Bound To Stay Bound

Booklist - 09/01/2011 *Starred Review* The Dillons illustrated the late Virginia Hamilton’s classics The People Could Fly (1985) and Many Thousand Gone (1993), both of which told the stories and history of Africans captured and brought across the ocean as slaves. Now, in accessible free verse, McKissack writes from the viewpoint of the Africans left behind, who can only imagine what happens to those who are “taken” and never heard from again. The focus is on one father, the widower blacksmith Dinga, who raises his beloved son, Musafa, with the help of the Mother Elements: Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind. Then one day, Musafa is gone forever; he has become one of the Taken. Unable to stop the attackers, Earth and Fire report to Dinga that Musafa has become one of the captives, and Water follows Musafa’s ship through the horror of the Middle Passage. Later, Wind travels to America and reports back to Dinga that he has found Musafa (now called Moses) in Charleston, where he lives as a blacksmith’s gifted apprentice. The dramatic, thickly outlined acrylic-and-watercolor illustrations extend the story’s magical realism and intensify the anguish and grief in the words. Both words and images come together in a conclusion that brings hope, with the promise of freedom and Musafa’s powerful resolve never to forget his roots: “I learn by reaching back with one hand. And stretching forward with the other.” - Copyright 2011 Booklist.

School Library Journal - 09/01/2011 Gr 4–7—This story-in-verse begins centuries ago, when an African blacksmith named Dinga loses his wife in childbirth. Against the advice of others in his village, he decides to raise the baby himself. When his son, Musafa, grows up, he becomes an apprentice blacksmith, but before long, the slave ships come: "Beware/Of pale men riding in large seabirds/With great white wings." What happens after that makes for a moving story of loss and transcendence, and a loving tribute to the power of memory. McKissack's writing is as rhythmic and sure as the sound of the drumbeats she describes in the narrative. The Dillons' acrylic/watercolor paintings feature beautifully soft colors and heavy yet fluid lines. The pictures demonstrate the miracle of superb book illustration: how something that lies flat on the page can convey such depth, texture, and feeling. This sad but powerful tale will not be easily accessible to many kids, but here's hoping that there are a lot of patient and appreciative adults (teachers, parents, librarians) to introduce them to it.—Lauralyn Persson, Wilmette Public Library, IL - Copyright 2011 Publishers Weekly, Library Journal and/or School Library Journal used with permission.

Bulletin for the Center... - 11/01/2011 In this mythically flavored sequence of narrative free-verse poems, the blacksmith Dinga raises his baby son on his own after the death of his wife, aided by the Mother Elements Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind. Dinga ignores the distant drums telling of oncoming war and treachery in Mali, focusing on teaching Musafa the ways of the forge. One day, however, Musafa fails to return from the bush, and Dinga sends the elements to find his son. Earth reports that Musafa is “bound to other captives” and “force-marched toward the Big Water”; then Fire confesses herself unable to bring him back from the ships traveling across the sea; Water tells of the terrible journey and the auction block that awaited Musafa in the Caribbean. Finally, Wind manages to cross as a hurricane and offers a breath of hope in her report of Musafa, now Moses, who works the forge in Charleston in the tradition of his father and who’s promised freedom in his future. McKissack gives her legend-making genuine emotional momentum as well as scope, making her grieving father an effective point of contact. The elements aren’t overplayed, and they prove a genuinely useful storytelling device as well as a dramatic concept. The verse has an incantatory flavor, with touches of folkloric structure, that will make this a strong contender for use in reading aloud, recitation, or readers’ theater. The Dillons’ watercolor and acrylic illustrations here employ a more iconically stylized technique than their past delicate intricacy, with smooth thick lines that recall woodblocks and even stained glass. The art neatly differentiates mundane reality, with its black outlines, from the appearance of the elements in their dusty, pale hues and self-colored borders. Stories of the middle passage rarely focus on the pain of those left behind, and this is a creative yet poignant treatment of that grief. An author’s note explains her inspirations in putting the story together. DS - Copyright 2011 The Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois.