A few weeks back I had a rather funny experience at an antique store. It went like this.
My mom, sister, and I were out antique shopping on the town square. The three of us walked in, were greeted by the proprietor, and then two of us walked out, fittingly farewelled by the proprietor. I was the third who was not farewelled because I had noticed a wall of books at the back of the store and was happily perusing it. So far, so good.
Well, apparently the woman wasn’t much of a counter because when she walked to the back of the store and saw me there, she shrieked and nearly threw something. Yes, that’s right, yours truly had frightened her because she thought she was alone in the store. However, after calming down and seeing that I was interested in children’s books, she didn’t allow me to finish looking through that stack and instead dragged me off to a free pile she had stashed by the counter.
I’m still not sure of the reasoning behind that one… Dragging a customer from the books she was interested in paying money for and dropping her in front of the free ones…
Anyway, I walked out with four free books, one of which was this one. Because it was free, I didn’t look in the inside, just at the cover which I thought looked darling. Imagine my surprise when I opened it in the car on the way home and discovered that there weren’t any words.
I was shocked to say the least. And a bit bewildered. I mean, what’s the point of a book without any words? So, I glanced at each of the illustrations until I got to the last page. On the last page were these instructions.
As I flipped back through the book looking for the answers to these questions, suddenly a multiplicity of story lines were opened up to me, a complexity of design and charm. In that moment I realized how easy it is to be blind to the real purpose of a thing – and resolved to never declare something purposeless until I’ve made sure I understand it thoroughly. :)
Conclusion. Actually brilliant.
Review © 2015 Laura Verret