The purist in me loves the original cover art and detests that it has changed at all. It’s the same feeling I had the first time I heard Puff Daddy/P-Diddy/Sean Combs (whatever the artist calls himself these days) sample Every Breath You Take by the Police. I know, take a moment. That one still…erm…stings, but you have to admit, it’s catchy at least? And therein lies my dilemma with the contemporary cover for Tuck. I don’t want to like it, but I do. Firstly, let’s consider the original artwork:
The original art is striking for reasons directly related to Babbitt as the author and illustrator. Her artistic choices convey meaning that the new cover art does not. At first glance, this cover tells us a few critical clues, the most obvious is color. Saturated in gradations of yellow and orange, I can’t help but think of the Man in Yellow and Babbitt’s, summer sky, “streaked with too much color.” Is she emphasizing the carnivalesque aspects of her novel and creating a sense of foreboding? If so, one only realizes that fact after having read the book. Without that knowledge, for me, the cover simply feels pastoral and warm. But with the inclusion of the tiny red house nestled between tall trees, that warmth gives way to melancholy. Water figures prominently as well, a symbol of life’s inevitable ebb and flow. The tiny boat, presumably with Winne and Tuck aboard, is the smallest figure in the drawing. Everything about the illustration emphasizes the inevitable-ness of nature’s cycle. All of these things are critical aspects of Babbitt’s text, so I can’t help but wonder about the kinds of artistic choices made for the newest cover art.
Admittedly, publisher Farrar, Straus and Giroux, eager to sell books, updated the cover for contemporary audiences. Fair enough, but I’m intrigued by which elements they privilege; childhood itself, for one. The little girl – faceless, as her head is cropped from view is decked out in 19th Century costume holding a toad. These two figures effectively capture the yin and yang of Babbitt’s book – a life just beginning and one that will last forever. Not bad, right? Yet the author’s own illustration reveals no child. Interesting. I’m guessing the publisher feels it necessary to make that fact more obvious. “This is a book for and about children” they seem to say, or more specifically, "a book about female children." Or is it? Big question, many answers. I’ll leave that to you, or a future post!
The painting looks more like a grand old portrait, hanging above a Victorian settee, depicting the family’s favorite member. I don’t know, something about this picture echoes that same melancholy and the carnival. I suppose it’s the toad and its historic association to all things enchanted that accomplish the task. The telltale yellow is there and while not as vivid as in Babbitt’s original artwork, that’s something worth noting at least. And a really close look shows the color scheme is quite similar, red and yellow, if not “streaked with too much color.” Also green is prominent, reminding me of the wood and its importance to the story. What can I say? It’s a perfectly lovely cover…I guess…if only…
As much as I love the romanticism of the mottled artwork and it’s enchanting mood, I think the tag line, “What if you could live forever?” short changes visual and literal readers. But maybe I’m naïve. I believe so completely in this favorite (‘nostalgia v. the academe once more with feeling!’) that I don’t think it needs a tag line, though it is catchy and accurate. “Pick it up, read it! You’ll be hooked from the first page!” I all but shout at would-be purchasers perusing the middle grade shelves of Porter Square Books. So no worries F S & G, any decent bookseller will handle the tag line for you, no muss, no fuss.
Regardless of artistic aesthetics, Tuck is there on the shelves and not collecting dust. It is however, still collecting readers and yes, I more than do my part there. It sells, regardless of the cover or my enthusiasm, its obvious tag line or its status in the Newbery hall of fame (don’t get me started). F S & G is doing what it can to make the book pop off the shelves for newer readers and they certainly can’t be faulted for that.
As a consumer, I prefer the second cover, but as a visual literate, I long for the potential of encoded meaning in Babbitt’s own picture. Change is healthy however and redesigned covers breathe new life into old books and the wheel keeps turning.
