A Balloon for a Blunderbuss

written by Alastair Ried, illustrated by Bob Gill
Harper 1961 / Reissued by Phaidon 2008

One of those strange things about the publishing industry I'll never understand: Why would they let something like this slip out of print and out of their hands? Things being what they are, it's sad to see the short-sightedness of ignoring your history and your backlist.

Based on the simple premise of "what would you trade me for this" a butterfly is offered up, and through a series of trades -- for wishbone, a wishbone for a flag, a flag for a straw hat -- finally is traded for an island and everything on it. Of course, when asked to see the butterfly in hand it flies to freedom, proving that some things cannot be possessed, much less traded.

The simplicity of the idea is matched by Gill's graphics, isolated images in thick, inky lines and filed in with a single spot color, occasionally two at the most. Gill, who is a major influence in graphic design (and, oddly, also co-created Beatlemania for Broadway) understands a concept seemingly lost in today's picture books: less is more. While I agree that modern printing has permitted any number of miraculous picture books to be produced, I sometimes feel like gazing at a wall of picture books in a bookstore these days is the equivalent of staring at the signage of Times Square at night when what one wants is a cup of tea in a zen garden.




There's a lot of similarity with the travel picture books of Miroslav Sasek, both in illustration and simplicty.

Simple stories, simply told, simply illustrated. No fancy digital manipulations, no full page bleeds, no extraneous cleverness or in-jokes or asides scattered throughout the illustrations. The book isn't trying to compete with movies or video games or the presumption that a reader needs to be inundated with images to hold their attention.

Simple works.

I understand Phaidon has reprinted another Gill title, What Colour is Your World, and has also reprinted Tomi Ungerer's The Three Robbers. They may be onto something.

Martin Pebble

by Jean-Jacques Sempe
translated by Anthea Bell
Phaidon 2006
Originally published in France as Marcellin Caillou
Editions Denoel 1969

Martin Pebble is a charming little boy normal in all respects except for the fact that for no reason at all he blushes. He blushes when he shouldn't and doesn't when he should, all of it out of his control. Doctors promise cures but in the end Martin's condition remains unchanged.

One day he meets a new neighbor, a boy named Roddy Rocket who, for no reason whatsoever, sneezes uncontrollably. Martin and Roddy recognize soul mates in each other and from that day on they are inseparable. Overlooking each others differences they play together, share illnesses and become each other's champions.

When Roddy's family moves suddenly a letter with their new address intended for Martin is lost. Martin tries to lives his days as before but without his best friend the places and moments they once shared feel empty.

Martin grows to be a man who continues to blush uncontrollably. It still catches him off guard and is occasionally an embarrassment, but nothing he hasn't gotten used to. One day at a bus stop he hears the unmistakable sneeze of his childhood friend Roddy. They meet up and discover that despite the years they have remained their same old selves. They return to their familiar haunts, their old play, returning to their old routines as though the years between had never happened. Of course they are older and cannot keep the old paces but they are just as comfortable as they once were just sitting silently in each other's company, passing the hours.

And their boys have grown to be just like them in every way, inseparable friends, one who blushes and one who sneezes.



Sempe tells Martin and Roddy's story in a way that seems alien by today's standards; in small pictures surrounded by lots of blank space, the barest of spot color (usually Martin's red face), and over the course of 120 pages. The tone and presentation is perfect, telling Martin's simple story with a measured pacing. It isn't necessarily poetic, though it does focus on the quieter details of childhood friendships. There is something, oh, I don't know, French about how much story is told without seeming like there's any story there at all.

In a lot of ways I almost wonder if the book works with kids at all. There is an underlying nostalgia to the story that isn't the sort of thing a picture book reader is going to be familiar with, and the latter section of the book that deals with the adult versions of Martin and Roddy might just as easily bore a young reader. No, I don't think it is boring, only that picture book stories that feature grown men trying to relive their youthful exuberances probably isn't going to register.

If the illustrations look familiar you may be confusing his work with that of American illustrator R.O. Blechman whose wiggly line style is similar and not at the same time. No, Sempe is the artist many know for his little spot drawings for Rene Goscinny's Nicholas books which, happily, are currently being reprinted in this country again and are highly recommended if they haven't already crossed your radar.

Martin Pebble is probably one of those picture books best appreciated by adults, much the same as Dr. Seuss' later books (Oh! the Places You'll Go, You're Only Old Once) are primarily purchased by adults for adults. Seeing as this is graduation time perhaps Martin Pebble would make a nice alternative for the adult who appreciates picture books and would like a nice little message that isn't trying so hard.