REBECCA

Drawing inspiration from both an ancestor and the death of her sister, Beaton follows an 18th-century island-dwelling family.

Rebecca, her husband, and their children work hard, depicted in scenes that evoke the cozy feel of Donald Hall and Barbara Cooney’s Ox-Cart Man (1979). One March day, Rebecca’s husband falls through the ice while hunting, leaving her with both a family to raise and a sorrow that lingers. The family grieves, grows, survives, and thrives, until the distant day that Rebecca, surrounded by their love, knows she must leave as well. Beaton, previously inclined toward the silly in her picture books, here writes evocative passages, beautifully encompassing what Rebecca knows and feels. “Death is an empty chair. Unfair. Finding yourself waiting for someone to come through the door who can’t…and the sound of nothing.” In any other creators’ hands, such themes could reflect a primarily adult sensibility. Here, though, the genius of art and text lies in a universality that will speak to readers of all ages. Notably, Beaton demonstrates that happiness and pain can—and do—coexist; love is the “other half” of sorrow. Playing spectacularly with light, Smith’s watercolors complement the prose seamlessly. His sumptuous scenes could stand alone, telling this tale wordlessly, but are far stronger paired with Beaton’s text; her writing is reflective, never sentimental. All characters present as white.

Joy glazed with the pain of loss is still joy, as this brilliant book reminds us all.