A girl is lost in a snowstorm. A wolf cub is lost, too. How will they find their way home?
Paintings rich with feeling tell this satisfying story of friendship and trust. Wolf in the Snow is a book set on a wintry night that will spark imaginations and warm hearts, from Matthew Cordell, author of Trouble Gum and Another Brother .
Matthew Cordell is the acclaimed author and illustrator of the 2018 Caldecott winner Wolf in the Snow. He is also the author and illustrator of Trouble Gum and the illustrator of If the S in Moose Comes Loose, Toot Toot Zoom!, Mighty Casey, Righty and Lefty, and Toby and the Snowflakes, which was written by his wife. Matthew lives in the suburbs of Chicago with his wife, writer Julie Halpern, and their daughter, Romy.
A little girl is leaving school for the day and has to endure a really bad snowstorm on the way home. As she begins her journey, she stumbles upon a wolf pack and a little wolf cub that appears to be scared and lost. She takes the cub along with her on the journey and hears the wolves howling in the distance. Why are they howling? She isn’t sure, but continues to trudge through the stormy weather as she keeps the wolf cub close to her.
As she makes her way home, the weather gets worse and she’s freezing cold. Will she ever make it back to her family? Follow along in the story to see what happens!
The winter scenery in this book is eye-catching and the message it sends is heartwarming. It teaches a lesson of the importance of kindness and helping when needed. It’s definitely going to be added to our home library!
I repost this review because this book, one of my favorite books of 2017, was awarded the prestigious Caldecott Medal of 2018! Yay!
The Power of Literature, The Power of Science
Though I have had a life of the outdoors, I am a city guy now. I don’t know much about wolves, really, except what I read about the western struggle to either protect or eliminate them. I have consistently been on the side of protecting them, chiefly informed by my reading of the great environmental writer (Arctic Dreams!) Barry Lopez’s On Wolves and Men (1978).
“We do not know very much at all about animals. We cannot understand them except in terms of our own needs and experiences”--Lopez
“. . . in the wolf we have not so much an animal that we have always known as one that we have consistently imagined”--Lopez
“We seem eager to be corrected, to know how wrong our ideas about wolves have been, how complex the creature really is, how ultimately unfathomable”—Lopez
Matthew Cordell did a lot of research and talked to scientists to get a better understanding of wolf behavior for his lovely and moving wordless picture book which I really think will appeal to all ages. It is so informed by science that I think I will categorize it as an “informational” book though it is in fact a wordless story.
A girl in the north country gets lost in the woods in deep winter as a wolf cub gets separated from her pack. The cub is afraid and in danger, in the cold weather, and the girl carries her to her mother. But the girl is now hopelessly lost, and in even greater danger. The pack, sensing this danger, howls to help the girl’s parents find her. The story, I repeat, is based on scientific knowledge, “evidence-based” knowledge. And it’s moving and important as we think of our environment, and our place in the web of nature. It’s lovely and I recommend you read it.
This is best summed up as One good deed deserves another. I will admit that the last 3 Caldecott books rocked my world and blew my mind so I went into this with some high expectations. This wordless picture book did not meet those expectation.
This is a good story, a decent story - I don't see it as the best story I have read so far for books published in 2017. The art was unique and again it didn't blow me away. I enjoyed it all - I didn't feel it was the cream of the cream for 2017 personally. I'm disappointed.
The kids turned the pages and talked about what they thought the story was. They didn't seem too invested.
This is a wordless book, except for sound effects like howling. The artwork of this book threw me off at first because it was a little chaotic with the snow, line style, and shapes used. After two or three pages though I got used to it and was able to enjoy the art and the story. The story was cute and sweet and had a happy ending. I would recommend this for kids ages 4 to 8.
