Having now read several of Paul Fleischman's books, I think I can safely say that readers should anticipate a high level of innovation from his work. Fleischman seems generally resistant to the idea of penning a traditional novel, and the unconventional fruits of his labor have meant some outstanding contributions to the pantheon of contemporary literature. In Graven Images, the author links three unrelated short stories together through use of a common theme: inanimate objects that, in one way or another, exert surprising influence on the world around them, making and breaking people's lives just as surely as if the objects in question had mouths, eyes, and a brain. It makes one pause to consider that anything can become a catalyst for destruction in our lives if we're not careful, even something as ostensibly innocuous as a simple graven image. In the first short story, a town in mourning for a crew of sailors found dead aboard a ship washed ashore find solace in the unmoving, unspeaking wooden figurehead of the ship. Surely this wooden figure saw what happened, though it speaks not of whatever the tragedy may have been. The carefully crafted piece of wood eventually draws a bit of a "cult" following as people come to whisper their deepest, darkest secrets in its unhearing ears, sure that the figure can be trusted to keep their secrets as well as it has kept the secret of whatever happened that killed all of the crew aboard its ship. This cathartic practice of telling secrets to a harmless receptor takes on a sinister edge, though, when one of the town's residents figures out a way to learn the secrets being told to the carved wooden form. Might the answer to the mystery of the dead crew be found on the lips of someone seeking to unburden his or her soul to the wooden figure? In story number two, a young apprentice cobbler finds his life heading in a new direction when he mistakenly interprets a signal given by a girl working in the grocery as meaningful of her love and devotion to him. This changes everything, and he immediately goes about trying to find just the right way to express in return the way that he feels about the girl. However, figuring out the complicated romantic meanings of different kinds of flowers isn't easy, and so in mild desperation he turns to the patron saint of cobblers for help, hoping that if Saint Crispin wills it, he might find true happiness with this girl after all. But is the saint said by many to be responsible for watching over cobblers really the one directing events? The final story is that of a statue maker named Zorelli, whose once-thriving business has gone south and left him in meager financial straits. He'll have to give up his shop entirely before much longer, but his fortunes change when a ghost comes to solicit his work. The ghost wants to pay Zorelli a substantial fee to make a statue of him, but the odd requests that the ghost makes as to how he wants the statue to look puzzle Zorelli, and after a while he begins to wonder if perhaps he made a mistake by accepting the job at all. There's more behind the ghost's commissioning of the statue than just the chiseling of a personal sculpture, though, and as Zorelli nears the completion of the stone monument, he also arrives closer to learning the truth about what shocking past deed the ghost has committed, and where he received so much money to pay Zorelli in the first place. In this edition of Graven Images, with a new afterword added by Paul Fleischman, I actually think that the afterword might be the most interesting part of the book. In it, the author gives some great examples of how he comes up with the ideas for his stories, and then allows us a background look into the process by which Graven Images was first dreamed up and compiled, and how much of a difference the steadfast belief of editor Charlotte Zolotow made in getting this book out onto the market. That belief of hers would be vindicated in early 1983 when Graven Images was selected as one of five Newbery Honor books that year, putting Paul Fleischman on the map as a promising talent for the future. The only other thing I have to say about this book's Newbery connections is that, had it actually gone a step higher and won the Newbery Medal instead of an Honor, then Paul Fleischman would have beaten his father to the big prize despite, obviously, having been a novelist for a much shorter time. As it turned out, Sid Fleischman claimed the Newbery Medal first with The Whipping Boy in 1987, but Paul would taste Newbery gold of his own two years later, winning for Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices in 1989. To date, they remain the only parent and child to have ever both won a Newbery Medal, and that's a distinction that it's quite possible no other pair will ever match. Graven Images is a good book, in my opinion; not necessarily what I usually think of in a novel recognized by Newbery, but certainly worth reading. None of the three stories really jumps out at me as definitely better than the other two, but if I had to designate one as the best it would probably be the second story, Saint Crispin's Flower. Fans of Paul Fleischman's esoteric writing style will want to get their hands on a copy of this book, though I might recommend a different starting point for those who are new to his body of literature.
I saw this lying about at the library, and the cover and title (not to mention the Newberry Honor!) prompted me to pick it up and give it a try. I like the short story format if it is done well, and I think it works for this small collection.All three stories are written in a most classical prose that reminds me of a lot of the books I read growing up. In fact, since the book was originally published in 1982, perhaps this style is indicative of the children's literature that was in fashion at the time. Regardless, it is a nice clean prose that works well for the stories.Certain types of plots and writing work best for short stories. The first story (The Binnacle Boy) is a good old-fashioned whodunit with a nice freaky twist at the end. While the plot and characters could have been spun out into a longer tale, it was fairly artfully done and works as a short story. The second is entitled Saint Crispin's Follower and is perfect as a short story in every way. Sweet and light-hearted, the action moves at the perfect pace for a nice little read.The last story is what causes me to rate this as only four stars. The Man of Influence has a lot of potential to be a real soul-searching, chilling tale. However, the effect falls a little flat because the setup and execution is a roughly handled. The main character is too prideful and abrasive for the reader to really relate or sympathize, and the revelations about the figure requesting the statue come too quickly and bluntly to have any deep impact.
Do You like book Graven Images (2006)?
How ironic that on the eve of my trip to Italy I should read a cautionary tale about graven images, particularly The Man of Influence because it was set in Genoa. Just because people have money or power or both does not mean that they are better or more worthy than anyone else. I see connections to our current society's obsession with those in the sports and entertainment industries. The first story, The Binnacle Boy, was not what I expected; it was very dark. I got the solution completely wrong as I suspected the wrong character.
—Sheila Bracken
Good short stories, creepy illustration. The title of the book gave me the impression the stories would be scary or at least very disturbing. Far from it. I've read many other Newbery honor and award winners that are much scarier, sometimes possibly too scary, considering the audience they are intended for. (I'm thinking here of The Graveyard Book and Splendors and Dooms, to name two off the top of my head) Anyhow, don't let the title of this one deter you. I don't think a child would find this scary, no matter how young.
—Jill
Though this book is for the middle school reader, I gave it 5 stars because it is a collection of three short stories that are told succinctly, simply, yet intelligently and with the shadow of a thriller following each story's heels. At the end of the book Fleischman tells of how he came to write these stories: researching sea travel of the 18th and 19th centuries, which grew into his first story of a poisoned crew coming into their home port. Each story has a character whom we follow, whose personality is flushed out through the course of their individual tale, and each one has a personality trait we can relate to: envy, passion, drive, bitterness, whatever it may be, which we can connect our own shortcomings or dreams with. Simply put, it's a great, short collection that deserves more attention!
—Becky
