I found this book tucked away in a used bookstore, hidden among other picture books. What a lucky gem of a find. I’ve read several Clyde Robert Bulla titles and enjoyed them, but this one felt special. It follows a young boy named Torr, abandoned by his mother and taken in by a miller and his wife. Forbidden to sing, he slips into the deep woods to lift his voice to the moon. When word of his gift reaches the queen, he’s brought to the palace as her personal songbird, only to discover he cannot sing on command.
The story reads like a true folktale, with that “long ago and far away” atmosphere Bulla handled so well. A great deal unfolds in just a few pages, yet nothing feels rushed. I loved how the narrative centers a child who doesn’t quite fit the world around him, and how his creativity, his voice, becomes something sacred. There are no villains, no violence, no heavy-handed morals here. Instead, the tone is soft, melancholy, and deeply humane. Bulla’s prose is spare and swift, but remarkably easy to absorb.
And the illustrations...wow! Trina Schart Hyman’s full color artwork is stunning. Even if the plot fades for the reader, the images will stay with you. Though the book is longer than a typical picture book, it remains engaging and vibrant, offering surprising layers of character and emotion. You finish it feeling as though you’ve watched a small, beautifully rendered film. At its heart is a timeless theme of a child’s inner life and wellbeing standing in quiet defiance of the demands of the adult world.