It’s hard to pinpoint exactly why it is that I love picture books as much as I do. Putting aside the usual reasons (brain growth, increasing a child’s capacity for wonder, parent/child bonding, and so on, and so forth) on a purely personal level I think what draws me to them time and again is that the form is so open to artistic expression and change. Unless it’s a sequel (or written by a celebrity, for that matter), every single picture book out there is an object that must stand or fall entirely on its own merits. An author or illustrator that has experienced success in the past is naturally going to incline towards the safe option of producing more of the same. If and when they stretch beyond their comfort zone into uncharted territory, that is the moment I prick up my ears and dust off the old eyeballs. Let us take artist Matthew Cordell as today’s example. Prolific? Baby, you don’t know the half of it. A mere glance at the number of books he’s illustrated in as short a time as he’s done it leaves a mere mortal wondering how such proliferation is even possible. But Cordell’s is a simple drawing style. A child-friendly series of pen and inks with watercolors. At no point would I have suspected him capable of the pinpointed shocks of realism that you get when you read his solo project, Wolf in the Snow. A clever mélange of wolf tropes, heartfelt storytelling, and a call for conservation so understated you could blink and miss it, the greatest praise I can heap upon this book is to say that it reminds me why I love picture books as much as I do; they’re constantly surprising me.
One girl, alone. She wears a red coat with a pointed hood, and in the light flurries of winter she traipses off to her school in the countryside. On the way home the snow begins to fall in earnest. Meanwhile, a wolf pack is making its way across the land. Its youngest member, a small cub, falls behind and becomes lost in a whiteout. When the girl crosses paths with the wolf she takes it in hand. It can’t walk in the drifts, so she bears it over streams, past hostile raccoons and owls, finally to its mother. The walk and weight of the cub has taken its toll on the girl, though. Unable to walk further she huddles into a ball. Fortunately, the pack surrounds her and through their howling they are able to call her family dog and her mother. Mothers and their children, one and all, reunited again.
One of the most interesting aspects of the book is Cordell’s willingness to play with the child reader’s built-in expectations. If a girl wears a red hooded outfit and wolves are seen on the periphery then the likelihood that this girl is going to get eaten is pretty darn high. Now I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to come up with another book where the images are cartoonish while the animal threat is not. The closest thing I could think of was Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean’s The Wolves in the Walls. Like this book, there’s an honest shock when, in the midst of pure, silly illustration, you get these hyper-realistic pen-and-ink wolves emerging from the very walls. But where Gaiman and McKean used that moment for shock value, Cordell’s first look at a realistic wolf is ambiguous. My 2-year-old son, fed on a steady diet of fairy tales, knew from prior Three Pigs/Red Riding Hood experience that wolves are not good news and felt free to tell me as much. Yet these wolves, while nodding to their fairy tale antecedents, are also freeing kids from wolf-based prejudices. Cordell is leading you into the tale with a fairy tale premise, but when all is said and done he’s actually made a quiet case for conservation by the story’s end. Little wonder that he name checks the Yellowstone Wolf Project in his Acknowledgments at the story’s start.
As for the art itself, it’s so interesting to read and reread and reread again this book. You’d think that a nearly wordless story wouldn’t yield much in the rereadings unless it was chock full of tiny details or something. Cordell does have little details that reward closer examinations (the mom always wears green and the dad yellow, the wolf statue on the mantelpiece, etc.) but the real reason I like reading this book so many times is in how he conveys expression and emotion. For most of the book all you can see of the girl’s face are her eyes. A scarf is wrapped tightly around her mouth, so Cordell has seemingly, and with full knowledge of doing so, limited his heroine’s range of expression. Yet every feeling courses across her face beautifully. We see her exhaustion, her fears, her relief, and her bravery. We can also admire the ways in which Cordell can create water vapor in the air out of watercolors, or the muted pink of a setting sun behind a cloudy sky. The sole image in this book I had a problem with was of the wolf cub’s face when the girl reaches out to him, the first time, in supplication. A horizontal black slash below the eye makes it look like he simultaneously has his eyes both open and closed. I know the open eye is the one I’m supposed to be tracking, but that slash throws me off every single time. Otherwise, no objects from the peanut gallery over here.
