A ship. A garden. A library. A key. In Kaleidoscope, the incomparable Brian Selznick presents the story of two people bound to each other through time and space, memory and dreams. At the center of their relationship is a mystery about the nature of grief and love which will look different to each reader.
Hello there. My name is Brian Selznick and I’m the author and illustrator of The Invention of Hugo Cabret. I was born in 1966 in New Jersey. I have a sister who is a teacher, a brother who is a brain surgeon, and five nephews and one niece. I studied at The Rhode Island School of Design and after I graduated from college I worked at Eeyore’s Books for Children in New York City. I learned all about children’s books from my boss Steve Geck who is now an editor of children’s books at Greenwillow. While I was at Eeyore’s I also painted the windows for holidays and book events.
My first book, The Houdini Box, which I both wrote and illustrated, was published in 1991 while I was still working at the bookstore. Since then, I have illustrated many books for children, including Frindle by Andrew Clements, The Doll People by Ann Martin and Laura Godwin, Amelia and Eleanor Go for a Ride by Pam Muñoz Ryan and The Dinosaurs of Waterhouse Hawkins by Barbara Kerley, which received a 2001 Caldecott Honor.
I have also written a few other books myself, including The Boy of a Thousand Faces, but The Invention of Hugo Cabret is by far the longest and most involved book I’ve ever worked on.
I live in Brooklyn, New York, and San Diego, California.
I’ve had a friend in Brian Selznick since I was the age of 9, when I discovered his awe inspiring book titled “The Invention of Hugo Cabret.” Now at the age of 23, I still feel like I have a friend in Brian Selznick. I’ve grown with his books, and that’s something I’ll always treasure. Every time I read a Brian Selznick book, I can feel my 9 year old self jumping for joy in my mind and in my heart. Reading this book was an absolute pleasure, but I must say I’m devastated by the fact that it’s over. If only I could turn back Hugo’s big Parisian clock and read this book, and all of his others, for the first time again! I’ve read quite a few short story collections, and I tend to have a hard time connecting with them. That was absolutely not the case with this brilliant collection. Each story was different but, in a strange way, they all felt connected somehow. I knew it wasn’t a fluid story, yet it oddly felt like it was. I loved the fact that we never discover the narrators name, a nod to Daphne du Maurier’s “Rebecca” which I greatly love! Then there’s the recurrence of the name “James,” which I felt added such soul and heart to the book as a whole. Like Rebecca, James, though he’s different in every story and isn’t the main character, felt like the center of everything. As I’m sure you can tell, I adored this book, and everything else Brian Selznick has created! Now my 9 year old self and I will impatiently wait until he creates another stunning work of art!
There aren’t many books that I would say are postmodern middle grade books. This is one. Incredibly short stories (2-5 pages) that weave together to form a sort of tapestry, but also leave a lot open to the reader. This book is like a loom that provides a finished product when you look at it from one angle, but from a different angle is a pile of coloured thread. And both are beautiful, in their own ways. This could be a really cool daily provocation or exploration of language and story telling, at the cost of 5-10 minutes. It is different than Selznick’s earlier works, and readers should be aware of that.
I started this book and had no idea what was going on. I was confused, but I trust Selznick’s writing and was (as always) captivated by his illustrations - so I kept reading.
I don’t really know if kids will like this… why did I like it so, so much? This collection of short stories are all tied together, but not in a straightforward or linear way. And even though I lost my dad five years ago, I closed the book and he’s all I could think about. How somehow this inexplicable book is about life and coping and grief and loss and relationships and unexplained magic.
Maybe I am getting senile, but I got nothing from this book. I understand that this is a post-pandemic book, intended to help author Brian Selznick and others deal with loss and the grieving process, but for me this was a series of random stories without time nor reference, except for the oft-missing James. The so-called integrating "tapestry" was too hard to see. I also found the 3-5 page stories themselves to be so short that I could not become vested in them nor connect them. At the end of the day, I cannot see who is the intended audience for this collection. (Nice illustrations by Brian, of course.)
I'm not sure what I just read, but I know there is not a student at my school currently to whom I would recommend it. Middle school readers aren't quite the sophisticated type to appreciate a book that is rich in themes but lacks plot or characters. The whole thing is a little too ethereal and precious without much substance. The illustrations, which I normally love from Selznick, don't work in black and white. The beauty of a kaleidoscope is the changing colors.
