Agency and Multispecies Communities in Picture Books

Page created by Aaron Romero
 
CONTINUE READING
Agency and Multispecies
Communities in Picture Books
The Snail and the Whale and The Secret

                                                                                                              Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
of Black Rock

MELANIE DUCKWORTH
Department of Languages, Literature, and Culture, Østfold University College, Norway

        Abstract    This article discusses two children’s picture books, The Snail and the Whale (2003),
        written by Julia Donaldson and illustrated by Axel Scheffler, and The Secret of Black Rock
        (2017) by Joe Todd-Stanton, as vibrant and fantastic engagements with multispecies worlds.
        Drawing on new materialism and multispecies studies, the article argues that these two pic-
        ture books exemplify the possibilities inherent in children’s literature of imaging encounters
        with multispecies communities and apprehending the dynamic agencies of the material
        world. With reference to the real marine animals and environments alluded to by the books,
        it addresses the limitations and opportunities of anthropomorphism, and the significance of
        the concept of agency in the environmental humanities and children’s literature studies. It ar-
        gues that the gleeful rhymes of The Snail and the Whale and the awe-inspiring illustrations of
        The Secret of Black Rock are not mere entertainment but serious and playful explorations of con-
        nections between bodies and language, stories and communities, children and adults, human
        and non-human animals, rocks and fish, and agency and the more-than-human world.

        Keywords      children’s literature, new materialism, multispecies studies, Julia Donaldson,
        Joe Todd-Stanton

A    menacing black rock that moves mysteriously about the ocean is revealed to be an
     enormous yet gentle creature, home to thousands of fish. On another rock in a wind-
swept harbor, a snail writes a message to a whale, and climbs on its tail to begin a jour-
ney around the world. The Secret of Black Rock by Joe Todd-Stanton (2017) and The Snail
and the Whale by Julia Donaldson and illustrated by Axel Scheffler (2003) are playful and
fantastic stories for children. If, however, as Jane Bennett suggests, we could do with “a
touch of anthropomorphism” to understand the creative agencies of the non-human
world,1 we should perhaps look closely at spaces and genres in which anthropomorphism

        1. Bennett, Vibrant Matter, 99.

Environmental Humanities 14:1 (March 2022)
DOI 10.1215/22011919-9481495 © 2022 Melanie Duckworth
This is an open access article distributed under the terms of a Creative Commons license (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0).
Duckworth / Agency and Multispecies Communities in Picture Books              163

has traditionally been employed. Stories for children frequently envisage speaking ani-
mals or plants and reflect on fantastical possibilities for action and being. This article
draws on new materialism and multispecies studies to discuss depictions of agency
and multispecies communities in The Snail and the Whale and The Secret of Black Rock,
and makes a case for the significance of children’s literature to the environmental
humanities.
      In Reinventing Eden, Carolyn Merchant calls for a transformed story about the rela-
tionship between humans and nature. She argues that we need to go beyond stories

                                                                                                              Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
that assume human domination over the earth and instead cultivate stories of inter-
connectedness that promote what she terms a “partnership ethic,”2 which “would not
accept the idea of subduing the earth, or even dressing and keeping the garden, since
both entail total domestication and control by human beings. Instead, each earthly
place would be a home, or community, to be shared with other living and nonliving
things. The needs of humans and nonhumans would be dynamically balanced.”3
      Two ideas have prominence here. One is the vision of homes and shared commu-
nities made up of living and non-living things. Equally compelling is an image of earthly
places and creatures as agents, as active and free, not submitted to “total domestica-
tion” or “control by human beings.” Along similar lines, Val Plumwood suggests turning
“to certain kinds of imaginative literature which write nature as agent.”4 With their
ambulatory rocks and literate snails, one place to look for “agentic” stories of homes
“to be shared with other living and non-living things” is picture books for children. As
Zoe Jaques argues, “By imagining ‘being’ as operating beyond bodily or environmental
constraint, children’s fiction, in its attempts to address young readers, can offer sophis-
ticated interventions into debates about what it means to be human or non-human and
offer ethical imaginings of a ‘posthuman’ world.”5 The anthropomorphized rocks and
animals of children’s literature give form to the world apprehended by the new materi-
alisms, in which, as Serenella Iovino and Serpil Oppermann explain, agency “is not to be
necessarily and exclusively associated with human beings and human intentionality,
but it is a pervasive and inbuilt property of matter, as part and parcel of its generative
dynamism.”6 The mobility of the whale and of Black Rock itself can be read as meta-
phors of the agencies of the natural world.
      The Snail and the Whale and The Secret of Black Rock are set at the intersection be-
tween the ocean and the shore, between “wilderness” and civilization: a busy shipping
port and a large shipping town. The whale and Black Rock are both huge, agentive
beings who roam the oceans. They are also homes. The whale becomes the home of a

      2. Merchant, Eden, 223.
      3. Merchant, Eden, 242.
      4. Plumwood, Environmental Culture, 54. Plumwood cites Merchant’s concept of a “partnership ethic” as
“the model that most consistently matched my intuitions about what has gone wrong and about how we might
remedy it.” Plumwood, Environmental Culture, 11.
      5. Jaques, Children’s Literature, 5.
      6. Iovino and Oppermann, “Introduction,” 3.
164        Environmental Humanities 14:1 / March 2022

tiny snail, and Black Rock is home to an entire oceanic ecosystem. Nevertheless, these
powerful creatures are in danger from humans and need to negotiate methods to dwell
together in this world. These picture books thus illustrate Merchant’s vision of a new
story based on a “partnership ethic,” but they also go further. Not only is “each earthly
place . . . a home” but also beings are homes as well.
      Using Merchant’s call for new stories as a departure point, this article discusses
The Snail and the Whale and The Secret of Black Rock as multifaceted texts that at once re-
veal and play with perspectives on multispecies communities, child-adult relationships,