Children’s book reviewers are prone to over-exaggeration and I am not innocent of this crime. I squee as loudly as anybody. I employ overused phrases like “the best” and “awesome” and “if you read only one book…” I even make occasional comparisons to the gods and goddesses of the field, so I’m going to preface what I’m about to say with a small explanation. I am about to invoke the name of Maurice Sendak. There is no Sendakian children’s author at work today. Not if we are to take into account the breadth and the depth and the sorrow and the humanity of his work. However, in his early years Sendak had a fine eye for page design and in this respect Matthew Cordell follows squarely in Mr. Sendak’s footsteps. Consider the book Where the Wild Things Are. As you read through that book you watch the margins. You pay close attention to what happens when images spread to the pages edges or contract into nice, tight squares. Wolf in the Snow is equally fascinating in this respect. I was utterly blown away by the myriad ways in which Cordell seeks to focus the readers’ attention on an individual, a group, or the looming threat of a given situation.
The book opens with a cozy image that, at the same time, takes up a full page. We’re accustomed to opening our picture books so as to meet the title page. Not so here. Cordell sets the stage instantly with a wordless family scene. We are watching this, through a window, from outside in the snow. After a turned page we get another full two-page spread that goes to the edges of the pages, showing the girl waving at her dog as she tromps off to school. Cordell is taking us from a cozy interior to a land with wide-open sky. A sky that could, potentially, cause that little girl some trouble. Now turn the page and look at what he’s done. The girl is now enclosed on the left-hand page in a tight bubble. On the opposite page, the wolf page is in its own bubble, but he’s set it up so that it seems that in spite of the miles between them, these wolves and this girl are inevitably going to meet. That’s when he finally let’s you have you precious title page, and none of the characters are anywhere to be seen. Just sky and snow. Snow and sky. From this point on the pages bleed to the edges, only to contract into those aforementioned bubbles as the girl and the wolf pup grow nearer and nearer to one another or when the girl confronts the wolf’s mother. And while Cordell does use panels on occasion for the sake of narrative brevity, for the most part he keeps his images big and bold and full-page.
Snow and wordless books go together like hot chocolate and marshmallows. Just off the top of my head there’s The Snowman by Raymond Briggs and The Only Child by Guojing, but look into it sometime. There’s something about a snowfall that gives you a newfound respect for the silent form. Admittedly Mr. Cordell’s book is not wholly wordless. But it is the animals that are allowed to speak in this book. Not the humans. No one reading this book would want there to be any text, though. I’ve read some wordless books that require additional explanation from the parental units reading them. This book is commendable for its clarity. Everything makes sense, even if the characters don’t always do what you think they would.
And now, a moment of silence (no pun intended) for the cover hidden beneath Wolf in the Snow’s book jacket. Many is the library that will Mylar that cover in a thick plastic sheath and tape it soundly to the book inside. If they do, loads of children will miss that fact that under the cover is an entire photo album of the two main characters. On the front cover you have the girl and her parents. It is, actually, the only time in the book that you can see her not wearing her customary red coat. On the back cover is the wolf cub and its family. There is even a moment of true affection between the cub and its mother, unseen in the book itself. Whether these picture take place before or after the events in the book is difficult to say. I’m just grateful they exist at all.
If you were to describe this book in the simplest terms possible you’d just say it was a book of, as Kirkus put it, “kindness repaid.” And it is. Kids see quite clearly that the girl’s good deed has a direct correlation to the wolves’ subsequent generosity. But I’d also argue that the book has a lot more going on below the surface. This is a book the celebrates the art of picture book storytelling in a very pure form. It’s a book that reminds us that when characters walk through thick, white, falling snow, they are somewhat obliterated by all that whiteness. The page underneath is white too. Wolf in the Snow is a quest story, albeit a truncated one. It’s also a tale about mothers and their children and the comforts of home. Or, as I said before, it’s a book that reminds you why we should all be grateful that picture books even exist. Practical, artistic, original, experimental, and ultimately hopeful. If wolves and humans can get along this well, maybe there’s hope for us all.
