Nighttime imaginings and musings unspool at the precipice of sleep.
In bed, João, an abstract figure who appears entirely black or white on various pages, tugs at his homemade blanket, submerged in his thoughts. “ ‘So it’s just me now,’ he thinks, ‘alone with myself?’ ” Before long, his imagination wanders as he slips into sleep. The ever changing blanket, it seems, becomes the canvas for his unnamed doubts and uncertainties, his unchecked fantasies and figments. Set against lakes of striking deep red and black, the threads of the blanket weave and stretch into different shapes and symbols, echoing Mello’s whimsical text (translated from Portuguese by Hahn) in all its compelling allure. At the book’s core, João’s bedtime reveries wed a simple premise with magnificent possibilities. Over several pages, readers consider João’s blanket as it flutters as if in the wind, trembles under the fidgety feet of its drowsy owner, and strains against “a fish that’s bigger than us.” A passing reference to a father who “goes out fishing” hints at a source of João’s ruminations. Soon, João wakes with a question: “Who unraveled my blanket?” To return to his dreams, João threads together words strewn across the floor into a “word-blanket” more fanciful than ever. Evocative in its execution, this Brazilian import invites readers to ponder the scenarios it casts (and those it doesn’t). (This book was reviewed digitally.)
A moody, ingenious masterstroke.
(Picture book. 5-10)