                                                                                                            Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
and the agency of matter. Material ecocriticism understands “the world’s material phe-
nomena [as] knots in a vast network of agencies, which can be ‘read’ and interpreted as
forming narratives, stories.”7 Likewise, scholars working in multispecies studies attest
that “beyond mere survival, particular lifeways in all their resplendent diversity emerge
from interwoven patterns of living and dying, of being and becoming, in a larger world.”8
Multispecies communities are central to both these picture books, which represent hu-
mans as entangled within sustaining and life-giving assemblages of animals, rocks,
and water. Reading the fictional animals and landscapes depicted here in counterpoint
with the real animals and oceans that they gesture toward, I discuss the limitations
and possibilities afforded by the use of anthropomorphism, vivid imagery, and playful
language, and address the intersections of the meanings of agency in the fields of mate-
rial ecocriticism and children’s literature studies. Attentive to the ways in which com-
munication and storytelling are positioned within the narratives themselves, I argue
that these books envisage the formation of new stories of interdependence and adven-
ture, told by, in Donna Haraway’s terms, “unpredictable kinds of we” working together
to create communities of hope, “shared by other living and non-living things.”9

Children’s Literature and the Environmental Humanities
Ecocritical responses to children’s literature have been gaining traction in recent years,
but there is still much work to be done. According to Laurence Buell, “For ecocriticism
the challenge is compounded by the glaring asymmetry between the inherent impor-
tance and richness of the archive [of environmental stories for children] and the move-
ment’s overwhelming emphasis thus far on for-adult genres.”10 In 2016 Clare Echterling
pointed out that after the flagship publication of the anthology Wild Things: Children’s
Culture and Ecocriticism in 2004, the field had been slow to develop.11 This is changing, as
demonstrated by a rapidly increasing number of monographs and essay collections on
children’s literature, ecocriticism, and posthumanism.12 The notion of “ecopedagogy,”

      7. Iovino and Oppermann, “Introduction,” 1.
      8. van Dooren, Kirksey, and Münster, “Multispecies Studies,” 2.
      9. Haraway, Species, 5; Merchant, Eden, 242.
      10. Buell, “Environmental Writing,” 408.
      11. Echterling, “How to Save the World,” 287.
      12. See Heneghan, Beasts at Bedtime; Goga et al., Ecocritical Perspectives; Muris, Posthuman Child;
Ratelle, Animality and Children’s Literature; Tarr and White, Posthumanism in Young Adult Fiction.
Duckworth / Agency and Multispecies Communities in Picture Books   165

as defined by Greta Gaard, has been a popular approach, which examines how chil-
dren’s literature may contribute to the formation of “ecocitizens.”13 There are few stud-
ies of children’s literature directly referencing new materialism, but Macarena García-
González and Justyna Deszcz-Tryhubczak suggest that the new materialisms have a lot
to offer children’s literature studies: “A focus on matter provides openings for research
in our field, as it forces us to rethink adult-child relationalities—with a blurring of the
adult/child binary—and to reimagine critical interpretation with an attention to materi-
alities that exceed the representational paradigm.”14 While this article does retain a

                                                                                                Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
focus on literary representation, it also draws attention to the materiality of language
and image, and the relationship between bodies and signs. Rather than analyze how
the snail, the whale, and the black rock in these stories contribute to children’s under-
standing of environments, I look at what they can tell us about the position of children
and adults in a multispecies world, drawing on Jaques’s view that “children’s fiction of-
fers a heretofore neglected resource for understanding cultures of the human and non-
human and often questions the nature, parameters and dominion of humanity.”15
     The Snail and the Whale is written by the celebrated British children’s author Julia
Donaldson and illustrated by Axel Scheffler. The duo is best known for the internation-
ally beloved The Gruffalo, but Donaldson claims that The Snail and the Whale is her favor-
ite of their joint books, as she feels it captures “something of the soulful whimsy of the
Edward Lear poems [she] enjoyed as a child.”16 In exuberant rhyme, The Snail and the
Whale tells the story of a tiny sea snail who longs to travel, so writes a note on a rock
with her silvery trail: “lift wanted around the world.”17 A whale comes to help and
bears her away on a marvelous adventure. When the whale is confused by the noise of
speedboats and becomes beached, the snail uses her trail once more to alert some chil-
dren, who rally the village to keep the whale alive. Thus the worlds of the snail, the
whale, and the villagers are intertwined: their homes are shared, their lives are open to
moments of encounter and connection.
     Written and illustrated by Joe Todd-Stanton, The Secret of Black Rock was published
in 2017 by Flying Eye books. Todd-Stanton draws on a number of visual styles, including
graphic novels and Tove Jansson’s Moomin stories, to create books in which the pic-
tures are capable of telling most of the story. Young Erin longs to go out to sea, but it is
too dangerous because of “the legend of Black Rock,” a terrifying mountain that can ap-
pear anywhere in the water without warning. When Erin finally manages to encounter
Black Rock, she discovers that the frightening, spiky rock is only the tip of the iceberg:
underneath the waves, Black Rock is an amiable, anthropomorphized creature who is

     13. Gaard, “Children’s Environmental Literature.”
     14. García-González and Deszcz-Tryhubczak, “New Materialist Openings,” 45.
     15. Jaques, Children’s Literature, 7.
     16. Donaldson, “Picture Books.”
     17. Donaldson, Snail, n.p.
166       Environmental Humanities 14:1 / March 2022

home to an astonishing array of sea life. After Black Rock saves her life, Erin needs to
help the adults around her to see what she sees. Sarah Donaldson writes: “The gentle
environmental message takes on a kind of magic in Todd-Stanton’s pictures of Erin sus-
pended in the ocean among incandescent jellyfish or facing down a monstrous, weapon-
ized fishing fleet in the moonlight.”18 On one level, both books are appealing, accessible
renditions of simple environmental activism: to save the whales and stop the destruc-
tion of coastal environments. On another level, however, both books encapsulate
a “kind of magic” that is related to their depictions of vibrant, agentic multispecies

                                                                                               Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
communities.