This almost wordless picture book shows a little girl leaving school in the snow and finding a wolf cub exhausted and seperated from it's family. She carries the cub back to it's family only to find that she is exhausted herself and collapses on her way home.
This was a nice story about helping and gaining the wolves help in return. The pictures were a bit confusing, I liked the drawings of the wolves but the humans all looked like elves and had what looked like white bandages wrapped around their mouths and foreheads. At first I thought this was a beard but then realised it was a little girl. It was an odd combination for the wolves to be realistic but the humans to be cartoon and elf like.
Read for my toddler's bedtime. A wordless story but the meaning is beautiful. Awesome illustrations! (Very few words actually.. bark for the sounds the dogs make, etc).
This one was just okay. I don't enjoy wordless picture books, like... ever... and I didn't think the storyline in Wolf was engaging enough to justify the total lack of dialogue. I don't care for Cordell's art style and just found the entire book to be tremendously underwhelming, especially considering its status as a Caldecott Medal winner.
Yes, I do very much and even with a few tears of pleasure in my eyes much appreciate (from a thematic and content based point of view) how in Matthew Cordell's (nearly) wordless picture book Wolf in the Snow the kindness of the little girl returning the lost wolf cub to its tribe is then equally repaid in full by those same wolves, who not only stand guard over her after she falls down exhausted on her way back from delivering the wolf cub to its family unit, but who also with their very howling seemingly deliberately attract the attention of the humans searching for the little girl (and yes, at considerable danger to themselves, I might add). However and my appreciation of and affection for the wordless storyline of Wolf in the Snow quite notwithstanding (and even though I do realise that Wolf in the Snow won the 2018 Caldecott Medal), personally and according to my own tastes, I have just NOT really found Matthew Cordell's award-winning artwork all that aesthetically engaging and visually attractive. For while I do consider that the wolves and most of the natural scenery in Wolf in the Snow have been delightfully and realistically enough rendered, especially the little girl in red, she just does not look all that physically pleasant, all that realistically appealing or indeed not even all that human in form, as she kind of appears rather like triangularly shaped reddish ghost-like creature. And yes, I do indeed have to wonder and question a bit why ALL of the depicted humans appear as though they are clad like geometric forms (when they are outside), and this especially since it does not appear to be the case with the wolves, dogs and other wildlife, that in Wolf in the Snow, the only strangely drawn by illustrator Matthew Cordell characters are the humans, are the little girl in red and her family )who certainly do look like rather strange triangles to and for men eyes).
Wolf in the snow is a wordless children’s picture book about a young girl who upon walking home from school becomes lost in a blizzard.
As she walks across the land trying to find her way home she comes across a lost wolf pup who is cold and scared. Although she is lost herself she is determined to reunite the wolf with his family and sets out looking for them.
It’s not often I get to review a book that doesn’t have any words but this book doesn’t need words as the illustrations tell the story perfectly.
I’m not surprised this book has won the Caldecott award as it is so poignant and heartwarming. I was touched by the little girl’s big heart and her need to help the pup and also by the wolves too who in return help the little girl.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words and believe me these pictures show exactly what this phrase means. The book is so beautiful and I completely adore it.
That this won the Caldecott doesn't surprise me in the LEAST. Oh, my gosh, it's GORGEOUS. Wordless, but so precious a story, and the art is fantastic. My kids love to look through it, I love to look through it, we all love this book!
A definite must-add to any wordless picture book collection. Helping to develop empathy and understanding of all creatures, and acknowledgement of the role of the wilderness, are all addressed without text in Matthew Cordell's engaging illustration style. The snowy scenery and the determination of the main character jump off the page. And the parallelism of the storylines from the two perspectives of the little girl with her family, and the wolf cub with his pack, add a depth and level of compassion to the story of doing all you can to help others. Love!
As with any award decided by jury/committee, there are some years I connect much more with the selections than others. This is one of the years I'm relatively unimpressed. Not that any of this year's books are undeserving, they just don't speak to me like those in years past. This is my favorite of the bunch, a wordless story of beautiful watercolor illustrations. It's sweet and touching and makes me want a wolf pup (just kidding I know that's a bad idea).