This is definitely not going to be a book for everyone, but boy oh boy was it the book for me! I love stories that tackle grief in a unique way and that's exactly what was presented in this story. It's a book that's very much so left for the reader to decipher and understand, instead of having the author thread things together for you, you're left doing the work. I loved every bit of it!
This is described as a book of short stories, but that’s not really accurate - they are fragments or shards of a kaleidoscope, each one a new turn of the image. Some of them I could have read whole novels of, some felt like complete stories. Some take place in a moment, some span centuries. Some could almost connect as one timeline, others are from completely different worlds. But ultimately, they all tell the same story.
This book is extremely difficult to describe. Did I love it? Yes. Do I have any idea what it is about? Nope. It was unexpectedly creepy and unsettling but at the same time it was absolutely captivating. I’m not sure to be honest how appropriate or engaging it would be for the younger intended audience and I actually think I’d recommend it to adult readers mostly, despite the tween/child protagonist. Mostly I think it will take some intense close reading to figure out who tf James is.
Thanks Scholastic for the ARC. The book is brilliant and a must read for adults as well as young adults. I feel rather than a kid’s book that the publisher classifies as Juvenile Fiction dealing with Love, Romance, Social Themes, and Emotions and Feelings, it it more in the ilk of magical realism. I can't explain why, but the story and illustrations capture many thoughts and emotions that I felt in the pandemic year. I'm pressed to consider this book for kids younger than teens, yet I'm sure there are "tween" readers that will appreciate it. I believe it is most appropriate and will be enjoyed by adults, and, libraries need to buy this in large quantities.
So. This book... I'm not exactly sure how to think of it. It confused me. Very much. It really is a kaleidoscope of stories and pictures, fragmented, not quite cohesive... Each snippet was like a beautifully crafted shard of something bigger, some grand story that we catch glimpses of along the way. Oh, the writing was so gorgeously poetic I wanted to hold my breath.
My issue? I didn't get it. I never got the big picture. The book is just a collection of little fragments, but the main story seems so... fractured. So abstract - which, I read in the endnotes, is actually the author's intent. The reader is supposed to find their own story in this broken treasure chest. I'm afraid it didn't work on me. I'm not really a fan of the abstract, of finding my own meaning in broken art. I need something to tie everything together, to give things a purpose and connection. And I didn't get that in this book, as exquisitely crafted as it was.
So, take that as you will. I think some people will really love this book, and some people will hate it... and some people, like me, will want to love it and end up being very confused. I was rather dissatisfied at the end, and I don't think I'll be coming back to this book... soon, anyways.
This was not what I was expect from Brian Selznick. Don’t get me wrong, the illustrations are gorgeous but they’re just that: illustrations. They don’t help tell a story. The story was unexpected too. Each chapter told a similar story of a person missing and/or grieving the loss of a beloved person. There was no character development or continuity. I understand that that was kind of the point, writing the book the way Selznick did. But it didn’t work for me, nor do I think it will work for the young adult/ adolescent audience he writes for. **I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
This book is unlike anything I’ve ever read. It is a collection of what initially seem to be unconnected short stories. Each one relates a different tale about the first-person narrator and a boy named James. The narrator’s and James’s identities are malleable from story to story, though certain themes and motifs remain consistent or reappear throughout the book: love and loss, grief and friendship; apples, gardens, butterflies, and—of course—a boy named James. It is a beautifully written book that is at once strange and wholly wonderful. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since the first time I read it a few weeks ago.
Kaleidoscope does require effort on behalf of the reader, just as an actual kaleidoscope does. In fact, “Kaleidoscope” is the perfect title for such a collection of vignettes. You need to be willing to give yourself over to the stories, to lose yourself in the different facets of the book, all while asking (particularly on a re-read) how the stories relate to one another, even abstractly. There are also wonderful illustrations that engage the reader with similar concepts on a visual level. A “traditional” illustration marks the beginning of each short story, while a kaleidoscopic rendering of that image ends the story. Although one reviewer on here stated that the images don’t help tell the story, I would respectfully disagree. While they might not tell a “story,” the images reiterate the nature of the stories: I thought of it as one image (the “traditional” image) that represents the story, and one kaleidoscopic image that represents the story’s relationship to the others. Again and again in both the stories and the images, the reader is confronted by how things fragment, reflect back on each other, refract in on themselves, create new images from old ones. It might be a difficult concept for kids and even adults, but it’s worth exploring, particularly with regards to how grief and loss can fragment and disrupt our lives, leaving our world changed, but not without signs of that which was.