Homes and Communities
Stories for children tend to be structured around the pattern of home-away-home: the
story begins in a home, then describes a journey ending in a return to or reintegration
with home.19 The Snail and the Whale and The Secret of Black Rock follow this pattern, with
the proviso that the homes at the end of the narratives are transformed. Erin, her
mother, and her dog become welcome, frequent visitors to the community living on
Black Rock, and the whale becomes home to not only the snail but also her friends and
family. As mobile, agentic beings who are also home to communities of animals, the
whale and Black Rock invite readers to expand their own conceptions and experiences
of home.
      The whale and Black Rock are not unique in their dual identities as being and
home. “Home” is often imagined partly by what and whom it excludes, but if our home
is “to be shared with other living and nonliving things,”20 it becomes a much more inclu-
sive space. As Haraway points out in When Species Meet, our own bodies are home to
thousands of other beings: “I love the fact that human genomes can be found in only
about 10 percent of all the cells that occupy the mundane space I call my body; the
other 90 percent of the cells are filled with the genomes of bacteria, fungi, protists. . . .
I am vastly outnumbered by my tiny companions; better put, I become as an adult
human being in company with these tiny messmates.”21
      Our bodies house communities of microscopic creatures that also form connec-
tions and communities with other such “knotted beings.” According to Haraway, hu-
mans and other animals are “beings in encounter”: “As ordinary knotted beings, they
are also always meaning-making figures that gather up those who respond to them
into unpredictable kinds of ‘we.’”22 The whale and the snail, and the Black Rock with its
hundreds of fish, are composite beings, “unpredictable kinds of we,” that move about
the world, open to further encounters.

      18. Donaldson, “Black Rock.”
      19. Nodelman and Reimer, Pleasures, 188–91.
      20. Merchant, Eden, 242.
      21. Haraway, Species, 4.
      22. Haraway, Species, 5.
Duckworth / Agency and Multispecies Communities in Picture Books                   167

     As Thom van Dooren, Eben Kirksey, and Ursula Münster point out: “All living beings
emerge from and make their lives within multispecies communities. . . . Multispecies
scholars are asking how human lives, lifeways, and accountabilities are folded into
these entanglements.”23 Building on the ways that posthumanism has dismantled the
boundaries between humans and non-humans, these scholars embrace metaphors of
entanglement, care, interwoven patterns, and mutual becoming. Deborah Bird Rose
and van Dooren advocate “an ethical practice of ‘becoming-witness’ which seeks to ex-
plore and respond to others in the fullness of their particular ‘ethos’ or way of life.”24

                                                                                                                  Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
The “ethos” of a species includes the ways members of a species relate to themselves
and others—their essences, their cultures, their ways of being. Brett Buchanan points
out that philosophical ethology and, by extension, multispecies studies, concerns itself
with real animals, not representations of them: “and addresses such issues as animal
subjectivity, friendship, communication, and sexuality, all as meaningful modes of ani-
mal comportment. Agency and embodied subjectivity are returned to animals as bear-
ers and givers of meaning.”25
     By attending to the fictional animals and rocks of these stories, I am thus depart-
ing from a key tenet of this kind of work, which if embraced in full would encompass
the physical presences of animals, books, and children. Likewise, García-González and
Deszcz-Tryhubczak note that “the full consequences of embracing relationalities postu-
lated within new materialism also entails understanding texts as matter; that is, as ac-
tive entities whose meaning is not waiting to be decoded.”26 Others have discussed the
material reality and natural histories of picture books themselves27 and analyzed the
posthuman resonances of the embodied ways children often respond to picture
books.28 Even on the level of literary analysis, however, the terminology and observa-
tions of multispecies studies and new materialism provide useful lenses through which
to read these books, which, as I will show, are deeply concerned with the interdepen-
dence of various aspects of the human and more-than-human world. The human chil-
dren depicted in these two picture books model the art of “becoming witness” to the vi-
brant multispecies worlds they discover around them.29

Animals, Anthropomorphism, and Agency
Children’s literature has always been populated with animals, often speaking animals,30
and can thus be said to have always been concerned with imagining multispecies

     23. van Dooren, Kirksey, and Münster, “Multispecies Studies,” 2.
     24. Rose and van Dooren, “Encountering,” 120.
     25. Buchanan, “Bear Down,” 291.
     26. García-González and Deszcz-Tryhubczak, “New Materialist Openings,” 45.
     27. op de Beeck, “Speaking for the Trees.”
     28. Harju and Rous, “Keeping Some Wildness.”
     29. See also Goga, “Interspecies Encounters” for a discussion of interspecies ethics in a children’s book.
     30. Rudd, “Animal and Object Stories.”
168       Environmental Humanities 14:1 / March 2022

communities. Animals are seen as appropriate characters in stories for children for a
number of reasons. For one, animals are seen as largely inappropriate protagonists in
novels for adults.31 As Greg Garrard observes, “Anthropomorphic animal narratives are
generally denigrated as ‘childish,’ thereby associating a dispassionate, even alienated
perspective with maturity.”32 Animal characters are seen as playful, diverting, childish.
Children, however, are expected to be interested in animals and to enjoy them. Children
are also viewed as essentially closer to animals than adults are. In Maurice Sendak’s
Where the Wild Things Are, the “bestial” nature of the boy Max is affirmed when he be-

