A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

You walk into a bedroom. At first nothing seems amiss; a cool summer breeze wafts through the window, lifting and fluttering the filmy curtains. Everything is orderly and the top of the dresser is polished to an efficient shine. Then you notice the wallpaper. On it is printed a very pretty design of doves superimposed over curling vines. But why is one of the birds missing? To your amazement, you watch as a second dove slowly peels itself from the wall and flies out the window...

Or perhaps you are in your kitchen baking. You decide to bake a pie using the perfect pumpkin that you bought at a farmstand this afternoon. Placing it on the counter, you pick up a knife and prepare to slice it up. However, as you lower the knife, the pumpkin begins to glow. It glows brighter and brighter and brighter...

Welcome to the World or Harris Burdick. This picture book, written by Chris Van Allsburg (of Polar Express fame, among many others...), is comprised of fourteen haunting illustrations. Each is accompanied by a title and a short caption. The drawings, all in black in white and painstakingly detailed, do not (at least, they don't seem to) go together to form a story. Instead, each drawing and caption begin a story, and it is up to you, the reader, to imagine the rest.

According to the introduction at the beginning of the book, the story goes that a children's book publisher named Peter Wenders met a man named Harris Burdick thirty years ago. Mr. Burdick told Mr. Wenders that he had written fourteen stories, and that he had brought one illustration from each story, to see if Mr. Wenders liked them. Mr. Burdick left the drawings with Mr. Wenders with the promise that he would bring the stories back the very next day.

However, he never returned.

Mr. Wenders was left with fourteen of the most fascinating and mysterious drawings he had ever seen- without any clue as to the accompanying stories.

Some of the illustrations are humorous:

In one, an agitated-looking man holds a dining room chair aloft over his head, ready to throw it at a lump under the rug, as tables and lamps fly askew. The title and caption read, "Under the Rug. Two weeks passed and it happened again."

In the picture titled "The Seven Chairs," we are taken to a scene in a cathedral in which two monks stare puzzledly, yet calmly, above their heads. What is there? A nun, also calm, whose chair seems to have levitated her fifteen feet into the air. The caption reads, "The fifth one ended up in France."

Some of the illustrations are scary:

In "Mr. Linden's Library," a young girl sleeps peacefully in her bed, seemingly unaware that the book she carelessly left lying open is sprouting vines. The plant seems to be growing out of the center of the book, curling its stems over the sides and onto the bed. The caption reads, "He had warned her about the book. Now it was too late."

Some of the illustrations are mysterious:

"A Strange Day in July" features two children, their backs to us as they skip stones into a sparkling lake. The picture itself seems innocent, but the caption is intriguing: "He threw with all his might, but the third stone came skipping back."

Or in "Archie Smith, Boy Wonder," a boy sleeps peacefully in his bed. Through the window float a number of glowing orbs, somewhat like large fireflies. The caption reads, "A tiny voice asked, 'Is he the one?'"

All of the pictures are dark, mysterious, and intriguing. It is difficult to look at any of them without imagining stories or endings to go with them.

Every year I use this book with my fourth graders to inspire them to write mystery stories. (For any teachers out there, this project would be appropriate for fourth through sixth graders, or maybe even older). I start by showing them the illustrations and reading the captions out loud. As I turn each page, there are always gasps and "oooooo"s, followed by chatter as the kids tell each other what they think the drawing means. I then have the kids write mystery stories based on the illustrations, and even my most reluctant writers rush back to their seats to begin their stories. It is really not possible NOT to be inspired by this book.

I would not recommend this book to children under about second or third grade- some of the pictures are just too creepy, and might inspire nightmares.

I will leave you with one final image: In "Oscar and Alphonse," a girl stands in a meadow beside a forest, with the setting sun illuminating one side of her face. Her expression is enigmatic as she studies two wooly bear caterpillars in the palm of her hand. "She knew it was time to send them back. The caterpillars softly wiggled in her hand, spelling out 'goodbye'."