The boy, the bird & the coffin maker

Matilda Woods

Book - 2018

Alberto, the town's coffin maker, and Tito, a runaway boy, both lonely after suffering tragic losses, learn the power of friendship as they try to escape the shadows of their pasts.

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Subjects
Genres
Fantasy fiction
Published
New York, NY : Philomel Books 2018.
Language
English
Main Author
Matilda Woods (author)
Other Authors
Anuska Allepuz, 1979- (author)
Edition
First American edition
Physical Description
190 pages : illustrations ; 21 cm
ISBN
9780525515210
Contents unavailable.
Review by Booklist Review

*Starred Review* Woods fashions an incredibly tender, old-fashioned story in her debut. Using an economy of prose, she confidently unspools the story of young Tito Bonito and how he came to Allora, a quaint Italian town known for its flying fish and colorful houses. There, a carpenter named Alberto lives atop a hill, and after a plague ravages the town and claims his family, he becomes Allora's coffin maker. Many years later, Alberto discovers a skittish, starving boy stealing food from his kitchen, accompanied by a rainbow-feathered bird. Big-hearted Alberto gradually wins the boy's trust, finding an apprentice and surrogate son in the process. However, little Bonito has frightening things in his past that catch up to him, and Alberto must put his coffin-making skills to unusual use in order to help the boy. Wood deftly evokes a wondrous sense of place and creates characters for whom readers will deeply care. Antique blue page borders and illustrations add to the story's folkloric feel, a quality amplified by the role such tales play in the narrative itself. Death, gossip, greed, and cruelty touch this story, but they are outshone by true friendships and the love that grows between Alberto and Tito and the bird, Fia, of course. This uplifting book will enthrall readers, enveloping them in its gentle charm.--Smith, Julia Copyright 2018 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

In the beautiful town of Allora, where fish fly and every house is a brilliant hue, a plague has killed the family of carpenter Antonio. Thirty-one years later, Antonio has become the local coffin maker, spending more time with the dead than with the living. After he buries a young woman who had recently arrived in town, food begins disappearing from his home, and he discovers that she has left behind her 10-year-old son, Tito. The child is skittish, distrustful, and afraid of being discovered by his cruel father, who had abused his mother. But after Antonio nurses the desperately ill boy back to health, Tito slowly begins to trust Antonio and becomes his apprentice. Soon, the two form their own family, but the arrival of Tito's father threatens their bond. This magical tale, told from an omniscient viewpoint that roves among the characters, is interspersed with a story that Tito and Antonio share aloud of a magical land that just might be real. Elegantly told from start to finish and enhanced by Allepuz's evocative images and decorations, debut author Woods has created a fairy tale that will linger with readers. Ages 8-12. (May) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 3-6-A lyrical and melancholy tale about a lonely man who befriends a small boy and his bird. Alberto is the town coffin maker, having taken this role after a plague claimed his entire family and decimated the town of Allora, famous for its seaside location and flying fish. When a small boy named Tito, along with his pet bird Fia, sneaks into Alberto's home to steal food, the old man welcomes him and the two form a bond. Tito's father, a rather sinister-seeming character, is on the hunt for the boy, and Alberto helps Tito hide. The atmospheric writing and light touches of magical realism give the story a slightly fantastical feel. The blue typeface and illustrations add to this quality; each page is illustrated along its borders and there are additional full-page illustrations throughout. The measured pace of the story allows for character development, not only of Alberto and Tito but also for many minor characters, including a fisherman and the mayor. VERDICT Give to fans of Jessica Townsend's Nevermoor: The Trials of Morrigan Crow or Kelly Barnhill's The Girl Who Drank the Moon. A strong purchase for large and medium-sized collections.-Jenni -Frencham, Columbus Public Library, WI © Copyright 2018. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review