                                                                                                               Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
comes king of the wild things, but it is initially revealed when Max wears a wolf suit
and torments the family dog with a fork.33 Of course, stories with animal characters are
often not really about animals at all. Animals in children’s stories are frequently anthro-
pomorphized to the extent that they hardly bear any resemblance to real animals. In
Kenneth Graham’s Wind in the Willows (1908), Ratty, Toad, Mole, and Badger are not so
much animals as Edwardian gentlemen.
      Anthropomorphism, or the projection of human attributes onto animals, can
interfere with the apprehension of animals on their own terms. A sea snail cannot
really write words or dream of a journey across the ocean. Rocks do not have legs and
faces. Perhaps representing animals and rocks as having humanlike desires, features,
and agency can blind readers to the real but different forms of agency that creatures
and matter actually have. For example, Robyn Callard suggests that anthropomorphized
and sentimentalized depictions of animal mothers and babies in children’s picture books
restrict children’s access to knowledge about real animal behavior, while simultaneously
projecting an idealized and limited representation of their own mothers.34 Reading
about anthropomorphized fish does not necessarily help the reader imagine what it is
really like to be a fish, and Perry Nodelman suggests it might even induce readers to
look down on fish for not having the same capabilities or desires as themselves.35
These criticisms could be applied to The Snail and the Whale, in which the snail is un-
happy on her entirely appropriate wet black rock and desires a worldwide adventure.
      Donaldson and Scheffler’s snail appears to be a common whelk (Buccinum undatum)
or a dog-whelk, Nucella lapillus, a carnivorous sea snail commonly found around the
coasts of Britain and by nature a fairly sedentary creature. Marine biologist John
Crothers notes that, after a year, he has found marked individuals within thirty centi-
meters of where he left them.36 In the picture book, the snail’s companion snails, who
have no desire to leave home, are depicted as stuffy and unimaginative, surely a

      31. There are of course exceptions: Virginia Woolf’s Flush: A Biography (1933), George Orwell’s Animal
Farm (1945), Robert Adams’s Watership Down (1972).
      32. Garrard, Oxford Handbook of Ecocriticism, 155.
      33. Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are, n.p.
      34. Callard, “Animal Mothers.”
      35. Nodelman, “Fish Is People.”
      36. Crothers, Sea Snails, 31.
Duckworth / Agency and Multispecies Communities in Picture Books   169

somewhat unfair criticism. In a talk about the threatened population of varied and col-
orful snails on the island of Hawai‘i, van Dooren commented that “snails, after all, are
not commonly known for their propensity to undertake long journeys, not by land, and
certainly not by sea.”37 Nevertheless, the ancestors of the spectacularly diverse and
beautiful snails must have arrived there somehow. The best guess of scientists is that a
miniature ancestor of the Hawaiian snails crawled onto the wings of a bird and hitched
a lift across the oceans. So, while snails are not known for long journeys, they do occa-
sionally make them, and not only in books for children. Donaldson’s anthropomor-

                                                                                                Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
phized travelling snail is not quite so impossible as she first appears.
     While anthropomorphism can obscure the true “ethos” of animals, it can also play
a role in apprehending the vibrant agencies of the non-human world. Timothy Clark
summarizes: “It can be at once a mode of understanding non-human animals, a pro-
found barrier to such an understanding, a mode of appropriating animal otherness or a
term that rebounds into the open question of what the human actually is.”38 Anthropo-
morphism can thus, paradoxically, both distort and facilitate encounters with the
natural world. Reflecting on Darwin’s propensity to anthropomorphize worms, which
ultimately gave him insight into their ways of being, Bennett writes: “In a vital material-
ism, an anthropomorphic element in perception can uncover a whole world of reso-
nances and resemblances—sounds and sights that echo and bounce far more than
would be possible were the universe to have a hierarchical structure. We at first may
see only a world in our own image, but what appears next is a swarm of ‘talented’ and
vibrant materialities (including the seeing self ).”39
     Thus while anthropomorphism can be viewed as hopelessly anthropocentric, seen
in another light it can challenge anthropocentrism.40 Anthropomorphism is often re-
garded as inappropriate simply because animals and objects are commonly assumed to
lack agency. As Iovino and Oppermann point out: “Compared to a human endowed with
mind and agentic determinations, the material world—a world that includes ‘inani-
mate’ matter as well as all nonhuman forms of living—has always been considered pas-
sive, inert, unable to convey any independent expression of meaning.”41 The fantastical
elements of children’s literature have always challenged these limitations, often by as-
signing personality, mobility, and intention to those assumed to lack them.
     Black Rock itself is an excellent example of the way in which anthropomorphism
in children’s literature ascribes agency to inanimate matter. An enormous rock that
moves unpredictably about the sea to the peril of passing ships, Black Rock enables read-
ers to discern, in Jeffrey Jerome Cohen’s words, “in the most mundane of substances a
liveliness.”42 As Cohen notes, stone is frequently invoked as a symbol of coldness and

     37. van Dooren, “World in a Shell.”
     38. Clark, Cambridge Introduction, 199.
     39. Bennett, Vibrant Matter, 99.
     40. Wheeler, “Natural Play,” 69.
     41. Iovino and Oppermann, “Introduction,” 3.
     42. Cohen, Stone, 6.
170       Environmental Humanities 14:1 / March 2022

inertness,43 but in reality, over vast stretches of time, it flows, it collects, it tilts, it shat-
ters, it shapes and is shaped by the sea. “Compounded of sediments and telluric cogen-
cies, a maker of heterogeneous aggregates, stone accretes, contains, conveys,” writes
Cohen.44 Todd-Stanton explains that Black Rock was inspired by a strange log that
moves about Crater Lake in Oregon: “An ancient hemlock tree, known as ‘the Old Man
of the Lake,’ has been floating completely upright for more than 100 years.”45 By making
Black Rock a stone rather than a tree, Todd-Stanton chooses a substance at once more
dangerous to humans and more fantastic and ascribes agency to a substance whose

