Written by John Hegley
Illustrated by Neal Layton
(Hodder Children’s Books, 2011)
Often when I take my dog for a walk in the woods or along
the beach, we’ll encounter another dog, trotting contentedly with a stick in
its mouth. The dog’s expression conveys sheer joy. Such a simple toy. (My dog
engages in stick play only fleetingly. It is an unworthy substitute for human
interaction.)
When Legos and computer games are pushed aside, children can
also find sticks to be amusing springboards for the imagination. Antoinette
Portis captured this notion in the simply written and illustrated Not a Stick (a follow-up to Not a Box).
Stanley’s Stick by John Hegley and Neal Layton expands on this
theme. It highlights the imaginative play of children, but adds an emotional
attachment to toys, even to something as simple as a stick. Indeed, Stanley’s
stick goes with him everywhere, joining him at the outset at Stockport Station
as Stanley’s family readies to head to the seaside. Throughout the book,
Hegley’s phrasing sings:
Stanley’s stick was once part of something
tall and grand and it will never return.
But it can still be a stick as best as it
can.
The stick
comes to life in not just Stanley’s mind, but in our own.
The stick is
not just a toy; it’s a tool. Stanley and the stick do good things like rescuing
slugs that slither onto the station platform. Such an act of heroism makes us
emotionally attached, too. Thus, it becomes as surprising to us as it is to
Stanley’s parents when Stanley finally wanders to the shoreline and tosses the
stick out to sea. We need to read on.
Neil
Layton’s illustrations complement the story perfectly. Layton starts with simple
drawings reminiscent of Quentin Blake’s art in Roald Dahl books and then
sprinkles them with sparkly touches like mixed media bits of fabric and photos
of ocean waves. We want to imagine the illustrations extending beyond the page
as well.
Stanley’s Stick is well-crafted in every
way. It’s a story that will make you look at sticks (and slugs) anew.
