Group Text “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse” will spark lively conversation among people who have run out of things to say. Welcome to Group Text, a monthly column for readers and book clubs about novels and memoirs that make you want to talk, ask questions and dwell in another world for a little bit longer. This month we’re taking a slightly different approach. Instead of picking a brand-new book and reviewing it, we’re introducing you to one that’s been out for a few months and feels right for the time we're in today.
We checked in with the author to find out what inspired him to tell this story, and why his message may be especially welcome right now. ________ A boy, a mole, a fox and a horse wander the countryside. They watch the sun set and the moon rise. They ask questions and tell stories, learning a little about one another and a lot about life.
For instance: Home isn’t just one place, flying isn’t only for birds and it’s brave to ask for help. Those in need of peace will find it between the covers of this elegant picture book for adults and children. Beauty, wisdom, humor and perspective are in here, too, equally accessible to humans of every age — especially ones who are on each other’s last nerve. When the nightmare of coronavirus is behind us, here’s what I’ll remember: Teaching my son to drive.
The spray of white in my husband’s new beard. The sound of my younger daughter taking a virtual tap class in the attic, and my older daughter quietly sobbing as she unpacked duffel bags from her college dorm. I’ll remember the night I was out walking the dog and my regular train pulled into the station and not a single person stepped down onto the platform. This was an eerie sight, the local equivalent of an empty Times Square.
I’ll also remember the night my mother — a cherished member of our self-quarantined circle — came over and I read the THE BOY, THE MOLE, THE FOX AND THE HORSE (HarperOne, 128 pp. , $22. 99) to the whole family. There was some skepticism at first.
But after the first few pages of this fable intended for people of all ages, my audience — ages 12 to 74 — slowly put their phones down on the coffee table. The room was so quiet, you could hear birds chirping in the magnolia tree we planted on our older daughter’s ninth birthday. You could hear the hum of the refrigerator, chilling greasy containers of leftovers nobody wanted to eat for lunch. It felt good to say these words: “‘Is your glass half empty or half full?
Books of The Times It’s been 20 years since Anthony Bourdain published his best-selling memoir “Kitchen Confidential,” with its solemn warning: Never order fish...
’ asked the mole. “‘I think I’m grateful to have a glass,’ said the boy. ” Charlie Mackesy’s mesmerizing debut combines the simplicity of “The Giving Tree,” the magic of “The Velveteen Rabbit” and the curiosity of Paddington. The story of “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse” is so simple, the title tells you what you need to know: A boy meets a mole.
The boy and the mole meet a fox, whom they spring from a trap even after he has threatened to kill the mole. Then these three creatures meet a horse — “the biggest thing they have ever encountered, and also the gentlest. ” As Mackesy says in his whimsical handwritten introduction, “Their adventures happen in springtime, where one moment snow is falling and the sun shines the next, which is also a bit like life — it can turn on a sixpence. ” I would have to agree.
(Remember getting lost in a crowd? Remember chatting with the cashier while you bought a pair of socks? Remember offering your friend a taste of ice cream without feeling as if you were taking your life in your hands? ) The philosophical tale is punctuated by unexpected asides.
We see the foursome watching a pair of swans paddling around a pond. “How do they look so together and perfect? ” asks the boy. “There’s a lot of frantic paddling going on beneath,” says the horse.
(Here, I raised an eyebrow at my Instagram enthusiasts. ) On the page where the mole says, “The greatest illusion is that life should be perfect,” we see ink smudges above a note from Mackesy: “My dog walked over the drawing — clearly trying to make the point. ” On another page, a teacup stain is a convincing stand-in for the moon.
““The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse” is not only a thought-provoking, discussion-worthy story, the book itself is an object of art.”
In an interview, Mackesy explained his whimsically illustrated endpapers, which are the sheet music for a Schubert march (“I like to draw on old music”), and his decision to place the copyright page at the back of the book: “A copyright page reminds me of going to a party where someone stands up and says, ‘This food we’ve made? Please don’t try to copy it anywhere else even though it’s delicious. ’ Why ruin the experience? ” Mackesy, who grew up in Northumberland, England, says his “journey into drawing was made through grief” after a friend died in a car accident.
He was drawing on the street in London when he was approached by a gallery about doing a show. He has been a cartoonist and a book illustrator, an artist on the set of “Love Actually” and a collaborator on a set of lithographs about Nelson Mandela. If you have the attention span to read one book in this difficult time, “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse” may be your best bet. It’s soothing and beautiful without being sappy; it’s prescriptive but never bossy.
(“Sometimes just getting up and carrying on is brave and magnificent. ”) And if you’re anything like me, you will relate to the mole, who is constantly on the prowl for a piece of cake. However, if you’re looking to read a story with your family over the long haul, you may want to explore other options; this one only takes about 10 minutes, start to finish. Also, if simple secular parables give you the willies, think again.
(Some have compared “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse” to “Winnie the Pooh. ” To me, the first group of characters belong in a frame; the second, on a sippy cup. ) Mackesy has advice for readers who are feeling scared, uncertain or alone right now: “Never underestimate the love that is around you. You are never alone.
And every storm has an end. In fact, that’s probably my next drawing. The boy asks the horse, ‘What do you know about storms? ’ The horse says, ‘They end.
’” When the horse says, “The truth is, everyone is winging it,” what do you think he means? The mole asks, “What do you want to be when you grow up? ” and the boy says, “Kind. ” How would you answer this question?
(It doesn’t matter if you’re already grown up. ) What was your favorite illustration? And which tiny messages did you notice hidden in the drawings? “Griffin and Sabine,” by Nick Bantock.
Who doesn’t love reading someone else’s mail? Welcome to a romantic correspondence — in actual handwriting with letters tucked into envelopes — between a London artist and a mysterious postage stamp illustrator in the South Pacific. The story is for adults, with all the color and whimsy of a book you’d find in a child’s picture book. “My Favorite Things,” by Maira Kalman.
Her most recent book — also gorgeous — is a colorful reissue of Gertrude Stein’s “The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas,” but Kalman’s older gem also works well for those feeling low. It’s a reminder of small, good things: Dancers and dogs. Pocket watches and buttons and naps.
As she writes, “Everything is part of everything. We live, we blunder. Love unites us. ” To join the conversation about “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse,” you can comment below — or go to our Facebook page, @nytbooks, or our Instagram, @NYTBooks.
You can also tweet your thoughts, questions and opinions to @nytimesbooks with the hashtag #nytgrouptext.
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