One of School Library Journal’s Best Nonfiction Books of 2011
One of Horn Book’s Best Nonfiction Books of 2011
As a child, Claire Nivola loved summers in Orani, the village where her father grew up and where her many aunts, uncles, and 50 cousins still lived. She ran freely through the town's cobbled streets with packs of cousins, who quizzed her about America while she took in all the simple joys and pleasures of daily life in a village where surprises met them at every turn.
In this sensuous homage of prose and pictures, Nivola invites readers to share in her experience of Orani, a village where surprises met them at every turn and luxuries were unheard of, but life was rich, lived close to the earth.
Claire Nivola writes: “I was born in 1947 in New York City. When I was a year old my parents bought an old farmhouse in The Springs on Long Island—the seashore town that appears in Elisabeth (FSG). The “country,” as it still was then; animals; being read to; and reading were among the passions of my childhood. The daughter of an artist father and mother, I drew and sculpted from earliest childhood and took art for granted, like breathing and walking. I was also a conscientious student. After attending Radcliffe College, where I majored in history and literature, I stayed in the Boston area for ten years. Soon after graduating, in 1970, I illustrated my first children’s book. My father had been asked by Fabio Coen, head of children’s books at Pantheon and a fellow Italian, if he would illustrate The Disobedient Eels and Other Italian Tales by Maria Cimino. My father gave the job to me. Over the next eight years, Fabio Coen asked me to illustrate The Messy Rabbit, written by my mother Ruth Nivola, and Save the Earth by Betty Miles, a book on ecology whose editor, a young woman named Frances Foster, was in the office next door at Knopf. During those years I also tried my hand at mural painting and graphic design, and occasionally exhibited my paintings and sculptures in private and group shows. I did all this as an extension of how I had grown up, with little idea of building a career.
“In 1980 I moved back to Manhattan and joined the art department at Newsweek magazine. In 1982 I married, a year later my son was born, and three years after that, my daughter. Being a mother absorbed my heart and intellect. Unlike many of my contemporaries, I stayed home with my children and did little work of my own. When they were older, in 1992, as a rare exception, I took on a commission for fifty-three bas-relief panels telling the story of man’s changing relationship to the Tennessee River for the Chattanooga Aquarium. I worked on a raised table in the playroom off the kitchen after my children went to bed at night and my children often commented on panels before they were shipped out for casting.
“In 1994, great good fortune chanced to put me back in touch with Frances Foster, now, twenty years later, a revered children’s book editor. I illustrated for her Tell Me a Real Adoption Story (Knopf) by Betty Jean Lifton, and since she has moved to Farrar, Straus & Giroux with her own imprint, we have worked together on four more books: Elisabeth, my telling of my mother’s story of her childhood doll; The Mouse of Amherst (FSG) by Elizabeth Spires, and my own two books, The Forest (FSG) and Planting the Trees of Kenya: The Story of Wangari Maathai Amherst (FSG) Frances has been my invaluable friend and inspiration.
“In recent years, I have also worked with publishers in Boston, illustrating The Friday Nights of Nana by Amy Hest for Candlewick Press, and for Houghton Mifflin, The Flag Maker by Susan Campbell Bartoletti and The Silent Witness by Robin Friedman.
“Having spent many years reading, often more than once, the books I loved as a child to my own children, and discovering new ones, my appreciation for the best of children’s literature has only grown. Writing for children is a serious business. Even if the result is to delight one’s small readers, the words and images are destined to become a vivid and lasting part of a child’s live experience.”
The personal family history as picture book is an interesting little subgenre. It’s been in the American picture book roster for years, dating back at least as far as Robert Lawson’s 1940 Caldecott winner They Were Strong and Good. Generally speaking, the American picture book memoir tends to focus on families that have immigrated to the States. Dan Yacarrino’s All the Way to America is a good example of this. The nice thing about Claire A. Nivola’s Orani: My Father’s Village is that it goes the other way. The American immigrant and his family return to the old country on a regular basis and his daughter, now grown, recounts what it was like to have a place like Sardinia visit. The result is a strangely haunting, heady look at a microcosm of birth, death, marriage, and strife shrunk down to a size just perfect for a child.
