Zoom is a wordless picture book that defies the familiar conventions of storytelling in favor of a playful critique of individual perspective. The reader begins the experience by opening to a rather plain title page that contains the title, the author/illustrator’s names, and the publisher against a black background. The only other image on the page is the white outline of a pencil that seems to hover against the darkness, a shadow image in the depths of space.
From there, the book comes to a series of full bleed openings, where on the recto side of the opening is a vibrantly colorful image and on the verso side is a blank, black page. The first image reveals a series of jagged, red spikes to the reader. (The reminded me of the ridges on the back of a desert lizard.) As the reader proceeds to the next opening, their expectations of the image are defied, as the reds spikes are revealed to be the comb atop a roster’s head. Each opening proceeds apace with the reader making an assumption about the image—well, this must be a painting of a roster because the background is white—only to realize their mistake at the next turn—nope, that’s a rooster standing on a fence in front of a white wall.
As the reader continues, the nature of the book invites them to explore unconventional guesses as they slowly zoom out of the original image. Having already zoomed out from one advertisement, the reader begins to speculate about what text they will be drawn from next time. This self-referentiality prevents the reader from suspending the realistic world. Instead, it keeps the reader involved as an active participant in constructing the text. You are not allowed to sit back and simply consume this book. It forces you to think about it the entire time.
Clever in its simplicity, this book gives a true sense of a world within a world and reminds the reader that all printed images are snapshots of events that really did happen somewhere at some time. As an instructional tool, Zoom might be useful in teaching readers to look for details and to examine things closely before making assumptions. In fact, closer inspection of the image progression reveals clues that the reader might not notice in the first read through. Each picture sequence is colorized with particular atmospheric details in mind. For example, the roster’s comb and the white wall behind his head are speckled with colors that seem out of sorts with the setting. Some of these speckles even overlap the images of the roster and the wall, showing them to actually be a single flat image (a magazine advertisement).
This being said, after several large “reveals,” I became disappointed because all of the zoom outs continued to bring the reader out of another printed medium. Only the final reveal leaves the printed world behind.
As the book comes to an end, the blank, black pages on the verso side of each opening are revealed to function in two ways. First, the lack of design or color allows the reader to focus their attention on the color “zoomed” image. Second, when the final zoom occurs and the reader is taken to the final Google-Earth-like conclusion, the black panels metaphorically encompass the reader in the darkness of space. Earth is shown to be just as small as the initial image of the roster’s comb in the scheme of things.