                                                                                                     Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
liveliness is normally overlooked.
      Discussions of the representations of agency in children’s literature are compli-
cated by an awareness of children’s literature as largely an “adult practice”: written,
published, vetted, promoted, and purchased primarily by adults. Representations of
children’s agency within literary texts form part of the socialization of children and can
thus be seen to serve adult agendas and to take place within a world where the real bal-
ance of power is tipped strongly in the adult’s favor. Representations of the power and
agency of children in literary texts may even play a part in children accepting a more
limiting role outside them.46 Jaqueline Rose has famously argued that children’s litera-
ture, as written and published by adults, has remarkably little to do with real children as
it is premised on “the impossible relation between adult and child”: “Children’s literature
sets up a world in which the adult comes first (author, maker, giver) and the child comes
after (reader, product, receiver), but when neither of them enter the space between.”47 As
Marah Gubar explains, in an effort to recognize the “power imbalance that complicates
the relationship between older and younger people,” Rose emphasizes the radical alter-
ity between adult and child.48 In contrast, Gubar advocates a “kinship” model of child-
hood agency, in which children, like adults, are both “scripted and scripting.” A “kinship
model” acknowledges that “children, like adults, have agency, even if aspects of the
aging process are likely to limit the form or degree of agency that they have.”49 “The
concept of kinship indicates relatedness, connection, and similarity without implying
homogeneity, uniformity, and equality.”50 This notion of a kinship model of agency is a
natural fit for metaphors of entanglement employed in multispecies scholarship, which
“focusses on the multitudes of lively agents that bring one another into being through
entangled relations that include, but always exceed, dynamics of predator and prey, par-
asite and host, researcher and researched, symbiotic partner, or indifferent neighbor.”51

      43. Cohen, Stone, 6.
      44. Cohen, Stone, 8.
      45. Booklife, “Interview with Joe Todd-Stanton”; Grange, “Old Man of the Lake.”
      46. Kelen and Sundmark, Child Autonomy and Child Governance.
      47. Rose, The Case of Peter Pan, 1-2.
      48. Gubar, “Risky Business,” 451.
      49. Gubar, “Hermeneutics,” 300.
      50. Gubar, “Risky Business,” 453.
      51. van Dooren, Kirksey, and Münster, “Multispecies Studies,” 3.
Duckworth / Agency and Multispecies Communities in Picture Books   171

     In The Snail and the Whale and The Secret of Black Rock, adult attempts to protect or
educate children are depicted as restrictive and damaging. On the school playground in
The Snail and the Whale, the children are depicted by Scheffler as happy and creative—
moving, laughing, and drawing in the dirt, but as soon as they are called into the class-
room they become limp and uninspired, despite their cheerful paintings of nature dis-
played behind the blackboard. Likewise, Erin is depicted as having a natural affinity for
nature, but her curiosity is stifled by the adults who fear for her safety. These fears end
up endangering Erin herself as well as Black Rock and the ecosystem that depends on it.

                                                                                                Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
These two stories question the role of adults in restricting the agency of children, and
they depict children as particularly receptive to a life-giving apprehension of the agency
of the non-human.
     The notion of children having a special connection with nature harks back to Ro-
manticism, and it could be argued that the picture books in general present a romanti-
cized version of nature. The benign and friendly ocean depicted in these books is a
simplified, positive environment. Erin’s mother is right to caution Erin—a child disap-
pearing into the ocean in a storm is unlikely to survive. In contrast, positivity and
happy endings are a generic requirement of books for young children. For Buell, this is
a potential problem. He cautions that “the sense of urgency surrounding eco-didactic
agendas of whatever sort in contemporary children’s literature may easily be contained
by such pleasurable elements as adventuresome plotlines, enticing illustrations, and
upbeat closure.”52 While this is true, and all three of these elements are intrinsic parts
of The Snail and the Whale and The Secret of Black Rock, to dismiss them as frivolous risks
missing the point. All literature, even dark, pessimistic literature, contains aspects of
pleasure. It is unhelpful to view “enticing illustrations” merely as bait or distraction.
Todd-Stanton’s illustrations are indeed enticing, but this does not preclude the fact
that they are nuanced responses to the wonder of oceanic ecosystems. Likewise, Do-
naldson’s playful and pleasurable use of the rhymes snail, whale, tail, and tale does not
just decorate her story but generates it. “Adventuresome plotlines, enticing illustra-
tions, and upbeat closure”53 are essential structural components of what are, at once,
playful, joyful, and serious engagements with the natural world.

Enticing Illustrations and Multispecies Communities
It is through the visual mode of illustration that both books locate themselves in rela-
tion to specific regions and ecosystems. In the opening illustration of The Snail and the
Whale, a ship in the harbor called Pride of Glasgow situates the creatures in a named
place. At the beginning of The Secret of Black Rock, the species depicted are those one
would expect to find near a Newfoundland fishing village: seals, puffins, and fish in
shades of brown and grey. The lighthouse on Black Rock’s head is modeled on lighthouses

     52. Buell, “Environmental Writing,” 418.
     53. Buell, “Environmental Writing,” 418.
172       Environmental Humanities 14:1 / March 2022

Todd-Stanton admired while on holiday in Canada: “I also try and connect things to the
real world as much as possible, so I looked at a lot of coral reef photography and ani-
mals local to Newfoundland.”54 Illustrations also enable the depiction of multiple per-
spectives and relationships in a way that is difficult to achieve with words alone. For
Kimberley Reynolds, “a crucial part of the explanation for why children’s literature is so
good at stimulating and nurturing innovation is that many children’s texts operate on
two semiotic systems simultaneously: the visual and the textual . . . the word-image dy-
namic is particularly adept at giving expression to meanings and concepts that reside