When Claire was a kid she and her family would travel back to Sardinia, her father’s birthplace, and visit with friends and relatives in the village of Orani. There, a small girl could see a whole host of wonders. From tiny lizards sunning themselves in the sun to tethered goats and donkeys. There were funerals and weddings, babies and corpses, figs and flies, new bread and dances. Eventually the family would have to return home to New York City and the child would look around and wonder. Does every immigrant have an Orani of their own somewhere?
Does nostalgia make for good children’s literature? Only when there’s a point to it above and beyond satiating the author’s fancy. A clever personal story should contain some historical hook that’s both informative and interesting to the child reader. William Stieg’s When Everybody Wore a Hat may be one of the more perfect examples of this. Orani has an advantage of its own since the story is a kind of child fantasy. Kids today are often watched and guarded and kept close at hand by their anxious guardians. The charm of Orani then is that it offers a kind of modern day child fantasy. Imagine that there was an island where you could run around all day with other kids, exploring and visiting and you were always safe. With bandits. Nivola succeeds in making a story that is accurate to her memories but that also could really appeal to kids. No small feat.
In an odd way, the book this really reminded me the most of was Donald Hall’s Caldecott winning Ox-Cart Man with illustrations by Barbara Cooney. Nivola’s style is distinctly Cooney-esque (whatever that may mean). There’s a seeming simplicity to her images. And I loved that Claire gives her main character a red dress, allowing the reader the chance to pick her out in one scene or another. The feel of Orani is captured in these pages, leaving the reader with no doubt that the author speaks the truth when she says at the end of the book “I continue to go back to Orani.” Curiously, there is only one problematic picture in the title, and it isn’t even of Orani itself. The story takes place in the 1950s, which is all well and good. However, the last image we see of our heroine shows her standing on a crowded New York City street with a host of different kinds of people. All well and good except that the people are clearly contemporary. There’s a woman in pants and a man with cornrows and jeans. Because Nivola is mentioning how every immigrant may have an Orani of their own, the picture could be interpreted as symbolic and I’m fine with that. However, the facing page, and last image in the book, throws us right back into the 1950s. It’s a small inconsistency in an otherwise outstanding title.
As for the writing, it’s more evocative than you might expect. I loved some of the descriptions here. How bread dough makes sounds, “like a plump baby being playfully slapped.” Or when she returns home to New York City and sees the people from all over the world, “I wondered, what Orani of their own might they have known before they traveled here?” There isn’t a “plot” per say, to the book but rather a simple recounting of all that there is to do and see. The tone for this flows. It doesn’t read like a rote series of remembrances, nor an overly sentimentalized recounting of one’s youth. Instead it is a collection of straightforward memories that use language beautifully.
Another thing I like about the book is that it isn’t all sunshine and roses in Orani. One of the first things Nivola does with the book is mention the good things about the island (wild scented thyme, tiny goats, fruit that “tasted like the fruit of paradise”) alongside the dark (nettles, scorpions, “and bandits who stole sheep and sometimes kidnapped people”). Once we’re in Orani itself most of what Claire describes is entirely pleasant. Yet there are moments that acknowledge the darker side of life. While in a tree eating figs one of Claire’s cousins asks her if she’s ever seen a dead body. Next thing you know they’re climbing the steps to a room where a body lies “rigid and white and cold with the unspeakable strangeness of death.” In her Author’s Note, Nivola says that Orani for her contained both tragedy and joy, “but they happened in a contained place, among family and neighbors, where everyone knew and cared, so that as a child I could comprehend and feel that each part fit into life’s whole.” So too does this book take birth, marriage, death, and place such life altering moments in a context small enough for a child reader to understand. Nivola is replicating her childhood experience for children today.
