The Boy in the Garden (review)

Bored on an adult-imposed trip to a famous garden, Jiro wanders off; still steeped in his mother's retelling of "The Grateful Crane," he first mistakes a crane statue in the garden for a live bird, and then stumbles upon a small cottage that seems to be the very house from the folktale. There Jiro encounters a beautiful woman, seemingly the enchanted crane of the story, and he strives to shift his iteration of the tale away from its usual sad ending. The "it was all a dream—or was it?" conclusion is a bit of a cliché, but Jiro's encounter with traditional story is otherwise multilayered and compelling. Say quietly draws on Jiro's feelings of exclusion from the adult world and on his separation from his mother (who initially read him the tale), poignantly demonstrating the boy's yearning for grownup competence and for a combined Oedipal and narrative triumph, whereby he could both care for the motherly woman better than her husband did and make the story come out the way he wishes. Say's watercolors have a smooth, even control that's perfect for his realistic portraiture, with far-reaching landscapes emphasizing Jiro's isolation, but that mode also manages to shade seamlessly into an airy, slightly stylized folkloric style in the crane wife herself and in her household with Jiro; the first view up the curving path of stones to the little cottage is a silent evocation of embarkation into the world of legend. Not only does this offer an unusual entrée into a folklore discussion, it provides an excellent opportunity to share Bodkin's haunting Crane Wife (BCCB 10/98). A brief retelling of "The Grateful Crane" opens the book.