That Book Woman (review)

Cal’s home in the Appalachian mountains is remote from civilization (with “the onliest school a jillion miles back down the creek”), and that suits him just fine; he’d rather help his father with the farm work than be like his sister, Lark, who loves nothing better than reading. When a horseback librarian adds Cal’s home to her rounds, Lark is thrilled, and even Cal is impressed with the tenacity of their regular visitor, who treks up the mountain through a snowstorm to bring more books. Determined to find out what drives the librarian on such a mission, Cal starts to decipher print under Lark’s tutelage; come spring, his mother thanks the Book Woman for making “two readers outta one.” This fictional tale, based on the real-life Depression-era pack horse librarians, is a little overly worshipful, but the gently countrified ragged-right text is appealingly low-key, and it’s respectful of Cal’s important farming capabilities as well as his eventual mastery of reading. Small’s watercolors employ a more muted palette than usual, with an emphasis on earthtones that accords with the brown typeface. There’s solidity both in his Kentucky farmstead and its inhabitants, and the long, spare lines of cabin and kid provide a vertical emphasis that’s strategically softened by occasional roundness in elements such as Mom’s figure (another baby’s on the way), curved branches, and critters from cow to cat. Kids sitting in well-equipped media centers will find this an eye-opening insight into the difficulties some have faced in previous generations, though they may also wistfully yearn for horse-powered bookmobiles of their own. A note about the Pack Horse Librarians is appended.