The highest praise I can give this book is that I wish I had this book in my life as a kid and young adult, when the unexpected death of a loved one shattered my entire world. At the time, I wasn’t thinking of kaleidoscopes—just broken fragments on the floor. No book can heal those wounds or transform one’s way of seeing things, but this one would have helped guide me towards constructive understanding. It focuses on grief and loss from the perspective of having had and living on, even as it honors the grief and confusion that come with losing someone you love. And yet, even with loss being at the heart of many of its stories, hopelessness and despair have no place in the pages of Kaleidoscope. If anything, it underlines the mysterious workings of the world, the power of love (romantic, platonic, and familial), and the fact that—someday, somewhere, somehow—the workings of the universe will reunite us with the people we love, even if in the most unexpected of ways.
I've read about 20 books in the past month and none of them moved past the internal gauge of 'passing the time', so of course it's this book that pushed the needle. Middle-grade post-modern flash fiction: well, why not, it's 2021 and nothing matters, what the hell are words anyway. It's the way this is put together that fascinates me more than the actual writing; the afterword and the trailer explains that this book came about during the first wave of the pandemic, when the author and his husband were stuck on separate sides of the country. (Oh to be the academic of next century, studying the literature of this period of time.) So, then, you can see the genesis of the obsessive weaving and turn-and-turn-about of these short stories, not really connected by narrative but with the same imagery and themes dropping in, coiled around, darting out: a boy named James, whom the narrator is always moving towards or away from; ships, loss, apples, stars, grief, keys, love, forests, loss, loss, loss.
I hesitate to recommend this to anyone because I don't know that the writing holds up to close scrutiny, but the repetition & tightly woven focus really spoke to me. Right time, right headspace, sort of thing. I borrowed this from the library but I'm thinking about getting my own copy, which seems a pretty good reason to knock this up to five stars.
Note: the author has deliberately left the meaning(s) of this work up to the reader. There are as many interpretations as there are distinct images seen through a kaleidoscope. The timeline, such as there is one, is certainly non-linear, the mood and atmosphere dream-like.
My interpretation follows:
These are delicate tales woven with gossamer thread. The heart of these very short sequences is the feeling when the burden of one's grief is lightened by the tender care of another. It is this care which nourishes hope, healing, and restoration.
The author repeats symbols and elements, but each story belongs only to itself. It is when we discover the true identity of James, that these stories finally begin to fall into place.
This creates the most poignant of settings for the burial of grief. And what had softened grief enough for its eventual burial? The vivid energy and imagery of imagination.
This might be the most tender book I've ever read.
I don't remember very much about being alive. I don't remember the moment I died, and I don't remember most of the things I did. But I remember you. You thought you needed the machine to bring me back. You thought if you couldn't see me I was not present, if you couldn't hear me I was not speaking to you, if you couldn't feel me we could not touch. You thought the machine would change all that, but I was already with you. I didn't need a device to be there. You yourself were the Spirit Machine. You were the thing that tied to me the world.
A collection of very short stories about James and the narrator. Readers will find themselves pondering what each story means and how they connect. I know I did.
I seem to be the odd one out here in that I really didn't take away anything from the stories themselves nor the overall "tapestry" trying to be built here. Even after reading the reviews to see what others took away, it didn't coalesce into anything meaningful for me. I see the themes trying to be discussed and everyone emerging with their own interpretations, however I don't see 'yes, death and grief do exist' as one of those intended interpretations given that's all I could really come away with. I do find it hard to believe, again in my limited understanding of what exactly this was supposed to do, that this is a middle grade novel. It is a shame because the pieces are well written and interesting on their own. I did also enjoy the abstract nature of some of the characters as though their identity or meaning was a riddle to solve. The illustrations were very Brian Sleznick and spacetacular.
I often enjoy going in blind when I read books -- not knowing exactly what a book is about somehow can add to the enjoyment of reading it. It's, like, completely new and unexpected as I experience, and that is so fun. However, with this one, I think I would have enjoyed it more had I known what was going on and what it was trying to do. Without looking at it through the lends of a book about grieving and about living during the pandemic, then it just reads as a random collection of random stories. Even with the three sections. Once I put the whole grief thing in my mind, I thought about how it related to/what it meant in the context of the remaining stories. That made it better. It made some sort of sense. I should also note that I read this via audio -- the narrator was fantastic and the music was beautiful. However, that means I did not see any of the pictures. I should also add that I have never read any other of the author's works, so I knew nothing about his style.
