Scan barcode
A review by leslie_d
Loving Hands by Tony Johnston
5.0
Think: Love You Forever, but quieter, and sweeter. And without ladders.
Oh, dear, but this is a beautiful picture book.
With hands as its refrain and quatrains anchoring each double-page, Johnston moves through moments in the life of a woman and her son. The bulk of the memories are anchored in childhood, and their activity then deepens the meaningfulness of those moments’ echo in their older age.
Johnston’s quiet rhymes and rhythms are accompanied by the deep warm hues of Bates’ watercolors and gouache. They evoke sensations of not only an emotional depth, but you can feel the warmth, the stillness, anticipate the sound of laughter…
The illustrations are ones to linger upon, and the text invites a slowing down. Often we take rhyme as a means to sing our way along, fluid and bouncing with a lightness and swiftness. Johnston employment of loose rhyme, non-uniform lines, and punctuation controls the rhythm and guides the reader into a slower more meditative experience. Take those pauses at full-stops wherever you find them. Savor and breathe—just as you should those moments spoken about in the story, and in the memories you are making and recalling in your every day.
Something I especially adore about Loving Hands is how a nurturing mother is raising a nurturing son. Walking through the pages: “her Lamb”; snuggling; in a garden with vegetables and flowers; planting; baking; feeding birds in winter. The mother sings songs and plays and tends wounds; tells her son that he is not only brave, but tells him “we’re brave as bears”; they gaze at the stars together (future, possibility, legacy); and she has newspaper tucked under arm and wears business attire as she waves him off to his own life outside the house (school).
It may seem like a small matter, but I love that the mother’s wardrobe changes. And that few of their interactions play out in classically domestic spaces.
The memories distilled into small captures above stanzas are a lovely means of emphasizing Johnston’s use of hands to collect a lifetime of meaning in the relationship between the mother and son.
The companionable presence of the cat and dog are a nice addition. Though their presence is infrequent, it is noticeable the cat and the dog aren’t cohabitants, the cat appearing early and the dog arriving later. Their understated participation in the visual narrative suits the nature of change and the idea of cycles and seasons of life—as does the garden. I love that she is shown reaping, collecting the fruit of their garden/labors late in the book, late in her life as her “hair turns white as salt.” Oh that line that follows, “Her memories slip like sand.” The fineness, of salt and sand; the preservative and nod to the passage of time.
The first read will be an uncomplicated pleasure that will blink with tears. And you’ll return to it again and again to appreciate the craftsmanship of its creators. I enjoy thinking about just how excellent Johnston and Bates are in their work, and I know I’ve not given it enough time (on paper or otherwise).
Loving Hands will be joining my repertoire of gifts to young (and not so young) mothers. It’s one I’ll be sharing with my mother-in-law—with Kleenex.
https://contemplatrix.wordpress.com/2019/03/20/lovingly-made/
Oh, dear, but this is a beautiful picture book.
With hands as its refrain and quatrains anchoring each double-page, Johnston moves through moments in the life of a woman and her son. The bulk of the memories are anchored in childhood, and their activity then deepens the meaningfulness of those moments’ echo in their older age.
Johnston’s quiet rhymes and rhythms are accompanied by the deep warm hues of Bates’ watercolors and gouache. They evoke sensations of not only an emotional depth, but you can feel the warmth, the stillness, anticipate the sound of laughter…
The illustrations are ones to linger upon, and the text invites a slowing down. Often we take rhyme as a means to sing our way along, fluid and bouncing with a lightness and swiftness. Johnston employment of loose rhyme, non-uniform lines, and punctuation controls the rhythm and guides the reader into a slower more meditative experience. Take those pauses at full-stops wherever you find them. Savor and breathe—just as you should those moments spoken about in the story, and in the memories you are making and recalling in your every day.
Something I especially adore about Loving Hands is how a nurturing mother is raising a nurturing son. Walking through the pages: “her Lamb”; snuggling; in a garden with vegetables and flowers; planting; baking; feeding birds in winter. The mother sings songs and plays and tends wounds; tells her son that he is not only brave, but tells him “we’re brave as bears”; they gaze at the stars together (future, possibility, legacy); and she has newspaper tucked under arm and wears business attire as she waves him off to his own life outside the house (school).
It may seem like a small matter, but I love that the mother’s wardrobe changes. And that few of their interactions play out in classically domestic spaces.
The memories distilled into small captures above stanzas are a lovely means of emphasizing Johnston’s use of hands to collect a lifetime of meaning in the relationship between the mother and son.
The companionable presence of the cat and dog are a nice addition. Though their presence is infrequent, it is noticeable the cat and the dog aren’t cohabitants, the cat appearing early and the dog arriving later. Their understated participation in the visual narrative suits the nature of change and the idea of cycles and seasons of life—as does the garden. I love that she is shown reaping, collecting the fruit of their garden/labors late in the book, late in her life as her “hair turns white as salt.” Oh that line that follows, “Her memories slip like sand.” The fineness, of salt and sand; the preservative and nod to the passage of time.
The first read will be an uncomplicated pleasure that will blink with tears. And you’ll return to it again and again to appreciate the craftsmanship of its creators. I enjoy thinking about just how excellent Johnston and Bates are in their work, and I know I’ve not given it enough time (on paper or otherwise).
Loving Hands will be joining my repertoire of gifts to young (and not so young) mothers. It’s one I’ll be sharing with my mother-in-law—with Kleenex.
https://contemplatrix.wordpress.com/2019/03/20/lovingly-made/