CHILD OF GLASS

Gisele, a miraculous girl born as clear as a windowpane, must live with her every emotion plain for the whole village to see in this import, translated from French.

Flat matte artwork (a combination of paint and collage) creates Gisele’s provincial town “near the cities of Florence and Bilbao” as a jumble of narrow buildings and people while translucent vellum paper and delicate blue linework relay her fragility and transparency. With Gisele’s thoughts “on display [as if] in a shop window,” she sometimes grows despondent, even furious. Readers, like the townspeople, might stare at Gisele’s flat features, her helmet-shaped head, and her nudity. But once they accept this fable’s premise, they quickly encounter wrenching, interesting questions about emotions, communication, public opinion, and acceptance. Both sensitive young people who broadcast their feelings and those who clutch their emotional cards tightly to their chests will reel at the overwhelming notion of having one’s inner world exposed, revealed for others to dissect, criticize, or coddle. “Aren’t you ashamed to show such awful things, Gisele?” a monstrous, distorted crowd of clothed villagers sneers. Gisele’s pain, articulated by double-page spreads of her wide, pale blue face shedding a multifaceted crystal tear through powerful vellum page turns, will feel acute and familiar to adolescents.

Will reach both small and older readers struggling to conceal, manage, and express complicated inner worlds.