. There is immense poignancy in watching the eventual demise of the central love relationship here, precisely because the reader can see it coming, and can see how, in some ways, it is made inevitable by the nature of the two participants. The accompanying artwork by Claire Jenkins, who makes her debut here, is beautiful, capturing the enchantment of the sea and shore of the story. I thought her choice not to paint the faces of either crofter or selkie was a wise one, as it made the visual aspect of the book feel like a natural part of and backdrop for the story, rather than a depiction of it.

Of the three titles I have read thus far in this four-book collection - this one, Mother Cary's Butter Knife and The White Hare - this is by far my favorite, and one of my rare five-star books. Moving, powerful, and beautiful, it is one I would recommend to those who love folklore and folktale-style stories, as well as to those interested in selkie lore. show less

This remarkable picture book is an excellent text to share with young readers. It follows an unnamed narrator who, as usual, leaves her family to spend the day at school, but whose life is turned upside down by the arrival of war (a bombing) later that afternoon. The book describes the harshness and confusion of war and charts the difficulties faced by those displaced by conflict. Hope is offered towards the end of the book; after being turned away elsewhere, our protagonist is finally show more welcomed into a classroom where she can learn 'about volcanoes, and sing, and draw birds'. This is an essential purchase for elementary school libraries; I will be sharing it with my students, and look forward to discussing it with them. show less

Driven north as an embittered young man, the eponymous Elias Martin becomes even harder and more bitter as he struggles to survive the perils of a cold, unforgiving world. A fur trapper who considers every kill a blow for survival, a victory against an uncaring world, Elias has no room in his heart for softer emotions. Until, that is, a mysterious young girl shows up outside his shack one wintry day, and he unexpectedly takes her in, beginning to raise her as his own. Birch is awake to the show more beauty of the world, and she awakens Elias as well. But when a wolverine strikes, Elias' determination to kill this rival for their food source leads to the loss of the only meaningful thing in his life...

The fourth book in British author Nicola Davies' immensely powerful Shadows and Light collection, which offers fantastic original stories intended to "explore the deeper, darker side of our connection with the natural world," Elias Martin is a heartbreaking book, one whose pathos is not at all diminished by the inevitability of its tragic end. I read the second half of the story with a knot in my stomach, fulling expecting the loss that Elias suffered, but despite my foreknowledge, the blow was not softened. Davies is a marvelous writer, and the text here is poetic and powerful. The artwork by Fran Shum, which looks almost etching-like in style, perfectly captures the harshness and beauty of the world around Elias. I picked this one up with the impression that it was the last of a four-book series, but I see from the back matter that two more titles are in the offing - Bee Boy and the Moonflowers and The Eel Question. This is all to the good, as I have greatly enjoyed all four titles thus far published, and heartily recommend them to any young reader who has a taste for folktale-style fiction. The themes can be quite dark, but the writing is superb and the artwork beautiful. show less