Margaret Wild

Well! This brilliantly disturbing picture-book is something a little different! Dystopian fiction for the school set? Yes. Or, perhaps no. An award-winning Australian import - it was given an Aurealis Award (Australia's science-fiction, fantasy and horror prize) in 2007, and chosen as a CBC (Children's Book Council) Honour Book - Woolvs in the Sitee is the story of Ben, a terrified young boy living in what appears to be a post-apocalyptic world. Hiding in his basement room, emerging every show more once in a while to seek water, and companionship with his neighbor, the kind "Missus" Radinski, Ben worries about the hateful "woolvs" that haunt the "sitee," and longs to see a blue sky again, rather than the bleak gray and black skies that hang over the mostly abandoned city outside. When Missus Radinski disappears, however, Ben must put aside his fear and go in search of his only friend and companion...

Who, or what, are these woolvs? This is never made entirely clear in Margaret Wild's eerie story, and that ambiguity gives the narrative an immense power, as fear is so often accentuated when it is vague, and the unknown danger can feel far more threatening than the specific one. If this truly is a post-apocalyptic dystopia, than the woolvs might be some sort of horrific creatures, or perhaps bands of roving humans, transformed into marauding gangs by whatever disaster overtook their society. On the other hand, if - as has been suggested by some reviewers - this is a story of mental illness, with the bleak world around Ben reflecting his illness, or being a depiction of the world as viewed through the distorted lens of his illness, then perhaps the woolvs are his own personal demons - the emblems of his disease. Although I lean toward the former, I think either interpretation works pretty well. show less

When the enemy bombs the library, all of the books are destroyed except for the one Peter's father has checked out. A true treasure, the book tells the story of their people, and when the father and son must flee, they take it with them. The travails of the road prove too much for Peter's father, and the young boy must bury him by the wayside, and carry on alone. Eventually the box with the book in it grows too heavy for him, and he buries it underneath a linden tree, intending to return for show more it one day...

A moving exploration of the hardships of war, and the importance of keeping one's traditions and culture alive, even in the most difficult times, The Treasure Box is just the latest thought-provoking book I have read from Australian author Margaret Wild, who seems to specialize in children's stories that explore difficult concepts, from the necessity of both joy and sorrow for a true sense of being alive (The Stone Lion) to the intersection of mental illness and dystopian futures (Woolvs In the Sitee). The illustrations by Freya Blackwood, an artist whose work I absolutely love - The Selkie and the Fisherman is possibly my favorite, although all of her books are lovely - are simply beautiful, and something a little bit different from many of her earlier titles. I seem to recall that her artwork in earlier works is painted (watercolor, I think?), whereas here there are both painted and collage elements, with bits of text worked in to each scene. Some of this text, according to information on the colophon, is taken from foreign-language editions of Australian author Morris Gleitzman's books, but some is in English, and is apropos to the scene in question. When bits of paper rain down, after the library has been bombed, they contain words like "ever forget," "hope," "sang," and "great empty."

A powerful and poignant book, with a moving story and gorgeous artwork, The Treasure Box is one I would highly recommend to anyone searching for children's tales addressing themes of war, loss, survival, and keeping hope and tradition alive. show less

Sitting outside of a great library, the eponymous stone lion in Margaret Wild's poignant tale is as frozen in heart as he is in body. He gazes upon the world and is unmoved by its suffering, and indifferent to its joys. Longing to come alive and explore the park across the street, the lion is counseled by a wise gargoyle that only the most generous of hearts is granted such a wish. When a homeless little girl named Sara collapses in front of him, after laying her infant brother before him, show more the lion is finally moved, and longs with all his being to be able to bring the children into the warmth of the library...

Australian author Margaret Wild seems to have a knack for telling thoughtful and thought-provoking stories. I vividly recall reading her Woolvs In the Sitee and finding it incredibly interesting and haunting, so I am glad to have found another winner from her pen. The messages highlighted here - that feeling and accepting both sorrow and joy is intrinsically linked to being alive, that the generous heart can accomplish miracles - are worked seamlessly into the narrative, which stands on its own, separate from any didactic purpose, as an engaging story. The artwork by Ritva Voutila is likewise immensely appealing, depicting a grey and sepia-toned Depression-era world, one that feels both historical and timeless. The use of subtle color, and of light and shadow here, is very skilled. It's easy to see why this was shortlisted for The Children's Book of the Year Awards, handed out by The Children's Book Council of Australia. Recommended to anyone looking for children's stories that address issues of homelessness, poverty, generosity, and the central role of emotion is being alive. show less

Little Puffling grows up with Long Black Feather and Big Stripy Beak, who tell him to stay in the burrow, safe from the dangerous gulls, while they bring him fish and sand-eels to eat. He asks, Am I strong enough yet? Am I tall enough yet? Am I brave enough yet? And his parents measure his paddling strength and his height, and listen to his heart (this part made me tear up). Eventually the puffling is deemed ready, but he has to make the journey to the water on his own. A tender heartbreaker show more of a book about growing up and leaving the nest - literally!

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Re-read many times including July 2019 show less