Originally published in Belgium and the Netherlands, a fantasy about reconnecting with our humanity.
Opening spreads depict light-skinned, blue-eyed Lisa in a city, her bright-yellow slicker contrasting with the gray setting, whereas others’ moods match their dreary surroundings. “Whether at work, at home, or while walking along the streets, the people only stare at screens—as if they’ve forgotten how to look at one another.” Lada’s style recalls the work of Peter Sís or Giselle Potter, with watercolor washes and a playful, flat aesthetic to the big-eyed characters, who sometimes resemble paper dolls. So Lisa, inexplicably small on the page at this particular moment, embarks on a fantastic journey to find “a way to help people see each other again. A way for them to see the beauty of the world again.” She climbs a rock tower, sleeps in a cave, crosses a labyrinth, and encounters “a ship full of refugees,” whose “dreams are scattered in the wind.” Perhaps lost in translation from the original Dutch, Lada’s text doesn’t quite connect the dots between Lisa’s earlier observation of city dwellers’ screen addiction and the “long ribbon of people leav[ing] their homeland,” but Lisa’s trek brings her to “the edge of the world,” where she unleashes dreams represented by whimsical flora, fauna, and objects that float from a “deserted fantasy factory,” “igniting dreams. Connecting lives.” Despite the story’s perplexing moments, the visuals will entrance.
Lovely, if rather opaque.
(Picture book. 3-7)