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Summary
Summary
This is a charming, touching story about an imaginative boy whose best friend is an oak tree named Bertolt. The boy admits to being an outlier among his peers, but insists that while he is alone, he is never lonely. Being independent suits him, and he considers his difference to be his advantage.
This book is about the imagination and the wonderful ways in which we nurture ourselves in the process of becoming who we are, and because Bertolt dies in a winter's storm, it is also a book about finitude and loss, sorrow and acceptance.
Jacques Goldstyn was born in 1958 in Saint-Eugène Argentenay. A graduate of the University of Montreal, he worked in petroleum geology. In 1981, he illustrated his first book: Les Débrouillards , a collection with a scientific bent. He has illustrated numerous books about the same cast of characters, and works with the press as well.
Author Notes
Jacques Goldstyn was born and raised in Montreal. His father taught him how to draw and he drew all the time. Every single day. He then studied seriously, became a geologist and went off to work in gold mines in Abitibi and in the petroleum industry in Alberta. But then, one day, he started to draw again. For many years now, his work has been drawing cartoons for Les Débrouillards and Les Explorateurs, science youth magazines in French Canada. He also writes and illustrates stories for kids age six to 106. He loves running, hiking, and climbing trees, and has never stopped collecting bizarre looking rocks.
Reviews (4)
School Library Journal Review
PreS-Gr 2-If The Giving Tree had been French Canadian, perhaps she would have been more like Bertolt, the ancient oak and best friend of the narrator of this small, square book. There are many things to appreciate in Goldstyn's gentle colored pencil drawings, which impart a casual, thrown-off impression even as they embrace precise anatomical details of honeybees or cardinals. Best of all are his renderings of the rich textures of Bertolt's trunk: the whorls and deep crevices the narrator uses as toeholds to climb his "secret ladder." While hidden among Bertolt's leafy branches, the boy witnesses amusingly clandestine activities: boys stealing bottles from the grocer, a young couple stealing kisses, and the like. After Bertolt dies, the boy seeks a way to respond appropriately. Goldstyn circles round to the seemingly unrelated incident of a lost mitten, which occurs on the first page, inspiring the child to deck Bertolt's bare branches with an assortment of mismatched mittens. At 72 pages, Goldstyn's story lasts far longer than the average picture book, but it is charming enough to hold readers' attention. It's all rather sweet and delightfully unexpected. VERDICT A tender and affirming picture book for independent reading and one-on-one sharing.-Miriam Lang Budin, Chappaqua Library, NY © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Publisher's Weekly Review
The boy who narrates Canadian artist Goldstyn's story doesn't mind being different. When he loses a mitten, he gets a new one from his school's lost-and-found box, even though it doesn't match. He prefers the company of his favorite tree, a venerable oak he names Bertolt. The boy knows every crevice, every turn of Bertolt's magnificent branches: "When Bertolt is covered with leaves, nobody can see me, but I can see everyone else." Goldstyn spends a leisurely time laying all of this out-his impish, loopy drawings recall the work of the French cartoonist Sempé-and Bedrick's translation flows easily. When spring comes, the other trees burst into leaf, but not Bertolt: the tree has died. To give life to Bertolt one last time, the boy hangs the rest of the lost-and-found mittens on the ends of every branch. Because of the time and care Goldstyn spends describing Bertolt's many pleasures, the tree's death is a jolt, and the boy's sweet memorial offers only limited comfort. Yet the story is beautifully observed, and readers will look forward to more from Goldstyn. Ages 4-9. (Mar.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Kirkus Review
A character who resembles the Kilroy image of World War IIwith the addition of a mobile bodyreveals himself as an imaginative introvert.His simple, cartoonish, acorn-capped head sways flawlessly from side to side, as the single-mittened character/narrator expresses his irritation: "Darn, darn, and more darn. Where's my mitten? I don't see it anywhere." His decision to choose a strongly mismatched mitten from "the Lost Found" (lockers in the background imply it's at school) leads to musingsnot over someone else's missing mitten but over being mistreated if you are different. This segues into the character's assertion that he is a loner who likes his life that way. Lively illustrations of solitary fishing, baking, one-sided chess games, and nighttime skateboardingin a graveyard!back up his claims. Finally, readers meet the ancient, titular oak tree, among whose branches the narrator has spent many enjoyable hours. Tangents emerge as readily as Bertolt's branchesamong them, furtive lives of townsfolk (all of whom appear to be white, including the narrator) and observations of wildlife and weather. When Bertolt does not produce leaves one spring, it takes a while for the truth to sink in. In a burst of ingenuity that leads readers all the way back to the story's opening, the narrator memorializes his arboreal friend. Fine, black inked lines, occasional washes, and the remarkable use of textural colored pencils never miss a beat in extending the text. Humor, contemplation, and masterful illustrations. (Picture book. 6-12) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Booklist Review
*Starred Review* Delighted to don mismatched mittens, skateboard through cemeteries, or lounge solo by the lakeside, Goldstyn's unnamed narrator is a self-proclaimed loner and it doesn't bother him one bit. He has Bertolt, after all, an ancient at least 500 years old oak. Amid Bertolt's fortress of foliage, the boy is free to track town mischief (like the Tucker twins swiping bottles from the grocer); weather spring storms; and absorb abounding wildlife, from scampering squirrels to singing cicadas. Blanketed in Bertolt's branches, the boy is never alone. But one spring, Bertolt fails to bloom, leaving the boy to ponder the tree's elusive end and, more important, how to properly commemorate him. Celebrated for his scientific comics and political caricatures in Canada, where this title was originally published, Goldstyn uses pen, ink, and colored pencil to render his illustrations, which are at once sprightly and sparse. While textured bursts of color illuminate branches, birds, and the boy's signature acorn-shaped cap, backdrops often remain evocatively bare. Goldstyn's playful prose is similarly nuanced, alternating between humor, palpable admiration for the natural world, unflinching honesty, and, in the story's final spreads, no words at all. Reworking notions of both loss and what it means to be alone, this is an imaginative, introspective, and quietly profound paean to life's little wonders.--Shemroske, Briana Copyright 2017 Booklist