“Hell is — other people!,” as a character in Sartre’s one-act play “No Exit” famously exclaims.
Yes, we are social animals, looking to others to give our lives safety and meaning. But there sure is such a thing as too much togetherness.
Writers and artists are particularly inclined to be introverts — it’s hard to make a masterpiece at a dinner party, after all. So I’m not surprised to see three lovely new chapter books from three different countries all singing the praises of good old-fashioned me time.
In Claire Lebourg’s A DAY WITH MOUSSE (Transit Children’s Editions, 88 pp., $18.95, ages 4 to 10), translated from the French by Sophie Lewis, it’s not clear what kind of creature our green-striped, red-socked hero is. What is clear is that he has his routine dialed in. Every day is full of sweet rituals, like standing at the shore till “the moment when his paw tips start to go numb,” making coffee (I love when a children’s character makes coffee) and listening to the radio while watching the tide roll in.
Except the tide rolls straight into his living room, filling it with seawater. Mousse’s house is right on the ocean, and the ocean lets itself in, turning his home into a swimming pool that he dives into with delight.
When the tide rolls out, Mousse collects the ocean treasures left behind and sells them on the internet (don’t worry, he checks for inhabitants first). This is his life, a surreal and simple watercolor dream. Until one day it’s disturbed by Barnacle, an aptly named walrus who moves into Mousse’s bathtub.
Mousse tries to evict his uninvited guest, but when Barnacle falls ill his softhearted host can’t resist nursing him back to health. He even finds himself enjoying Barnacle’s company. Still, when the walrus’s family comes to collect him, Mousse is thrilled to regain his solitude. The memory of his houseguest warms his heart as he reflects on their time together, but he wouldn’t invite him back. Unfortunately, in the end, he may not have a choice in the matter.
The Japanese author-illustrator Akiko Miyakoshi’s titular LITTLE SHREW (Kids Can Press, 72 pp., $19.99, ages 5 to 8), alone in his tiny-animalness, lives in a world where everyone else is a full-size human. What could be an unsettling situation is just gently odd, thanks to the soft, precise pencil illustrations. Shrew works at a currency exchange at the airport, where he drinks coffee (j’adore!) and has lunch with his human colleague Tom.
Then he returns home to his quiet, orderly apartment. His evenings are spent listening to the radio and going through his to-do list. What might seem lonely is cozy, because Shrew is content in the satisfactions his life brings, like freshly baked rye bread rolls dipped in warm milk or finally solving his Rubik’s Cube.
His world expands in small ways, such as when he trades his scarf for a television and sees a tropical ocean for the first time, or when two animal friends come to visit. We see his excitement grow as he decorates his apartment and makes a special soup. A badger and a mouse arrive and the three friends party, rocking out to Shrew’s keyboard jams.
Shrew loves the company of his friends, but he does not feel sad when they leave and his apartment is quiet again. “It was a good year,” he murmurs. He’s grateful for his life, exactly as it is.
I want to keep watching Shrew go about his humble business forever, but like his friends, I can’t stay.
Lone Wolf does not want friends over for dinner. He does not want friends, period. In LONE WOLF GOES TO SCHOOL (Neal Porter/Holiday House, 56 pp., $16.99, ages 6 to 9), written by the Australian author Kiah Thomas and illustrated by K-Fai Steele, our besneakered hero knows exactly what he wants. “Other people” just keep screwing it up.
Wolf spends little time in his new classroom before his booger-smeared classmates and pesky teacher get on his nerves. Growling is unacceptable, so he’s asked to leave.
And that’s it for school. He tries to watch a movie in an empty theater, eat some chips on a tranquil beach, even bike to a remote mountaintop. He gets only a few peaceful moments in each place before someone blocks his view, steals his snack or demands a selfie. They’re basically harmless, and hilariously drawn (the jolly hiker in particular had me cackling), but this is hell for an introvert.
Unable to find a place to himself, Wolf instead decides to throw a big party for all his new “friends.” The picture-book happy ending you might expect turns wonderfully upside down as Wolf ditches them and enjoys all the locations they’ve now vacated. Heaven.
“Other people” are going to be in your life no matter what. But the person who is always going to be there is you, and that’s a very worthwhile person to be friends with. I think these three characters would probably get along fine if they ever met. And they’d also be quite happy to part ways.
The post Two’s a Crowd: 3 New Chapter Books Sing the Praises of Me Time appeared first on New York Times.