                                                                                                Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
at the edges of language.”55
      The coastal setting of The Snail and the Whale and The Secret of Black Rock is particu-
larly apt for representations of agentic nature entangling with human presences. Stacy
Alaimo’s concept of “marine trans-corporeality” links “humans to global networks of
consumption, waste, and pollution, capturing the strange agencies of the ordinary stuff
of our lives.”56 Items such as plastic bags and other waste have a “strange agency” that
can propel them far out to sea to the detriment of marine animals. The illustrations of
these books quietly draw attention to this agency. The rubbish depicted in the harbor
in The Snail and the Whale, and the anchor and fishing twine tangled around Black Rock’s
legs in The Secret of Black Rock, attest to presence and agency of human waste. The illus-
trations anchor the texts in rich—and compromised—multispecies environments.
      From the beginning of The Secret of Black Rock, Erin embodies wonder for and curi-
osity about the natural world. On the opening two-page spread, Erin is already situated
in a multispecies community. She is depicted lying on her stomach at the end of a small
jetty with her dog Archie, gazing into the water where fish glide and seals frolic. In the
background is her house, the shipping town, and a harbor filled with ships. This scene
is visually repeated at the end of the book, but with a difference: Erin and Archie still ob-
serve the seals and the fish, but instead of lying on the jetty they are draped happily on
Black Rock’s nose. Their multispecies community has moved farther out to sea and ex-
panded a thousand-fold. The seal now looks directly up at Archie, and their gazes meet.
On the opposite page, safe in the dark under his new lighthouse, Black Rock plays with a
seal who smiles, meeting its gaze, while shoals of fish and groups of jellyfish drift around
them. Another seal and a turtle play hide-and-seek around Black Rock’s arm, again,
looking directly at each other.
      This visual depiction of multiple creatures looking at one another can be achieved
in a picture book perhaps more eloquently than in any other medium. It is also a central
feature of The Snail and the Whale. The creatures depicted in the text, in Scheffler’s char-
acteristic style, have round eyes and sideways glances—they look at one another and at
the reader, commenting on the action. The whale and the snail look into each other’s

      54. Schuit, “Let’s Talk Illustrators.”
      55. Reynolds, Radical Children’s Literature, 17.
      56. Alaimo, “Oceanic Origins,” 188.
Duckworth / Agency and Multispecies Communities in Picture Books                173

eyes in nearly every frame. The gazes of many other animals are also recorded: the eyes
of seagulls, cats, dogs, bears, penguins, turtles, and sharks are wide and expressive.
While the intensely visual nature of these interspecies relationships is a form of anthro-
pomorphism, as for many animals, other senses such as smell and touch are more sig-
nificant than sight, it is still an effective mode of portraying multiple, decentralized con-
nections between agentive beings. The prominence of the gaze between human and
animal, and between animals, brings to mind John Berger’s seminal essay “Why Look
at Animals?”57 Berger argues that animals have become something to be observed but

                                                                                                                  Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
not encountered. He says a gaze between human and animal in which the otherness
of the other is acknowledged and met is largely a thing of the past—but this is the kind
of gaze depicted in these books. It differs from Laura Mulvey’s concept of the “male
gaze,”58 with its assumption of a power imbalance, resembling instead, in Iovino’s
terms, a “horizontal”59 connection between equals.
      Although the animals in these books are illustrated with large eyes and friendly
expressions, they are depicted as recognizable species. On his website, Scheffler apolo-
gizes for his nonanatomic rendering of the whale’s tail. In the illustrations of the book,
the whale’s tail is curved upward, sticking out of the water, for the snail to ride on it: “I
enjoyed doing the big landscapes. But had to take great liberties with scale and whale
anatomy to make this work—I know they don’t really bend like that.”60 The drawings of
the whale and the snail thus simultaneously invoke real species, and they fantastically
reinterpret them to imagine an unlikely relationship that none the less holds echoes of
real symbiotic connections.61 The dense, colorful constellation of aesthetically pleasing
species that surround Black Rock, however, exceeds that found in any particular oceanic
environment. There is a blue whale, a sperm whale, and a huge red octopus. There are
squid, clown fish, puffer fish, swordfish, stingrays, crabs, turtles, and angler fish bearing
their strange lanterns from the deep. The abundance of life resembles a rich and color-
ful tropical coral reef, and its appearance off the coast of a Newfoundland shipping
town is nothing short of miraculous. While one could complain about the inaccuracy of
this impossible ecosystem, Todd-Stanton’s rich and alluring illustrations invite experi-
ences of wonder at the natural world by transposing it into a fantastical context. The
New Zealand children’s writer Margaret Mahy explains that “rather than thinking of
the imagination as the ability to summon into being the vision of things that have no
real existence I think of it as the ability to work creatively with reality.”62 These books

      57. Berger, About Looking.
      58. Mulvey, “Visual Pleasure.”
      59. Iovino, “Ecocriticism,” 44.
      60. Scheffler, “Snail and the Whale.”
      61. The image of an ecosystem built around a large creature has many real-life variants. While humpback
whales do not carry sea snails, they are frequently encrusted with barnacles. One recently discovered ecosystem
based on the body of a whale is one that emerges around a “whale fall”—when the bodies of dead whales sink to
the bottom of the sea (Bastian, “Whale Falls”).
       62. Duder, Margaret Mahy, pt. 3.
174      Environmental Humanities 14:1 / March 2022

work creatively with the reality of multispecies communities, in ways that do not
merely entertain but envision the dynamic assemblages that make up our world.

The Power of Stories
Both The Secret of Black Rock and The Snail and the Whale are stories about the power of
stories, and the difficulty of rewriting them. Before Erin and the reader encounter Black
Rock directly, they encounter “the legend of BLACK ROCK!”63 An image of Black Rock is
depicted menacingly in a dark, foamy sea, painted on a parchment adorned with skull