I'm reading Wolf in the Snow for the first time on February 12, 2018, the day it was announced to have won the Caldecott Medal as the preeminent American picture book of 2017. I'd never read any of Matthew Cordell's work, and that's what I like about the Caldecott awards: being introduced to authors and illustrators I might never come across on my own, who occasionally become favorites. We're treated to an elaborate show of Matthew Cordell's art in Wolf in the Snow, a nearly wordless story of two youngsters stranded outdoors during a snowstorm. Lives hang in the balance as a girl dressed in red and a lost wolf club cross paths in this frozen wasteland.
Headed home from school, the girl loses her way in the high snowdrifts and swirling winds. Some distance away, a wolf pack travels through the storm without realizing their littlest member has been left behind. Numb with cold and exhausted from wandering, the girl and wolf find each other. The girl picks up the cub and sets off in search of its family, braving new dangers to keep it safe, but the greatest danger comes when she stands face to face with a full-grown wolf who doesn't know why a human is holding its wolf cub. The girl's trek to reunite the cub with its pack has cost her crucial time to save herself, but even out in nature a selfless deed may be rewarded. Is there opportunity to create a happy ending for everyone involved?
Matthew Cordell's artistic ability is best seen in his closeups of the wolves. The feral, unpredictable energy in their eyes indicates what the lost girl is up against. She wouldn't stand a chance if the wolves opted to attack. The landscape renderings are also nice, but it's the wolves that stand out to me. I see why Wolf in the Snow won the 2018 Caldecott, though you can infer from my one-and-a-half star rating that I would have chosen differently. The Caldecott is a tremendous honor, and I'm happy for Matthew Cordell. Once you win it, there's no going back.
Red Riding Hood turned inside out. If only we lived in a world where beings could live in harmony, readily coming to the aid of each other. And, erm, if only Cordell had chosen to draw the people a little bit more appealingly... the wolves and snow are appropriately gorgeous so why are the people weird?
A young girl finds a lost wolf cub late one winter afternoon and proceeds to make a some very foolish decisions in this wordless story (excepting some animal sounds). This might have worked for me better if the main character didn't look like a walking pup tent in her winter coat and if the happy ending didn't seem like such a reach.
This beautiful wordless picture book tells the sweet story of a girl and wolf who get lost in a snowstorm and help each other find their ways home. Cordell illustrates the emotions of the characters beautifully and clearly tells a specific story without words. I would love to use this book in the classroom to show students the importance of illustrations and teach them how to use the illustrations to guide their thinking about the story. If you skip through this book too quickly, you will not absorb the full emotion of the characters, so you need to really look at the illustrations to get the most out of reading this story. I love this story, and I love the idea of using it in a bilingual classroom because no matter what language students can speak and read, they will all be able to engage in a conversation about this story.
When you close the cover on some books the first time read (and every time thereafter), you sit in stunned silence. These books have enveloped you in the best kind of emotion. They are filled with faith, hope and yes...love. They tell you we are all connected. Each of our stories is connected to another story. Some stories, like the stories in these books, cross boundaries and borders in their universality.
These essential, significant stories remind us of stories in our own lives. They remind us of a fleeting moment when an animal too large to be a coyote moved from the shore of Lake Michigan, out of the brush, and crossed the road in front of you and your dog, of another time when a larger dog charged out of the woods bent on attacking you and your dog but right before your eyes your sweet fifty-pound Labrador pulled back her lips and barred her teeth turning into a wolf and of a long journey to your house after parent-teacher conferences at night during a blinding snowstorm when you pulled alongside a stopped car and a sobbing woman with children begged you to help her get home by following your car tracks.
On Christmas Day 2016 I read a book, a brilliant book, with many points to ponder but first it will, like all great stories, resonate with and awaken memories in anyone who reads it. This title, Wolf In The Snow (Feiwel and Friends, an imprint of Macmillan, January 3, 2017), written and illustrated by Matthew Cordell is nearly wordless but the artwork speaks with such deepth you can feel its truth and warmth fill you from your head to your toes. It ties the souls of all beings together. It asks us to be our best selves.
