Yesterday, we had our first snow of the season here in the Boston area. It was not much–just big, wet snow clumps that quickly melted–but it was snow, nonetheless. Yesterday morning I started writing about it in the nature journal that I keep, but I became distracted mid-entry. I was thinking about other snowy mornings and about Ezra Jack Keats’ The Snowy Day.I suppose I was thinking about it because I felt a bit like Peter, the main character in that book and many other books by Keats, peeking out of my window, catching a glimpse of the newly fallen snow. Also, it came to mind because I have been working on a children’s book of my own, and I have been thinking a lot about many of the classic illustrated children’s books. In a funny way, too, Peter has become a personal icon for me as I have been finding my way in the world of rare books and special collections. So much so that last year I had considered buying The Snowy Day library stationery that I saw advertised in the Demco catalogue.
This strange connection happened several years ago when I was working as an assistant to an antiquarian bookseller. We were in the middle of a big mailing project with hundreds of copies of a new catalogue waiting to be enveloped, labeled, stamped, and mailed within the span of a couple of days. I usually did cataloguing work in an office at the back of the shop, but for this project, I needed to sit at the big antique table in the main showroom.
I had been in that room many times before, but I always entered it with tunnel vision. If I needed to shelve something, I was only worried about the book in hand and the space in the display case for it. If I needed a reference book, I was only worried about the book needed. I suppose I noticed the artwork in that room but only in a peripheral way.
So, I was sitting at the table, putting catalogues into envelopes and so on, and I looked up at the framed picture near the table. It was a scene from The Snowy Day, the first illustration showing Peter in bed. At first, I thought, “Oh, what a nice poster.” But, then, I realized that it was not a poster at all; it was an original illustration from the book–an original illustration by Ezra Jack Keats.
Later, I asked my boss about the illustration, and she explained that her husband knew Keats and that it was a gift from him. She told me many interesting stories about Keats and his work. Although, in my very understated way, I probably seemed interested but unmoved by the illustration and the story behind it, in reality, I was a bit star-struck.
I never get star-struck by people (i.e., movie stars, musicians, diplomats, and the like), but books and artwork can leave me speechless. Working with rare materials, I fear that over time I will lose that sense of wonder and awe, that I will fail to be impressed by a Caxton or a Gutenberg or a medieval Japanese scroll. But, then, on a snowy morning like yesterday, I am reminded of my encounter with The Snowy Day and the childlike awe of seeing the season’s first snow.
Note: I know that I have linked to it before, but, in case you did not see my earlier post containing the link, you should check out the Ezra Jack Keats Virtual Exhibit. The de Grummond Children’s Literature Collection at the University of Southern Mississippi is the home of the Ezra Jack Keats Archive and much more.
