WOODPECKER GIRL

A physically disabled girl paints by using a brush attached to a headband.

This Taiwanese import ostensibly crafted by three creators—two authors, one illustrator, no translator—actually has four creators: Huang Yipei, the model for the protagonist, made paintings that Doll integrates into the illustrations. Doll’s breathtaking paintings, with Huang’s work seamlessly incorporated, shimmer with swaths of soft and rich colors, warm and harmonious. Angles are steep, scale dramatic—the protagonist is often miniscule. Canvas texture under the paint adds depth. On one spread, the protagonist sits in her wheelchair, half-hidden behind a door, at the faraway end of a stark path of light; a storm cloud unleashes rain onto her head while, in the foreground, un-rained-upon children play with a puppy. She can’t play with the puppy because her chair’s wheels “might roll onto him,” but why can’t someone lift him onto her lap? The text’s tragic view of disability—“All I can do is sit quietly”—shows some uplift with the introduction of assistive technology (a headband-brush to paint; a computer to speak), bringing the girl freedom and joy. But the text doesn’t let her do it for herself; even though she loves making art, it hurts, but she will do it to bring happiness to others. Her specific disability—cerebral palsy—goes unacknowledged until the backmatter, where notes from all three creators and Huang’s mother overcorrect the tragic viewpoint, framing Huang as an inspiration.

Gorgeous artwork within a disappointing framing of disability.