A welcome addition to Geisert’s gratifying series of wordless oddments features a volcano, a giant seed pod and, for sure, a bunch of pigs.
A gathering of pigs live on an island. Don’t ask why, just get into the mood, as you did with Geisert’s recent production, Ice (2011), a story of another bunch of pigs living on an island, with different problems, but solved no less phantasmagorically. The pigs reside in a compound of very natty sties built at the foot of a towering volcanic peak. One day, the sea winds blow a super-colossal dandelion seed to the island. Unlike fastidious gardeners, who would have beat the seed to a pulp and tossed it in the waves, the pigs rally their forces in a terrific earthmoving project and plant the seed. Which is a good thing, for as the weed blossoms grandly, as dandelion seeds will, the volcano also gets active, raining blobs of molten lava down on the pigs’ homesteads. All of Geisert’s etchings are things of antique beauty—feasts for the eyes, the dandelion leaves alone are print-quality items—but the hail of lava has an otherworldly sinister loveliness. With the volcano spelling their doom, the pigs hitch rides on the gargantuan dandelion fluff to a neighboring island.
This is a story of magic, etched with an everydayness that encourages readers to invite wonder, even bewilderment, into their lives. (Picture book. 4-8)
