Watered-down tale

I AM a Libby Hathorn fan. I have been one ever since I read her bestselling novel, Thunderwith in 1996. It was named "Best Book for Young Adults" in the United States in 1991, and adopted as a textbook by many Australian schools.

Hathorn is an Australian who is proud of her heritage. And a former teacher-librarian who has consciously crusaded for the right of her country's children to have a literature that speaks to them, for them. She has over 20 titles to her credit.

Thunderwith is a timeless tale about young Lara, who has to adapt to her father's new family after the death of her mother. Pitted against a hostile stepmother, Lara explores her inner world in the company of her secret canine friend, Thunderwith, amidst the untamed Australian bush and the wild seashore. Bush verse and vignettes from the Dreamtime stories of the Aborigines unravel spontaneously into the thicket of Lara's adventures. Hathorn's novel is a dazzling display of narrative virtuosity, coupled with sensitive insights into the young mind.

Later, I read a more recent Hathorn novel for young adults, The Climb. Its protagonist, Peter, is caught in the bleak ethos of a totalitarian state, between the pincers of his father's principled stand and his mother's instinct for survival. Peer pressure threatens to squash his gentle dreams until his love for the elusive, oppressed Maya drives him to scale a cordoned-off highrise building during curfew hours in a near-suicidal climb. Hathorn captures the angst of the adolescent boy perfectly.

I visited the Libby Hathorn website a few weeks ago, and thrilled to her online weeks ago, and thrilled to her online novel, The Wishing Cupboard, which uses cutting edge technical devices to unravel Vietnamese folklore and facts. I marvelled at Hathorn's receptive mind and her capacity to transform the mundane into the magical. What an entrancing experience it proved to be!

I was sure I would have reason to celebrate Libby Hathorn again when A Face in the Water

was launched in India this year. Her concept seemed perfect. A fusion of the past and present, reality and fantasy, from a child's eye view, through the story of the Taj Mahal, remoulded for young readers across the globe.

Young Pearl visits the Taj Mahal with her parents and younger brother, Jasper. As she looks at her own reflection in a pool of water, she finds a friend. It's Goharara, Emperor Shah Jahan's youngest daughter, who narrates the story behind the mausoleum. She's visible only to Pearl.

Given a gifted storyteller and a luminous concept, I anticipated another glimpse of Hathorn's brilliance. But I was disappointed this time. The writing does not exactly flow through the waters of time. The narrative is uneven, and sparkles in fits and starts. The rendition lacks energy and spontaneity, as if inadequate imagination and sensitivity had been invested in it. That is puzzling, because these are qualities ingrained in the essential Hathorn. The duller passages read like this:

Inside was dim and the marble cool under bare feet. In the miracle-of-marble screen that surrounded the resting places of the famous Empress and Emperor, Pearl saw flowers. She saw marvellous ivory garlands of tulips and fuchsias. She saw fantastic mosaics of topaz and turquoise, porphyry and lapis lazuli. It was like a garden.

This is a story that calls for a light touch with its key elements - mystery, human bonding, time travel, wonder. I cannot quite pinpoint why it does not work. Perhaps it is too slow paced. Perhaps the characters are not imbued with enough personality. Perhaps the wondrous baseline is not explored with adequate magic. Perhaps the pesky photographer has too pivotal a role.

The Taj Mahal story, so often dulled with retelling in lacklustre history textbooks, could have been vintage Hathorn. That would have made it a classic for all time. In its present format, it could interest young readers overseas. But it would have only limited appeal for an Indian child.

Let me place the book in today's Indian context. A Face in the Water is superior to many children's books on our shelves. Yet I lament the superb text that was inherent in it but never materialised. Hathorn's book did grow on me at a third reading, but will any child give it a second chance?

Uma Krishnaswamy's illustrations illuminate the tale. Her incandescent style, which combines elements of the Mughal school with barely-featured abstract faces for the grey-toned contemporary characters, communicates well.

I wish this hardcover book had been better bound, though. My copy began to fall apart at the very first perusal, and the visuals were ill-matched at the joints.

I still wonder if this book about the power of love to transcent time could have been among the best by Libby Hathorn. I am looking forward to the next title by her. When will her other books be available to Indian children? I remain a Hathorn fan despite A Face in the Water.

ADITI DE

A Face In The Water, Libby Hathorn, Illustrated by Uma Krishnaswamy, Tulika, p. 30, Rs. 250 (Hardbound), Rs. 150 (Paperback).

Send this article to Friends by E-Mail

Section  : Features
Previous : First Impression
Next     : Prison and punishment