Review by Booklist Review
In this Canadian graphic novel, a young boy comes home from playing to see his father being wheeled out of the house on a gurney after suffering a fatal heart attack. His mother fades into her room and isolation, and he slides into the enormous task of taking on grief that is simply too large to fully grasp. Nadeau's charcoally, naïf-style artwork has the loose-figured feel of a child's drawings that belies its sophistication, especially apparent in two standout sequences that add tiny notes of humor and humanity to the melancholy story. In the first, Harvey remembers the film The Incredible Shrinking Man, providing a piercing reflection of his own inner state. In the second, Harvey listens and records in pictures what people say about his father at the funeral, getting carried away as tight in the collar gives way to waffle topped and crackly complexioned. Although adults may be more attuned to the complex portrayal of being bowled over by catastrophic loss, for children this open-ended book is deserving of discussion, difficult though it may be.--Chipman, Ian Copyright 2010 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
In this challenging graphic novel, Bouchard's first book for children (which won Governor General's awards for both text and illustration in 2009), narrator Harvey promises to tell readers about "the time when I became invisible." An early spring day is forever changed when Harvey and his brother arrive home, just as their father is being wheeled into an ambulance, dead of a heart attack. In somber shades of mauve, teal, and charcoal, Nadeau's delicate, smudgy spot art and full-bleed scenes create a stark world for Harvey's plainspoken observations. Heartbreaking imagery abounds: after gawkers disperse, the silhouette of the family's home suggests a gemstone, white-hot under pressure; Harvey's mother curls up alone. Because of his small stature, Harvey can't see into his father's coffin, and he mulls conflicting images of his father based on mourners' comments ("[M]aybe the way to see for real is to listen to all of them"). When an uncle lifts him up for a better view, Harvey disappears-like many might wish they could in such a situation. Reality becomes concrete, he becomes insubstantial, and the book ends (though Harvey may reappear in a sequel). Ages 10-up. (Oct.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
Gr 3-6-Harvey feels invisible. No one ever really notices him. His younger, taller brother is the one who stands out. Harvey spends most his days racing toothpicks along street corners against the neighborhood children. When he comes home one day to find that his father has died of a heart attack, he discovers that he is the one person who can help his brother understand their family's tragedy. Harvey's first-person perspective captures the grief and innocence of a child's greatest loss. The muted watercolor-inspired style is dark and sad, emotionally appropriate without being too over the top. Many pages are without text. For example, when the crowd outside Harvey's house slowly scatters after the ambulance departs, several pages are devoted to showing his mother standing outside their home alone. While the overall melancholy feel of this title might leave many children depressed, it is a great graphic novel to give to a younger child trying to understand the pain of bereavement.-Ryan Donovan, New York Public Library (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review
The sudden death of young Harvey's father and the disorienting grief that follows is hauntingly portrayed in this story of how loss rips an ordinary life apart. While the bleak palette and flat style of the illustrations match the emotional tone of the book brilliantly, the utterly unresolved ending makes the audience for this cheerless, albeit heartfelt, illustrated novel difficult to determine. (c) Copyright 2011. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
A sparse, evocative look at a father's death. Young Harvey lives in a simple time in which friends race toothpicks down gushing gutters, anxiously running alongside to see whose wins. On one of these idyllic spring days, Harvey comes home to find that his father has suffered a fatal heart attack. In the wake of the death and subsequent memorial service, he feels himself slipping away, into what he calls "invisibility." The narrative gently fades out, as does Harvey's presence. Harvey's child's-eye perspective is flawlessly conveyed in both nave-looking drawings, artfully composed, and direct, present-tense narration alert to detail and rendered in blocky hand printing. His grief and confusion is painfully clear in the smudged, muted colors and heavy use of white space. Eschewing boxy panels, this lyrical elegy glides along seamlessly, languishing over each space. The original, French edition won Canada's Governor General's Awards for both text and illustration. Pensive, with hushed, desolate notes, this is best suited for thoughtful readers, both YA and adult, who are ready for a quiet literary examination of loss. (Graphic memoir. 12 up)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