No podría expresar con palabras lo afortunado que me siento por haber tenido la suerte, el honor y el privilegio de ser uno de los primeros lectores del mundo de esta maravilla.
Beau, étrange et bizarre, ça ressemble tout de même beaucoup aux Chroniques de Harris Burdick, un recueil de nouvelles elles aussi assez inégales malgré de sublimes dessins crayonnés.
Interesting book, strange book. A book of tales, in none or some strange order. James the imaginary friend, who was real. Giants and the tiniest of bats. Love and wanting love weaved throughout the book. A book of contradictions. A book of childhood. A book of growing up, and a book of life and of death.
As an adult, I enjoyed this book as much as I imagine a child would like it. The art and prose was wonderful and I enjoyed the tale Brian Selznick weaved throughout.
This story is arranged in a series of fragmented tales that give it a surreal look at grief. I’m not sure who I’d recommend it to as I think it would be hard for an elementary student to follow. Perhaps better for older? The fragments come together at the end into a resolution of the characters grief. If you want something that doesn’t follow typical tropes, then you might like this story.
Two people meet and miss one another again and again in these short chapters that move through time. The stories are interconnected and yet also separate images and spaces. They are bound together by the characters themselves and also the themes that cross from one to another. There are butterflies, gardens, and gates among many other images that carry across the entire book. The characters must face their fears, reach across darkness, and grapple with grief and loss. Each chapter is a gem of a story, a short story that threads through to the others in ways that astonish, creating a true kaleidoscope of fractures and wholeness.
Few books are this impossible to summarize. Selznick, who already has written remarkable works, writes a complex book for young readers that is one where themes and metaphors are waiting to be explored. The relationship between the two characters is fascinating, one who is named James and the other who is the narrator, seeking and finding, losing and searching. The emotions in each of the stories change and wrap around one another, creating a pattern of grief, sorrow, love and joy.
It wouldn’t be a book by Selznick without his illustrations. Here he takes an illustration and turns it first into a kaleidoscope image, only revealing the actual image after the page turn. The skill here, done in charcoal gray and white, is dazzling. The images are filled with light, form and are recognizable in the kaleidoscope image. I found myself lingering between the two, flipping back and forth before reading each chapter.
Complex, fractured, and resoundingly gorgeous. Appropriate for ages 9-12.
An unnamed child works through the grief and sadness caused by their friend James' death. Through short stories (some real, some imagined), the reader learns about their relationship.
Wildly different than Selznick's normal writing style...this book is a collection of short stories each accompanied by two illustrations: one that relates to the story and another of a kaleidoscopic image. The stories are not told in any chronological order, the narrator is not identified, and the plot was indiscernible. I felt lost reading the story; which made it very difficult to relate to the characters.
This book contains one disappointment after another. Split up into roughly 24 short stories, the author attempts to provide a couple of central themes throughout, but this is haphazardly done. The narrative style is the peak of example of what telling without showing looks like, and although many of the attempted themes throughout the book, such as coming to terms with death, grief, coming of age, and the value of time are featured, they are done in such a way that one can not truly appreciate them. None of the stories have a plot, and although attempts are made to connect the stories through differing forms of the relationship between the narrator and a character called James, it is impossible to be invested in any of the character’s lives, mostly owing to the fact that they don’t have much of a story to tell. Just when I started to get invested into a story, it would end, without resolving any of the half baked thoughts that had begun to form, and ultimately leading me nowhere. Although there were parts that were beautifully written, and attempted messages that had the potential to be extremely powerful, none of that potential was tapped into. Just as my hopes would rise that a story might have some redeeming quality, it would end, usually with some extremely displaced cheesy comment about the world, life, or love that would have been far more powerful if woven into a coherently plot driven story. I often would finish reading a short story in this book and think to myself, “What just happened?” 98 percent of the time, the answer was nothing.
This short novel is something of a far cry from Selznick’s previous trilogy of illustrated novels. We follow the story of a friendship that’s told deeply through time and space in a way.
Vaguely told and kinda lost, this story of friendship a bit empty and felt like it was telling another story. Selznick’s kaleidoscopic art saves it from being a awful waste. A beautiful looking jewel with less than valuable elements. B (75%/Good)
Like others have said, this book was a little confusing, and I think it would be better for teen readers, but still a great book. As always, Selznick's illustrations are amazing, and it was really nice to see the kaleidoscope drawings. It took me 2 months to read the book, so maybe if you read it in a shorter time period, you'll understand it better. Yet another great read by Brian Selznick!