4 of 4 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Where are we going and why am I in this handbasket?, September 27, 2005
This is what I like about Ed Young. You never know what the heck he's gonna do next. Some authors, like Demi, have a single style and do not waver from it, come hell or high water. Mr. Young is different. Some days he feels like doing a picture book full of colorful blind mice. Other days he's more interested in retelling of Little Red Riding Hood but in a Chinese vein. He is also, I must add, an inconsistent creator. He's just as likely to produce a stunning, "Lon Po Po" as he is a dreadful "Turkey Girl" or a so-so, "Sons of the Dragon King". To be frank, this is what I like about him. Young's unpredictable. A loose canon. I was, therefore, delighted to pick up "I, Doko". I knew it was an unusual offering, but also just as likely to be stunning as ridiculous. After a quick read, I can state with zero hesitation that this book falls squarely into the "stunning" camp. Young may not know where his next book is going to lead him, but if it's anywhere near the direction you find in "I, Doko", he'll be doing well.
The book is told from the point of view of a basket or "doko". In Nepal, this doko explains its role in a family's life. It is bought by its master, Yeh-yeh and used to carry babies, food, kindling wood, and eventually Yeh-yeh's deceased wife Nei-nei. Yeh-yeh has a son who grows quickly into a man and who starts his own family. The doko reports happy occasions like weddings and births in which it plays a special part. Unfortunately Yeh-yeh is growing old and can no longer help in the fields. He spends his time instead growing close to his grandson Wangal. One day, Wangal and Yeh-yeh overhear Wangal's father (Yeh-yeh's son) telling his wife that the next day he will leave his aging father on the nearest temple steps so that the priests can take care of him from now on. The grandfather and grandson (and basket) are distraught at this news but can think of no way to save Yeh-yeh. The next morning, the doko carries Yeh-yeh on his son's back to the temple when Wangal asks his father to be sure to bring the doko back. When asked why he replies that when it is time for HIS father to be put on the temple steps, the basket will again prove useful. Stunned, the father brings Yeh-yeh home again and, "Wangal's love and respect for his grandfather inspired and transformed the whole village in how to treat elders".
I can see farsighted grandparents already purchasing this book for their wide-eyed grandchildren in the hopes that the modern equivalent of the temple steps (i.e. nursing homes) be avoided as a result. In a little note at the beginning of the book, Young states that this book was, "Adapted from a folktale appearing in various forms in Nepal and in many other Asian countries, most often conveyed in the oral vernacular". You may rest assured that this translation from an oral tale into the written word has not suffered the text one jot. Young writes this story with a steady hand and the fact that we are hearing this story from the mouth (?) of a basket is both original and effective.
Complimenting the text are Young's illustrations, which are stunning. Sometimes a good picture book contains a single striking illustration that the reader keeps returning to again and again and again. In Jane Yolen's, "Owl Moon" it's the first direct shot of an owl. In, "I, Doko", it is the picture of the father being told by his son that he may one day suffer the same fate as the parent on his back. His eyes overflow with shocked/hurt tears and reflected in them is the image of his son, arms stretched imploringly out to him. I've sat for minutes on end contemplating this picture and I am certain that children will do the same. The rest of the pictures aren't anything to scoff over, of course. Young renders these pages in gouache, pastel and collage, not afraid to punctuate the borders and important elements of his tale with a bright gleaming gold. The doko is often splattered with paint, thereby allowing its collage body a chance to look handdrawn. These pictures utilize silhouettes, wide open spaces, dark nighttime canvases illuminated by a single light, and a thin streak of pink that alerts us to the dawn's approach. Until this book was published, Young's, "Lon Po Po" hadn't an illustrative equivalent. Now it has.
If there is one thing about this book that makes it a little confusing, it's Young's refusal to name Yeh-yeh's son/Wangal's father. I had to skip back and forth through the text to figure out who exactly was taking who to the temple steps and why. If Young had named the unnamed father, it would have cleared up a lot of confusion along the way. Otherwise, once kids have the gist of the story they'll never quibble with such details. This is the kind of book that will deeply influence child readers on a thoughtful and almost painfully beautiful level. I gush. I apologize. But if you get a chance, definitely check out, "I, Doko" on your next trip to the library or bookstore. It hasn't gotten itself a lot of attention. Amend this.
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