Annotation: Across twelve astonishing poems, Joyce Sidman opens our eyes to the natural phenomena of the evening, and in accompaniment with Rick Allen’s vibrant reliefs and her own elucidating prose, delivers a remarkable picturebook that demonstrates the vitality in the darkness.
Personal reaction: Poetry done well can be soothing, sweet and seductive, and Joyce Sidman’s writing in Dark Emperor & Other Poems of Night sublimely sings the psalms of evening. The relief prints carved and painted by Rick Allen aren’t far behind, catching both the shadows and luminescence of the night. Appearing somewhat similar to their related cousin, the woodblock print, his art matches the cool tone of Sidman’s words, while the darker outlines of his reliefs are splashed with vivid colors that seem to coat everything with a silver sheen, and a sense of motion, and the semblance of life. If this were all, it would be enough: twelve poems, each matched carefully to a kindred illustration. But there is more: each pairing is also met with a brief paragraph of prose, providing an extra layer of instruction onto an already richly-informative palette of poetry and painting.
The skill and attention that went into Dark Emperor & Other Poems of Night is breathtaking. Far from prettily vacant, hollow words, Sidman’s poems are genuinely edifying: in her second entry, we hear of the snail climbing “a slick trail of sliver up, up the horizon of a log… seeking with its tiny sandpaper tongue morsels of green to mix in his dark, moist body and spin into whorls of light.” Past a gorgeous etching in which the sky is still touched by pink, we turn to the more explicitly instructive prose, learning that snails “have moist, sluglike bodies that are in constant danger of drying out. During the day, they hide in damp places under logs and stones, but at night they emerge to search for food, riding on a cushion of air…. They do not chew, but rather scrape plant materials into their mouths with a tongue that is covered by rows of tiny teeth. Young snails add a layer to their shells each night… extending and widening its perfectly spiral shape” (pp. 8, 9). Each of her poems is similarly dense with information, waiting to be unlocked on the other side of a vibrant illustration—and a glossary is included at the back should her economic use of language require some expounding.
Yet beauty in poem and prose paired with exemplary art is but the first layer of this text’s marriage of form and function. Smaller details are sought out to add to its perfection: the lines of “Dark Emperor” are ordered to form the silhouette of the titular horned owl; aside from passing on information and matching meter, Sidman additionally chooses to call upon a plentiful array of onomatopoeia, bringing the evening alive with sound: animals buzz, hoot, and peep; they squeak, skitter, and rustle; they mew, and they coo. And while animals of the night are making such noise, we learn that the owl’s sense of hearing is a hundred times more sensitive than our own, though the raccoon is more gifted in terms of touch, and the moth in its sense of smell. And as they use these faculties to their advantage, Allen’s reliefs point to their interrelationships: in his illustrations for “Oak After Dark”—in which poetry, art, and prose all evocatively remind us that trees are living, active beings; indeed, surprisingly so—trees may take the forefront, but pictured also are the raccoon, the owl, the bat, the eft, and several more. Similarly, “I Am a Baby Porcupette” shows two porcupines, but also mushrooms, trees, efts, an owl, and the moon, all of which have their own poems, as well as the bear, which here does not.
The craftsmanship of Dark Emperor & Other Poems of Night is superb, and there are still likely further intricacies to uncover—until my second reading, I hadn’t noticed that Allen’s illustrations sequentially darken and lighten to match the pace of the setting and rising sun. As for Sidman’s verse, I continue to marvel at her compact conveyance of so much information while still adhering not only to meter and rhyme, but also beauty, and to do so while employing devices such as onomatopoeia and alliteration. It’s an accomplishment, and certainly one of the better picturebooks of 2010.
Dark Emperor & Other Poems of the Night, by Joyce Sidman (author) and Rick Allen (illustrator), 2010, New York, NY: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. ISBN: 9780547152288
Author Website: http://www.joycesidman.com/
Illustrator Website: http://www.kenspeckleletterpress.com/
Media: Relief printing: A drawing is transferred onto wood-mounted linoleum, and is then carved away. Its surface is covered in a single color of ink and pressed on paper, using multiple blocks (3-6) as needed. The images are then hand-colored with gouache.
A 2010 publication
A book-length poem
Use of alliteration: “What symphonies of squeaks and skitters, darts and rustles, swell the vast, breathing darkness of your realm?” (p. 12)
Use of onomatopoeia:
To all of you who crawl and creep,
who buzz and chirp and hoot and peep,
who wake at dusk at throw off sleep:
Welcome to the night (p. 6)
Use of rhyme:
I am a baby porcupette
My fur is soft; my eyes are jet.
But I can deal with any threat:
I raise my quills
and pirouette (p. 18)
Use of rhythm:
Come all you young efts,
so brave and so bold,
and don the bright colors
of scarlet and gold.
Step out from your puddles
to breathe the sweet air
and wander the woodlands
with hardly a care. (p. 25)
Use of repetition:
From moss and loam
the mushrooms come.
From bark on trees,
from crumbling logs,
from musty leaves,
the mushrooms come.
…
Unbuttoning the forest floor,
the mushrooms come,
the mushrooms come.
…
like ancient cities
built on cliffs,
the mushrooms come,
the mushrooms come. (p. 22)