Review by School Library Journal Review
K-Gr 3--The fig tree remembers when friends from both sides of its island shared their fruit while the children played, and the two communities shared common words, songs, and sunny days. The fig tree remembers when the fighting started and what happened next: friendships broken, soldiers on the ground, and gunfire shaking the tree to its roots. A general then drew a line in green pencil to divide the island; that boundary is still in place with barbed wire, clearly shown in illustrations. This is all based on real events: in 1974, the island of Cyprus split in two, following years of conflict. A Green Line was created that goes north to south and divides the Republic of Cyprus (Greek Cypriot) from Turkish Cypriot. This fig tree was there before the conflict and continues to be there today. Manoli, whose parents are Cypriot, includes a small glossary and an author's note, where she goes into more detail behind the separation and her hope for peaceful future. Giles uses a mix of handmade textures with gouache and acrylic paint along with drawn digital art. The artwork is heartbreakingly beautiful, showing bright summer and the fig tree, soldiers on the ground and fires in buildings, barbed wire going up, and the general drawing the dividing line with a green pencil. While the writing is clear and detailed, the illustrations almost tell the story alone. VERDICT A great narrative nonfiction purchase on a topic that is rarely discussed.--Kerri L. Williams
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review
In 1974, a Greek military coup in Cyprus prompted a Turkish invasion and occupation, and the small eastern Mediterranean island was divided into a Turkish north and a Greek south with a contentious "green line" separating the two. This reflective take on that conflict gives, in third person, the perspective of a fig tree that lives along the green line and has seen both peace and war. Mixed-media illustrations combine paint, printmaking textures, and digital art and have a highly geometric, layered, collage-like construction. The art contrasts the barren destroyed landscape with the lushness of the fig tree. The text never gets into specifics of the different ethnicities or what they are fighting over, and the use of the passive voice narrates a history without assigning blame to one side or another: "Trust was torn in tatters...understanding was lost, and fighting broke out." The tree serves as a symbol of peace: "The fig tree never forgets...she knows that whatever side you're from, the fruit always tastes the same [and] sharing its sweetness can bring people back together." A sweet conclusion presents two children -- one Turkish, one Greek -- savoring a majilla (fig), a shared word between Greek and Turkish Cypriots, together. This thoughtful representation speaks to something universal about ethnic conflict and peace that can be appreciated by many readers. A glossary and an author's note with more information on the history are appended. Julie Hakim AzzamSeptember/October 2025 p.86 (c) Copyright 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 fig tree in Cyprus that has shaded inhabitants from across the island feels sadness when war leads to a seemingly irreparable divide. An omniscient narrator describes the tree "remembering" the residents, varied in skin tone, who played and picnicked nearby, enjoying the abundant fruit. The tree notes that language connected the Greek and Turkish residents; all understood the words "majilla" (large fig) and "mashallah" (an Arabic expression of appreciation). Without explanation, the narrator reports that negative words sprang up: "enemy," "traitor." Curious children may wonder why. The vibrant colors, stylized shapes, and swirling textures of Giles' handmade and digital collages, which initially depicted verdant scenes dotted with cheerful pink elements, now portray war. Alliteration and metaphor heighten the drama: "Stomping boots, shuddering tanks, and stuttering gunfire shook the tree--and the island--down to the roots." Ultimately, a north-south boundary divides the land in two; barbed wire fences prevent people from crossing. As years pass, the centrally situated tree waits, hoping that a child from each side will be drawn to again share its succulent gifts, an act that could remind residents of their commonalities. Manoli lives in Cyprus; her author's note details the "centuries-old" fighting that led to this now-50-year division. While geographically specific, this elegant narrative offers a fruitful springboard to conversations about conflict anywhere. (glossary)(Informational picture book. 5-9) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