Some of criticized the fact that the book sets no event in Orani above another. Viewing a corpse bears as much page space as finding a fledgling. Personally, I think that is one of the great strengths of the book. Everything in Nivola’s memory contains similar weight. Children will be able to apply their own set of criteria and judge what is and isn’t important to them accordingly. What’s important to me, though, is that the writing in this picture book is superb and that goes for the pictures as well. More than just a simple recounting of a time long past, the book sparks something in the reader. Nivola’s images and words will now serve to become part of the memories of her young readers. And on and on it goes.
The sense of place--warm and particular--Nivola evokes is palpable, and contrasts very effectively with the busy gray city scene on the last page.
The last paragraph, where a child Nivola wonders if everyone she sees in the city has their own "Orani," their own special place somewhere else in the world, is such a marvelous way of helping a young child to stretch the boundaries of their own world.
Audience: preschool and up, boys, and girls Appeal: This book has large and interesting pictures in it depicting the differences between Orani and America. This book also reads more like a story than an informational text, so I would say it could be considered fast-paced as far as nonfiction books go. Children will be able to relate to the narrator in Orani. This book came from the School Library Journal Best Non-Fiction 2011 list.
There is something very nice about a picture book that an adult can read on his/her own level and a child can still enjoy, just like when I watched Bugs Bunny with my dad as a child. He had seen them in the movies as a boy and still enjoyed them with me as a parent.
Claire Nivola had me with Planting the Trees of Kenya and I have been a fan ever since. She has a beautiful style of illustration that is both detailed and warm at the same time. Her pictures make me feel like she chose every single brush stroke with absolute care and forethought. I feel this way too about her words: the first page serves as a beautifully worded introduction to her father's home. There is a very well-written author's note which describes the changes that have occurred in the village over the years. This too can be shared with children.
This book is wonderful in the sense that it relates (from an adult's perspective) how a child saw the world in all its joys and sorrows and magic moments - like seeing lizards lying in the sun or eating tree-ripened fruit. There are the touchier moments as well, seeing a dead body is part of the story. However these are dealt with as a part of life and in this teacher-librarian's opinion make the story real and memorable to younger children. What great discussions might be had after a read-aloud with this book. I feel somehow satisfied after having read about Orani and I'd like to see it for myself.
With incredibly detailed illustrations and carefully chosen words, the author of Planting the Trees of Kenya takes readers to a village in Sardinia where her father grew up. After he and his wife emigrated to the United States, he took his family back to the island as often as possible. This picture book describes with obvious fondness the connection Claire A. Nivola still feels for the village and its citizens. Readers will feel as though they are racing the cobbled streets, drinking the mountain-fed fountain water, tasting the delicious foods that filled the tables, and learning about death. The reluctance with which the author left the village is palpable, and it's clear that she still feels torn. An Author's Note provides additional information about the village and her family, causing readers to ponder a way of life that no longer exists, preserved in the pages of this exquisite book.
I liked this book because It introduced the past culture of an Italian village. The author's (native of New York) father grew up in this village and the author frequently visited. She quickly grew to realize that the culture within this village is MUCH different than her "home" culture of New York.
She...: - introduces the stages of life and death and her understanding of the two -depicts the close community of the Italian people -difference in human contact between New York and the Italian Village
I would use this book in a unit of exploring other cultures. I would definitely use this in the upper elementary grades (4th,5th,6th) because the information is meaty and the storyline more than likely will not be captivating for a younger audience.
This lovely book paints a picture of of a small village on the island of Sardinia in the author's childhood summers, a place where children play in the streets, hear the women gathering early on hot mornings to bake bread, celebrate a wedding for 3 days and see a dead body in someones home for a funeral. The author says in a note at the end that this place doesn't exist anymore, but has racing cars in the narrow streets and children inside with their electronic gadgets. But what a glorious ode this book is to those summers, with stunning visuals of the white stucco, red roofs, and cobbled streets, animals roaming, and the smells and sounds of community everywhere.
Author Claire Nivola often spent her summers in Orani, a small village surrounded by mountains in the country of Sardina, an island in the Mediterranean Sea between Europe and Africa. For many years Orani was untouched by the expanding progressive way of life that much of the rest of the world was swept up in, and remained a close-knit community that centered on family and friends. This story focuses on that simpler period of time. The authors notes in the afterward give a detailed account of how the town has changed over the years.
