I really liked The Letter Home by Timothy Decker. In the book, a father serving in World War I wrote home to his son to tell him everything he has been doing. In the book, the illustrations show what is actually happening, while the father writes his letter to make it seem fun for his son. I like how Decker showed how parents usually put their children's happiness before their own. I like that he wrote about doing activities that are fun for children, such as watching fireworks and playing hide and seek.
I think this book is beautifully written. It shows the battle that parents have to make every day, just to make sure their children are not scared or worried. The father in the book knew that he could not tell his young son about what he was actually doing there, but he wanted to ensure to his son that he would be home soon. ( )

A beautiful, touching, sad story. A medic is sent to the front line during WWI. There, he writes a letter to his son about the people he meets, the work he is doing, and everything he is seeing. The front cover shows the young boy holding letters in his hand from the mailbox and even though there is no facial details on the boy, you can tell that this is a very somber text. The illustrations certainly add the raw emotion coming from the father. I was touched by this line, "Compassion as action to ease the pain of the world." It was very hard not to shed a tear for this book. ( )

The illustrations belie the cheerful mood of the letter sent by a medic in the trenches of World War I to his son.

Yet another book relegated to the children's section of the library and then discarded because it's much more meaningful to adults; see, for example, Robert Innocenti's Rose Blanche and Allen Say's Home of the Brave. ( )

There is a certain kind of narrative - one which appears calm and matter-of-fact on the surface, with simple words used sparingly, and a distinct lack of exclamation points, whether textual or punctuational (I tend to abuse the exclamation point myself), but that is, on some level shouting, raging underneath it all, full of deep and hidden emotion, all the more powerful for being obliquely expressed - that I find intensely moving. Whether that tension between calm exterior and tumultuous interior is created through the contrast of tone and content, with terrible realities being calmly described, or, as is the case here, through the contrast of word and image, the resultant experience can be an astonishing one, as a reader.

Timothy Decker, whose work has been enthusiastically recommended to me by my friend Melody (thanks, Melody!), has created that kind of narrative in The Letter Home, ostensibly written by a WWI medic who is describing his wartime experiences to his young son back home - a son with whom he will soon be reunited. His carefully neutral, sometimes even deceptively cheerful words, contrast sharply with the painfully beautiful illustrations that depict the fuller reality behind them. These drawings (pencil, I assume?) have a fine detail that puts me in mind of old-fashioned etchings (high praise from me), and requires minute examination. I could pore over them for far longer than I had leisure to do, this morning on the train. Suffice it to say, they're beautiful, and, taken together with the text, terribly sad.

I really loved this book, but I don't know, despite its status as a picture-book, just who I'd recommend it to. Younger readers might miss some of the depth of emotion lurking behind the simple text, and some of the significance of the artwork, while older readers might want "more," in the way of story. Perhaps I'm doing both a disservice, though, and underestimating them? I think graphic-novel readers of all ages will probably appreciate it, particularly with the way it is formatted, in panels. It's just an unusual and lovely book... a troubling book. ( )

5/2011 Memorial day is perhaps the most appropriate day to re-read this incredible book. I love it so very much that I fear I have no objectivity regarding it. You should read it too, whoever you are, wherever you are. It's the best anti-war book I've ever read, and is in my top 5 books of all times. If my house was on fire, this is the book I'd dive for.


4/2006 Stunning book, one I picked up at the library for no particular reason. I'd never heard of it, I mean, and saw the cover and was intrigued. The text of the book is the text of a letter home from WWI, written by a medic to his young son. In simple prose, the letter unwinds with the accompaniment of spare black and white drawings which are both powerful and unsettling. DH was chatting with his favorite librarian, so I went and sat in a corner and opened the book and fell in. Headfirst. By the end, my face was wet and my world was different. This is a quiet book that reverberates down through the day, and I predict it will be with me for a long, long time. I made my son read it tonight at dinner. After he read it he was speechless for a minute (if you can imagine!), and then he asked if he could take it in to school for his teacher to read. DH read it and was nearly as moved as I was. I was teary-eyed just watching them read it. I even emailed the author to tell him how great this book is. Don't be fooled by finding this in the Picture Books section of your library. Unreservedly recommended, in fact, emphatically pushed. ( )