An intergenerational friendship blossoms between lonely coffin-maker Alberto and orphan Tito. This folkloric tale is peopled by archetypical characters: the villain, the good-guy, the innocent. Its story line is bare-boned, rendering motivation moot, but a charming otherworldly guilessness and a story within the story add appeal. Allepuz's blue-toned full-page art and decorative motifs bordering the pages lend a magic all their own. (c) Copyright 2019. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

Alberto, a carpenter who's buried his entire family, finds rejuvenation in protecting a motherless boy from his abusive father.Perched above the sea, Allora is beloved by artists and renowned for its peculiar flying fish. Thirty years before, a plague swept the town, sparing few. Instead of furniture, Alberto began crafting coffins, including those for his own wife and children. Now, after burying the reclusive Miss Bonito, Alberto's food begins going missing. He catches the thiefyoung Tito Bonito, along with his colorful pet bird, Fia. As boy and bird grow to trust kindly Alberto, Tito becomes his apprentice. Nursing Tito back from a dire illness, Alberto settles him into the children's room, reading him fantastical tales from The Story of Isola. Through Tito's perspective, readers learn of the dangerous father that he and Mum fled south to escape. Dreaded Mr. Bonito arrives, aligning with the mayor, to find Tito, leading Alberto, Tito, and magical Fia to enact a daring escape by sea. Woods' charming narrative evokes a folkloric Mediterranean landscape of jewel-hued dwellings, sparkling water, and colorful, Italian-esque characters (who are default white). Two gossipy sisters wreak havoc, and the vainglorious mayor, as wide as he's tall, commissions the grandiose casket that serves as the trio's getaway craft. Isola, the treasure-laden land of their read-aloud, beckons them.A quietly triumphant tale with a respectful, matter-of-fact regard for the dead. (Fantasy. 8-12) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

