A young boy is forced to leave his homeland, sailing away in a rowboat with a book, a bottle and a blanket as well as a teacup full of some earth where he used to play. The boy’s journey is long, sometimes dangerous when the sea is wild, other times tranquil, when the sea is also calm, and always holding tight to his teacup of earth from home. He continually looks for land in the distance, a place to call home, again, but sees nothing in the distance, but is comforted by the song of whales and the flight of an albatross.
Eventually, a tree begins to spout from his teacup, growing into a tree that provides shelter, shade, and apples to eat. When land is finally spotted, the boy plants his tree there and begins to built. And then, one day, a girl shows up with an eggcup full of earth from her home.
Matt Ottley’s pale, almost opaque illustrations have a dreamlike quality to them. They are done in a palette of blues, ranging from almost a whitish blue to a darker, more menacing blue when the sea gets rough and sky becomes overcast. It is only as the boy approaches land that greens and yellows are added to the blues.
This allegorical story can be read in different ways, as a journey from childhood to adolescence to adulthood, which seems a little young for a picture book. It can also be read as the journey one takes into the unknown whenever they are faced with new beginnings. I read it as the plight of refugees forced to leave their beloved homeland, and seek a new home where they can put down roots. Whichever you read it, Teacup is an allegorical story about the difficulty and the loneliness felt on a long journey, and one's eventual assimilation into their new circumstances without forgetting where they came from.