Posted on: 29/09/2020
Bridges feature widely in idiomatic language: we speak of ‘crossing that bridge when we come to it’. In education we may plan for ‘bridging a gap’ in learning and ‘building bridges’ is a term used for making amends, re-connecting … a term used in the idiomatic sense that we feel is fairly apt for the situation in which we currently live. ‘Air-bridge’ is a newly coined Covid-19 term to describe the link between one country and another where quarantining following a visit isn’t necessary. Distinctive and sometimes iconic features of our skyline, bridges are often featured in literature: the bridge in the eponymous 1986 work by Iain Banks forms the setting for most of the novel; the bridge between one world and the next in Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials creates a portal between one world and another and Wordsworth’s poem, Composed upon Westminster Bridge, provides a vantage point for looking down The Thames at ‘The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,…’ Adapting to our surroundings - to change isn’t a new ‘thing’ for the human race yet perhaps more so than ever before, we are all having to keep adapting and adjusting to an ever-shifting picture. We need to strengthen and hold on to what we already have whilst also beginning to rebuild. The piecing together; the literal and metaphorical bridge-building and restoration that we now need carry out whilst keeping going in a situation that’s far from over will leave us not with exactly what we had before but a re-imagined skyline. And so we turn to literature to help us construct these bridges and support the children we teach adapt and adjust and see the joy that there still very much is present in the world.
Written at the peak of the March lockdown, Roberts performed a recording of the poem that went viral and we were lucky to be gifted a signed copy of a hardback illustrated edition. This offering of hope has been translated into over 20 languages worldwide and – wrapped in paper with artist’s Nomoco water-colour design, replete with seed-packet and water-colour print, what a treat it was to receive!
The poet – forced to move in with his dad having had all his freelance work cancelled – found himself home-schooling and cooking for his younger siblings whilst writing this piece. Written as a bedtime story from the future about what happened during the pandemic of 2020, it is about needing this ‘pause’ and that we must readjust and reconnect with each other and our earth and see the situation as an opportunity to do so. Greed, consumerism, a ‘throw-away’ culture where We filled the sea with plastic, ‘cause our waste was never capped. Until each day when you went fishing, you’d pull them out already wrapped; the need for instant gratification, climate change and the supposed connectivity we have through technology are all tackled from a lovely play on the date of this year, Back before we understood why hindsight’s 2020. The poet openly acknowledges how privileged he is and states that he ‘can’t pretend to have had an unbearable lockdown’ but rather that he wanted to offer hope and comfort that we do have a future and that maybe – just maybe – it’ll be a good one: Old habits became extinct and they made way for the new. And every simple act of kindness was now given its due… A bridge between the present and the future, perhaps?
We think that this would be a perfect book to use for children of all ages in school or via virtual means to support dialogue around coping with the situation.
Fans of all-things steampunk, mechanicals and adventure stories with the derring- do of plucky female protagonists found in Peter Bunzl’s Cogheart series and Alex Bell’s Polar Bear Explorer series will adore this new offering from author Vashti Hardy.
The Griffin family are an emergency service of sorts and the story’s main protagonist, 13 year old Grace Griffin, is desperately waiting to be deemed old enough by her mother to become a warden of the map. She trains in earnest with faithful yet occasionally patronising Watson: a talking mechanical bird who - rather like one of those slightly terrifying toys where you can create recordings so that a ‘pet’ repeats what’s been said in a squeaky voice- records Grace’s mum’s ‘many warden rules’. But when Grace – left alone one day- disobeys her mother’s instruction and disappears into the map to rescue someone in trouble, she finds that it has been an elaborate ruse to trap her… but why? What do her captors want of her? And will she be able to travel from one world to another or will she remain stuck, the unbridged gap between her and all that she knows wide and impossible to traverse, unable to save all that her family have ever worked for?
Printed on dyslexia-friendly paper, this is the perfect book for children in lower key stage 2 keen on adventure and travel of the mind into other lands.
Moving, honest and raw in places, this is a novel that will evoke a visceral reaction. It describes the seemingly unbridgeable distance between two brothers, Frank - aged 10 and neurotypical - and Max - 5 and autistic. The guilt that Frank experiences over his brother and how different he feels he is, is heart-rending. Frank doesn’t get the attention that he needs from his parents but his parents are really struggling to cope with Max’s needs too. Then - as they tend to do in books like this – things take a dramatic turn: there are hushed whispers; the boys’ mother is sick; there are hospital visits and then comes the fateful day. This happens not at the end of the book, but 2/3 of the way in. And as the boys and their father adjust to life without the children’s mother, Frank begins to build a bridge between the world in which he exists and the world into which his brother Max appears locked. Max begins to flourish at his new school and Frank develops the courage to wear his heart on his sleeve and be proud of his brother Max. Ultimately, it is the love of their mother and a beautiful painting - half-finished- that she leaves as a legacy that creates the stronger structure into the distance from which they move together. Illustrated with the hauntingly beautiful charcoal drawings of Laura Carlin (illustrator of the Ironman by Ted Hughes and The Promise by Nicola Davies) these only serve to make the book all the more moving.
This is a beautiful, poignant read filled with adults who are willing to give of themselves emotionally. Themes of grief, shame, fear and guilt are sensitively handled. Ideal for children in year 6 and up who may be experiencing similar emotions.
We adored Belyaev’s book, How does a Lighthouse Work? and this new book, translated by Ruth Ahmedzai Kemp is every bit as well-written. With his distinctive palette of red, yellow and blue, the author has presented us with a sleek and stylish look at bridges. The origins of the word, ‘bridge’; types of bridges; how bridges are built; famous bridge-builders and some of the world’s most iconic bridges are explored, providing us with a window to the world in a time where we cannot easily venture that far. There are record-breaking bridges such as the Akashi Kaikyō bridge in Japan: the longest spanning bridge at 6,532 feet. There are so-called ‘ecoducts’ such as crab bridge on Christmas Island, built as a safe migration route for red crabs, and living roots bridges in India where the roots of the rubber trees lining the banks of a river are coaxed around a man-made structure… not a fast construction process though seeing as it can take 10-15 years for such a bridge to reach to the opposite bank! And there is reference to bridges in mythology where worlds of mortals are joined to spirit-worlds, accessed by magical bridges.
Such a great book to have in class to support science, geography and a host of other subjects especially if using the planning sequence for Rosie Revere, Engineer in year 2.
Long awaited picture book from animal-obsessed author Nicola Davies, Last is a poignant reminder of what the natural world faces in terms of extinction of its creatures. A young white Rhino is taken into captivity and is quite alone. He’s been taken from all that he knows including his mama. We see a young girl and a father depicted in a zoo-like setting walking across a bridge, looking down upon the captive animals where there is only one of each left. But then Sudan is released back into the wild and there he meets another, She is not mama. But she smells beautiful.
Based on the true story of a rhino, named Sudan, who was captured just age 2 in 1975 with five other rhinos and taken to the Czech Republic, this is a story of believing that we can find a way back to how things once were; believing that no matter how futile something might seem, we must always still try.
A gorgeous book that would work well for children in reception and year 1, this is likely to evoke deep discussion around what the children themselves can do to support conservation.