Dramatic story told with few words, but lots of emotions. The pen and ink and watercolor illustrations are great. The closeup image of the Wolf mom on p. 33 (unpaged) is amazing.
This is a picture book that uses very few words. In fact, the only words in the book are those of sounds. Despite this, it is able to convey a beautiful sentiment.
This book is so stunning, I can't believe I only saw it a few days ago! I love it and I want to hug it forever. (I had to give it to Paul for Valentine's Day, but I don't know if he really loved it like I love it!)
Wolf in the Snow is a heartwarming wordless picturebook that hints at the traditional tale of Little Red Riding Hood but has a refreshingly positive representation of wolves in children's literature.
Although Matthew Cordell's drawing style is not my favorite personally, I have to admit that his illustrations are very expressive and they manage to be both cartoonish and realistic at the same time. I also appreciate his effective use of color, framing, page layouts, and various perspectives to emphasize certain details and to pace the story flawlessly:
Also, GREAT book design! Such engaging opening pages that lead up to the title page... And have you seen the book cover underneath the dust jacket???
Finally, I love the tiny details in Wolf in the Snow that are not only extremely satisfying to discover but they also add an extra layer of meaning (e.g., a wolf figure on the mantelpiece, color-coded clothing, etc.)["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>
I am usually not a fan of wordless books but occasionally one will impress me. This Caldecott Winner is impressive. I don't know that I'd have given it the award myself, but considering I'm prejudiced against wordless books, the fact I found this impressive does mean a lot. A little girl is coming home from school and hits a snow storm. A wolf pup gets separated from it's mother in the same storm. Kid meets kid and the girl takes pity on the wolf and struggles her way where she can hear the wolves howling. She's pretty tired but does get the wolf pup back to its pack then turns to try to go home. The wolves trail her home. When she falls, exhausted, the wolves surround her and start howling again and the pup attempts to revive her. The howling attracts the parent who finds her and takes her home to hot chocolate. On the mantle piece on top of their fireplace is a statue of a wolf. Just a little reminder to parents that a child's surroundings will affect how the kid views the world. Actually, considering how vicious people can be to wolves, I'm upgrading this to five stars.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Seriously, this is the best illustrated book those sweet Caldecott people could find in 2017? They do know that that's what this award is for, don't they?
I had written about the art in my initial review, but having talked to a co-worker, I now know what the issue is for me. It's as if Cordell has 2 different styles here. The people and the backgrounds look sort of like John Burningham's art.The backgrounds are pixelated and the people are awkwardly posed and lumpy, only Burningham manages to pull that off--perhaps because his books aren't wordless, but have lovely deadpan prose? Meanwhile the wolves are naturalistic and realistic and look like they came out of another book. It just doesn't work as a whole!
Yet another medal winner that supports my belief that the Caldecott committees are made up of people who don't seem to get that these awards are given to KIDS books. They are so taken up in their personal love for these books (read the review of a Big Name Blogger who goes on about this) that the kid appeal factor, that special spark that will make a book loved by GENERATIONS of children, is totally ignored.
A mostly wordless picture book that is surprisingly scary. The artwork does a wonderful job conveying emotion. The only text is onomatopoeia -- grr, howl, etc. The story involves a young girl finding a wolf cub in the woods. When she gets lost, the wolf family protects her and leads her family to her location with their howls. It's a cute story of "friendship and trust" according to the blurb, but I don't like books where, in reality, it probably wouldn't work out this way at all. That girl would be wolf food.
I just love Wolf in the Snow. It may be my favorite Matthew Cordell title. A little girl gets lost in the snow. A wolf cub gets lost in the snow. They cross paths. He howls; his pack howls back. They keep howling for the cub like a beacon. What does the girl do? The book is about the strength you find within, courage and more. Love the inspirational text. A compassionate and lovely book.