This beautiful autobiographical account tracks the deep lodging of seeds of affection of a young girl for her family's geographical roots on the island of Sardinia. The book resonates with the sense of home that her father's hometown took on for her, and the illustrations capture the sense of place and relationships with uncles, aunts, and cousins. Especially powerful is the contrast to her New York City home and then more recently the change of the small town itself. The endnotes add depth and background to the account.
Not truly a biography, but close enough to qualify as such on my shelves. I'm not going to try to give a summary, because that won't really do this book justice. I suppose one could call this an episodic picture book, if such a thing exists, because the book is full of experiences that are interconnected by the place, time and people involved. If you (or a child you know) are/is a fan of maps and/or romantically old-fashioned Mediterranean towns, this book is for you.
This is one of those books that pulls you into a very specific place, making it come alive through both text and illustrations. Inspired by the author's experiences of visiting her father's birthplace in Sardinia, it wraps together the sense of being a child with the particular sense of place. Reading it over several times lets you absorb all the details in the illustrations and immerse youself in the story.
A beautifully told and illustrated book. The narrator spends the summers with her extended family in Orani, Sardinia. The story is set in the recent past, perhaps the 1960s. A great way to teach cultural understanding and to help build an understanding of how others live. Recommended for grades 4 - 5.
A beautiful look at Claire Nivola's childhood visits to Orani, the tiny Sardinian village where her father was born. The author's note and lovingly created illustrations show her deep emotional connection to this special place.
I liked the page where she returns to New York after a visit and wonders if the other strangers she sees on the street have an Orani of their own.
A picture book for older readers or for families to share together. It's about a small girl who visits her fathers hometown of Orani, Sicily every summer. Beautiful pictures detail dancing in the town square, seeing a dead man at a funeral (not as scary as it sounds,) the ladies baking bread and much more.
Saw this on a Mock Caldecott list, so I wanted to check it out. 3rd graders read Nivola's Planting the Trees of Kenya and LOVED it. I liked the story and illustrations ok, but then was totally struck by the last page, a full page painting of New York City. I would hang that on my wall. (And I'm not even especially partial to NYC)
This book depicts a young girl who visits her fathers village after they have moved to the United States. It shows the culture of his village and the difference between it and the US. The pictures do a great job of depicting the differences between the two also. This would be a great book for children to read who have parents or family who are from other countries.
This book is all about a family visiting their home town in Italy called Orani. Its a beautiful, quaint town located in the valley. The neighborhood is close knit and everyone knows each other. It also talked about how different the two cities of NYC and Orani were from one another and how the little girl wants to go back
I think kids will like this. It is very nostalgic. I love the art work and I love how the author gets across the feel, atmosphere, and place of a small Italian village. It may be that this book is not just for children.
A colorful look at a small Sardinian village a half century ago. It captures a certain quality and pace of life there, showing joyous celebrations and mournful rituals. The art is fairly interesting as well.
I really liked this episodic and beautifully illustrated look at life in a Sardinian village. While there isn't much of a story, it paints a lovely picture of life in a bygone era and strongly reminded me of the work of Tasha Tudor in A Gathering of Days, one of my childhood favorites.
I liked this book because it is a great way for students to learn about other cultures. Students can learn that other students are from different places in the world and how they are different and similar to other cultures. This book has both good pictures and text.
Beautiful illustrations perfectly depict life in the mediterranean. This book tells how the author remembers the village of Orani when she visited with her family. This is more than a remembrance to her father, it is a tribute to simpler time that embraces family and tradition.
My favorite part of this book was the illustrations. I loved them! I thought the book was interesting to read. However, because of the way it is written it is definitely more appropriate for older children.
The author created a lovely story about the village her father grew up in before moving from the Mediterranean to the US. It's a story about family and life much more simple and down-to-earth. Lovely illustrations.
I would never move from such a place. But sad to note in the end pages how that village has changed with tv, computers, and autos...it seems to be inevitable but sad.