                                                                                                Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
and crossbones. On the opposite page, we meet characters who perpetuate this legend:
“Every fisherman and fisherwoman had a scary story to tell. ‘It never stays in the same
place and it could smash a boat to pieces!’ ‘It’s as big as a mountain and as sharp as a
swordfish!’”64 The speech bubbles of the fisherman and woman are illustrated with
Gothic visions of terrifying scenarios. Erin is horrified and fascinated. She wants to see
for herself but is not allowed out to sea, as, according to the legend itself, it is much too
dangerous. The power of this negative legend is reinforced when, later in the narrative,
Erin attempts to tell a different story. Black Rock saves her from drowning, and she dis-
covers it is a joyful, benign creature, home to a multitude of sea life. The text on this
page (as in the rest of the book) is deceptively simple, but the picture is iconic: “Back
home, Erin tried to explain how Black Rock had saved her, but no one would listen prop-
erly.”65 Little Erin stands in the center, ringed about with adults who tower over her. Her
small speech bubble depicts a smiling, rosy-cheeked Black Rock. In all the adult’s minds,
however, looming over them all is a shared thought bubble containing a very different
picture: an angry, monstrous Black Rock with clawlike hands raised menacingly out of
the water.
      Erin’s attempt to tell a new story initially fails, illustrating Merchant’s observation
that “a new ending . . . will not come about if we simply read and reread the story into
which we were born. A new story can only be written by human action.”66 Far from con-
vincing the adults to care for Black Rock, Erin’s new story prompts their decision to
immediately destroy it. It is up to Erin to climb out of her window, row out to sea, and
perch on Black Rock’s nose to stop the ships with “metal claws and drills” from tearing
it apart. It is not just human action that enables the story to change, however, but the
action of the natural world and the creatures within it: “One by one all the creatures
that lived on Black Rock swam up to the surface. In the moonlight, the sea lit up. The
fishermen and fisherwomen had never seen such a beautiful sight! In that moment,
they saw how wrong they were. Black Rock wasn’t a monster but a home to all these
amazing creatures.”67

      63. Todd-Stanton, Black Rock, n.p.
      64. Todd-Stanton, Black Rock, n.p.
      65. Todd-Stanton, Black Rock, n.p.
      66. Merchant, Eden, 242.
      67. Todd-Stanton, Black Rock, n.p.
Duckworth / Agency and Multispecies Communities in Picture Books    175

     Acting together with the sea creatures, the rock itself, the moon, and what appears
to be an occurrence of luminescence, Erin enables the fishermen and fisherwomen to
experience a vision so splendid that it changes their minds and their stories forever.
This moment of encounter and communication enables, for the first time, the fisher-
men and fisherwomen to embrace the arts of attentiveness—they can attend, finally, to
the being and ethos of Black Rock instead of perpetuating myths that will destroy it.
     Like The Secret of Black Rock, The Snail and the Whale is also in many ways a story
about the power of stories. Merchant remarks: “As we use narrative to re-create the

                                                                                                   Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
human place in the more-than-human world, we can learn to reconnect with nature as
an equal partner. For [David] Abram that reconnection occurs through ‘the practice of
spinning stories that have the rhythm and lilt of the local soundscape, tales for the
tongue, tales that want to be told, again and again.’”68
     The Snail and the Whale is certainly a tale “for the tongue” that wants “to be told,
again and again.” It does not directly transcribe nature, but its rhythm, repetition, and
playful, exuberant rhymes underscore a deep and life-giving connection between narra-
tive and the natural world. This is nowhere more apparent than its gleeful use of the
homophones tail and tale. The “tale” of the snail and the whale is the story of a sea
snail who hitches a ride on the “tail” of a whale. Thus the story itself, the “tale,” is
dependent on an identical-sounding piece of the whale’s anatomy—his tail. Together
with the title characters, the snail and the whale, these words headline a list of cheeky
and glorious rhymes that echo throughout the text: tail, tale, snail, whale, trail, fail, frail,
pale, sail. These rhyming words encapsulate the essences of the protagonists and gener-
ate the narrative—the whale and the snail exist together in the story because they
rhyme. The narrative emerges from a pattern of sounds connecting body, sign, and
story in a way that resonates with Wendy Wheeler’s work on biosemiotics—through
semiotic processes such as DNA, the natural world creatively generates signs that in
turn generate matter, and the mechanics of evolution, as well as language, can be de-
scribed as “play.”69 Karen Coats points out that the meaning of children’s poetry cannot
be reduced to the interpretation of its content, and that “such interpretation is in itself
an effacement of the true meaning . . . which, . . . is at least partly to connect the body
to language in a material and sensual, rather than linguistically or conceptually mean-
ingful way.”70 The “ai” sounds in the poetry of the picture book delight readers and lis-
teners and connect their bodies to language, while conceptually linking the bodies of
the snail and the whale.
     When reading this story to my children, they have often asked why the snail is de-
scribed as having an “itchy foot.” It does not seem to make sense, as snails do not ap-
pear to have any feet.

     68. Merchant, Eden, 227.
     69. Wheeler, “Natural Play,” 68, 70, 75.
     70. Coats, “Children’s Poetry,” 133.
176       Environmental Humanities 14:1 / March 2022

      This is the tale of a tiny snail
      And a great big, grey-blue humpback whale.
      This is a rock as black as soot,
      And this is a snail with an itchy foot.71

I have always explained that it is sort of a joke; it means that the snail is restless and
wants to travel the world. I was delighted to discover, however, that snails do indeed
have “feet,” or at least a “foot.” What nonexperts in snail anatomy would call its body,
is, in fact, known as its foot.72

                                                                                                 Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
      The other snails do not understand the snail with the itchy foot and implore her to
“stop wriggling, sit still, stay put!”73 Stuck on the rock, the snail is bored and disconso-
late until she has the brilliant idea to write a message with her silvery trail:

      This is the trail
      Of the tiny snail,
      A silvery trail that looped and curled
      And said . . .
      Lift wanted around the world74

Donaldson’s literate and anthropomorphized creatures do not directly represent the
natural world. Animals do not speak to one another with words, and they certainly do
not write notes in English to one another. However, as Rose and van Dooren point out:
“We are participants in a more than human world, a life-world that is communicating
through and through. Almost all of the communication has nothing to do with us.”75
The trails of snails do not generally form sentences, but they do speak of the presence
and the pathways of the snail; they do record, for a while, the snail’s meanderings;
they do shine silver in certain lights; and they do intrigue children. The mucous produc-
tion of snails enables them to move, but their trails are also methods by which they
communicate with one another: snails will seek out and follow the trails left by their
own species, enabling them to conserve energy and assist with reproduction.76 By al-
lowing the snail to write with her trail, Donaldson not only hit on an ingenious narra-
tive device but also enabled the snail to express herself in a way that is congruent with
the gifts and limitations of her own body, like that other famous animal scribe in chil-
dren’s literature—the spider Charlotte from Charlotte’s Web.77 Parts of The Snail and the

