Today I bought a picture book during my lunch break at work.

As I walked back into the shop, everyone asked what was in the bag. Naturally. So I showed them.

They looked at me weirdly.I looked back.

They asked me how much. I told them the price.

They looked at me incredulously. I shrugged.

The picture book I am talking about is "The Arrival" by Shaun Tan. Now it's no secret that I'm a massive Shaun Tan fan. His stories are always so absorbing. His illustrations emotive and so damned imaginative that, despite how cliche this sounds, they take you to another place altogether. I would give almost anything to be able to see the world through his eyes...or to be able to explore his mind. "The Arrival" is a particularly meaningful book for a few reasons.


Firstly, I guess it's because I was a migrant too and, despite the vast differences between my experiences and that of the protagonist, I could empathize with him. In leaving one home for another there is always a sense of loss. Coupled with hope and a thinly veiled feeling of dread. All of which are bundled messily in a wad of excitement. This book, despite it's lack of words (or perhaps due to it) is able to convey all of this.

Secondly, "The Arrival" (amongst a few others) served as a source of inspiration for the duration of my final year of high school. I don't think I could have been pushed to finish my Art and English major works had I been unaware of this book. Graphically, it is pure genius. Pretty and soft yet fittingly dramatic and alien. In terms of narrative, it has the things that all successful stories contain: A character who is real, a place which is removed from its readers' immediate realities and subplots which are intriguing in their own rights.

I bought a picture book today.

It cost me $43. I don't regret it one bit.

*photos of my some of favorite pages from "The Arrival" to come later.

x

Reading: Vanity Fair (again)
Listening to: Vincent by Don McLean.