The Coffin Maker's First Coffin The town of Allora was famous for two things. The first was its flying fish, and the second was the beauty of its winding streets. Tourists came from all over the country to watch the fish fly out of the sea while artists came to paint, in pigment, the bright houses that rose like steps up Allora Hill. There were so many colors that the artists did not have enough pigments to paint them, and it was rumored (at least by the Finestra sisters) that the great artist, Giuseppe Vernice, had invented a whole new color just to paint the roof of their house. "Splendid Yolk, it was called," Rosa Finestra said to anyone who would listen. "Derived from the crushed eye of a peacock feather," Clara Finestra added with a wise nod. Yet though the sisters gushed about their bright home, the one next door was even brighter. Alberto Cavello's house was the highest house on the hill. If you went any higher, you would reach the graveyard at the top. It stood like a bright azure jewel glistening across the sea. And it wasn't just bright. It was loud. It was loud when Alberto and his wife, Violetta, moved in. It grew louder when their first child, a girl named Anna Marie, was born; louder still when their son, Antonio, came into the world; and even louder when a little miracle named Aida wailed for the first time within its bright walls. Alberto was a carpenter, the best in all of Allora. During the day he would build beds, tables and chairs for his paying clients, and at night he would build toys for his children. With each new toy Alberto made, a new sound filled the house: squeals of delight as Anna Marie jumped off her spinning chair, screams of anger as Aida cried for Antonio to give back her favorite doll, and cries of "Gallop on! Gallop on!" as this same Antonio raced his wooden horse up and down the stairs. Their house remained bright, loud and bustling for seven happy years until the sickness came.   The sickness appeared in the coldest month of winter, but it did not reach Allora until spring. The first to fall ill were the men working on a new railway that linked Allora to the north, then the doctors who tended them and the artists who had come to paint the town. Only one family was wealthy enough to flee. The mayor took himself and his family on a long holiday to a place the sickness had not reached. "Good luck!" he cried over his fat shoulder as a plush coach drawn by six white stallions carried them far away. In the beginning, the dead were buried in the graveyard--one, then two, then three to a single plot--but as the sickness spread, other measures had to be taken. A gate was built at the back of the graveyard and a thin staircase carved into the stone with steps leading down to the water. No longer buried, the dead were wrapped in blankets and cast out into the violent, surging sea. As the number of dead mounted and the number of living fell, the cobbled streets of Allora grew quiet. Houses went unpainted, and shutters, once thrown open to greet spring, were pulled tightly closed. Even the Finestra sisters didn't poke their big noses out. Just like the unfinished paintings that lay abandoned in the streets, the town of Allora itself began to fade. ***   The sickness rose up the hill--house by house--until it finally reached Alberto's home. It took the eldest child first. Alberto spotted the purple mark behind Anna Marie's left ear as she read a book in her favorite chair. Then Antonio fell ill. While he was ailing in his bed, the mark came upon little Aida. Violetta and Alberto tended to each child as they fell sick. They kissed them when they cried, hugged them when they whimpered, and when the time came for each of them to leave this world behind, they answered, "Yes, of course: one day, we will meet again." Keeping her promise, Violetta joined them two days later. The plague bearers came to collect their bodies that evening, but Alberto wouldn't let them. "I can't," he had said to the two men waiting at the front door. "I can't let you throw them away. Not into that cruel sea." Even from where he stood outside the highest house on Allora Hill, Alberto could see foam shooting up from where the waves crashed against the gray stones below. He could not bear to think of his family thrown in there. "You must get rid of them somehow," the men had replied. "You can't let them stay inside. It will spread the sickness quicker." "I'll bury them." "All the coffin makers are dead. We collected the last one this morning." "Then I'll make their coffins myself." And that is what Alberto did. He went into his workshop and for the first time built something for the dead instead of the living. He carved a coffin for his wife, a coffin for his eldest daughter, a coffin for his only son, and a coffin for little Aida. Each was smaller than the one before and, like Babushka dolls, could fit inside the other. When the coffins were finished and his family buried, Alberto returned to his workshop and began to make his own. But by the time he finished, the plague had left the town. The mayor returned from his holiday, the Finestra sisters reopened their shutters, and people passed gaily up and down the streets of Allora once more. But instead of joining them, Alberto sat beside his coffin every day, alone, waiting for the purple mark to come back and claim him too. The Boy and the Bird Thirty Years Later The boy stared out the window of the train. Steam billowed out of the chimneys and drifted up into the mountains. The boy had never seen mountains so tall or so wild. They reached above the clouds and stretched farther than his eyes could see. "You'll be flying out there in no time," the boy whispered to a small bird peering out of his pocket. She was enjoying the view too. "As soon as your wing is better, you'll be able to fly to the top of the tallest mountain in the world." "Twrp," the bird said with a small nod of her head. When the boy first found her, two months before, she had been black all over. But now sometimes, when the sun shone on her wings or when she ate a particularly tasty treat, her feathers would flash gold or silver or green in the light. Today, they were flashing all three. She must have been very happy. "You must know where we're going," the boy whispered to his bird. "Everyone who goes to Allora is happy. That's what my mum says. She says that Allora is the brightest and happiest place in the whole world." When she heard the word Allora , the bird's feathers grew even brighter, and she let out a loud trill that made several passengers on the train jump. "That's right," the boy said with a bright laugh. "Allora is going to be amazing. Mum says that in Allora you never get hungry because the fish jump out of the sea and straight into your mouth. She says you never get cold because even in winter the sun keeps the snow away. And, best of all, Mum says that Allora is so far away from everything else that once we get there, he'll never find us again." When she heard the final sentence, the bird's wings darkened and she pulled her head back into the boy's pocket. "Don't worry," the boy said to his little best friend. "Mum promised we'll be safe this time." But despite the boy's assurances, the bird refused to look out of his pocket, and for the rest of the train journey south, her feathers remained a deep shade of black. While the boy was convinced of Allora's safety, the bird, it appeared, was not. Excerpted from The Boy, the Bird, and the Coffin Maker by Matilda Woods All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.