      71. Donaldson, Snail, n.p.
      72. Heller, Sea Snails, 11.
      73. Donaldson, Snail, n.p.
      74. Donaldson, Snail, n.p.
      75. Rose and van Dooran, “Encountering,” 123.
      76. Heller, Sea Snails, 19; Townsend, “Mucus Trail Following”; Ng et al., “Mucus Trail.”
      77. White, Charlotte’s Webb.
Duckworth / Agency and Multispecies Communities in Picture Books       177

Whale can thus be understood as instances of what Aaron M. Moe terms “zoopoetics”:
“the process of discovering innovative breakthroughs in form through an attentivness
to another species bodily poiesis.”78 While snails “write” with their trails, whales com-
municate by singing. Curiously, their songs also communicate very powerfully with hu-
mans. Katharine Dow remarks on “the huge positive impact that the popular dissemi-
nation of audio recordings of humpback whale song had on the campaign to end
whaling.”79 Appropriately, Donaldson’s “humpback whale, immensely long, / Who sang
to the snail a wonderful song,” also sings.80

                                                                                                         Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
      The snail’s trail makes an appearance again at the most crucial point of the story.
When the whale becomes beached, the snail who felt “so small” as they traveled the
world realizes that her smallness can now come in handy: “I can’t move on land, I’m
too big, moaned the whale.”81 The snail discovers she can save the whale after all, and
in a sequence that echoes the mood and language of the beginning of the book, she en-
ters a classroom and writes on the blackboard:

      ‘A snail! A snail!’
      The teacher turns pale.
      ‘Look!’ say the children.
      ‘It’s leaving a trail.’
      This is the trail
      Of the tiny snail,
      A silvery trail saying . . .
      Save the whale!82

As Dow points out, “the Save the Whale campaign was one of the first modern manifes-
tations of the Green movement and cetaceans retain a prominent role in environmen-
talism.”83 The snail’s words are particularly moving for the way they parse the familiar
environmental slogan, while at the same time forming the climax to a rhythmic repeti-
tion of the book’s key rhymes: “snail . . . snail . . . pale . . . trail . . . trail . . . snail . . .
trail . . . whale!” In this scenario, it is the children who are attentive to the being and
ethos of the snail. The liveliness and agency of the natural world are out of place in the
classroom—the teacher is depicted as horrified by the presence of the snail, but the
children’s natural curiosity and wonder enable them to read the snail’s message and re-
spond to it.

      78. Moe, Zoopoetics, 17.
      79. Dow, “Seeing with Dolphins,” 147.
      80. Donaldson, Snail, n.p.
      81. Donaldson, Snail, n.p.
      82. Donaldson, Snail, n.p.
      83. Dow, “Seeing with Dolphins,” 146.
178      Environmental Humanities 14:1 / March 2022

      The snail’s “tale,” expressed through her “trail,” saves the whale’s life. But the tale
has still more work to do. Once they are free, the snail and the whale return to the
snail’s former home at the dock. In some ways, The Snail and the Whale is the tale of a
tale of a tail. The snail and the whale tell their story to the community of snails they
left behind, who, after some obligatory clichés—“how time’s flown / And haven’t you
grown”—not only listen but also are inspired to join the adventure. The story changes
their lives: “And then the whale held out his tail / And on crawled snail after snail after
snail.”84 As one who has left home in search of adventure and now find myself settled

                                                                                                 Downloaded from http://read.dukeupress.edu/environmental-humanities/article-pdf/14/1/162/1481390/162duckworth.pdf by guest on 13 March 2022
on the opposite side of the globe to friends and family, I find the end of this book at
once utopian and unusually satisfying. The snail can have her adventure, and her fam-
ily, and her home, all at the same time. It is also the story of a community ready to
change. Both The Snail and the Whale and The Secret of Black Rock animate the ways in
which multispecies communities work together and travel together to create new sto-
ries of adventure, encounter, belonging, and hope.

Conclusion
The Snail and the Whale and The Secret of Black Rock are engaging representations of chil-
dren’s agency because they are more than this—they entwine depictions of children’s
agency with depictions of the agency of the natural world. The child characters act out
of curiosity, wonder, and deep engagement, which enlivens both themselves and the
adults around them. When we recognize the natural world as agentic and sentient, we
are closer to perceiving our own place within it, and our dependence on it. These stories
of agentic beings that are also homes help us realize this. Just as it is for the snail on the
whale’s tail, and the fish thronging around Black Rock, our home is an enormous body
making its way through a wide and wondrous world.
      Multifaceted agencies converge in these texts. Animals, oceans, rocks, children,
adults, narratives, rubbish, machines, and the real and the fantastic influence and are
influenced by the other actors. The agencies of animals and rocks and children and
adults work together to enable homes and communities to thrive. These communities
are not closed off but are open to encounter and even to movement throughout the
world. The creatures and humans “make kin” and “make homes” of one another. Songs
are heard, trails are read, gazes are met, bodies are touched and carried, journeys are
taken, homes are formed and saved. It could be argued that these hopeful fables of care
and community are simplified and utopian. However, a complaint often made about
environmental narratives is that by being too negative they destroy hope and can have
the effect of prompting lethargy, not action. These stories envisage worlds in which the
largest and smallest of beings are noticed and responded to with wonder, curiosity, and
attention. Like Erin’s community and the flock of snails on the wet black rock, we would
all do well to ensure that we are listening properly.

      84. Dow, “Seeing with Dolphins,” 146.
You can also read