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Before reading Michael Cunningham's [b:A Wild Swan: And Other Tales|23848124|A Wild Swan And Other Tales|Michael Cunningham|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1439951912s/23848124.jpg|43458105], I noted the bio of its artist, [a:Yuko Shimizu|3957285|Yuko Shimizu|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1440431829p2/3957285.jpg], on the outer flap: it mentions this book. Anyone who knows me well knows that I am interested in books about baseball, even if they are children's books, maybe even especially if they are children's books.
When I got to the story's third two-page illustration (page 7), with a grim Zeni in the forefront while roiling maroon war-clouds swirl in the background, I was nudged by how familiar the art seemed. Not until I finished the book and then looked up the artist's website did I realize I first saw her work on the covers of the graphic series that starts with [b:The Unwritten, Vol. 1: Tommy Taylor and the Bogus Identity|6471550|The Unwritten, Vol. 1 Tommy Taylor and the Bogus Identity|Mike Carey|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327887253s/6471550.jpg|6662356]. I should've realized and I can only excuse myself by saying I'm not really a visual person.
Kenichi Zenimura is now considered the father of Japanese baseball. Barely five-feet tall, he'd become a star player in Fresno (California) leagues; been chosen to play in exhibitions with Lou Gehrig and Babe Ruth, as well as organizing a 1934 tour to Japan for Ruth. After Pearl Harbor, Zeni, his wife and two sons were forced into one of the interment camps in the Arizona desert. There they had to stay, for four long years.
This book is the story of how Zeni built a real baseball field within the camp's confines, including bleachers that sat 6000 fans. Anyone who has experienced the thrill of walking into a baseball stadium will understand how it felt when the project was completed. The power Zeni must've felt as he finally hit the ball for the first time on his own playing field is depicted in one perfect picture. As he rounds the bases, his joy is now in the forefront of swirling clouds, this time of white.
Zenimura, with Gehrig on one side and Ruth on the other, is the man in the middle:
When I got to the story's third two-page illustration (page 7), with a grim Zeni in the forefront while roiling maroon war-clouds swirl in the background, I was nudged by how familiar the art seemed. Not until I finished the book and then looked up the artist's website did I realize I first saw her work on the covers of the graphic series that starts with [b:The Unwritten, Vol. 1: Tommy Taylor and the Bogus Identity|6471550|The Unwritten, Vol. 1 Tommy Taylor and the Bogus Identity|Mike Carey|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327887253s/6471550.jpg|6662356]. I should've realized and I can only excuse myself by saying I'm not really a visual person.
Kenichi Zenimura is now considered the father of Japanese baseball. Barely five-feet tall, he'd become a star player in Fresno (California) leagues; been chosen to play in exhibitions with Lou Gehrig and Babe Ruth, as well as organizing a 1934 tour to Japan for Ruth. After Pearl Harbor, Zeni, his wife and two sons were forced into one of the interment camps in the Arizona desert. There they had to stay, for four long years.
This book is the story of how Zeni built a real baseball field within the camp's confines, including bleachers that sat 6000 fans. Anyone who has experienced the thrill of walking into a baseball stadium will understand how it felt when the project was completed. The power Zeni must've felt as he finally hit the ball for the first time on his own playing field is depicted in one perfect picture. As he rounds the bases, his joy is now in the forefront of swirling clouds, this time of white.
Zenimura, with Gehrig on one side and Ruth on the other, is the man in the middle: