WHEN WE WERE SNAILS

A mother and child navigate migratory living and a period of separation.

Like snails, the parent and little one carry their homes with them, moving frequently for the mother’s work. Life is both beautiful and difficult. When they move to a new city, Mom says that “snails leave traces of themselves wherever they go.” The pair keep close amid change, so when Mom must leave the young protagonist with her own parents, the child is distressed. “My tummy hurt and my eyes stung….I was sad but I did not cry.” Straightforward first-person narration presents a deeply emotional yet unsentimental picture of a child’s transitory life. Details in the illustrations suggest that this is a particular experience of internal Chinese migration, but Cao’s textual directness feels universal; certainly, employment-based migration is a familiar phenomenon worldwide. The challenges that this experience holds for children also persist—a message communicated with subtle sophistication by an image of the youngster staring ahead stoically while held in the arms of an equally impassive grandmother. Swirling scenes of parent and child are colorful and uplifting, imbued with the loveliness of a childhood secure in familial love. Snails grace both the protagonist’s drawings and the bright, blooming flowers that curl around page corners.

An affectionate ode to parental devotion in challenging circumstances.