Behold the Trees

A land once protected by all sorts of wonderful trees is reduced over time by war and environmental neglect to desert, until new inhabitants plant trees and slowly make Israel bloom again.

Gr 3-5-Telling the history of Israel through the fate of its trees must have seemed a poetic approach-and the illustrations are suitably graceful. Everyone, from Hebrews to Romans to Christians to Turks, cuts trees down. Only in the last 50 years have millions been replanted. And there you have the story. Hugely uneven steps mark historical periods: 3000 years or 1000 are passed over in a page, while another page covers four years. The list of native species is euphonious, but will readers know an acacia from a terebinth? Because of an absence of precise illustration, one tree looks much like another. Gore's acrylics blend realism and stylization, but don't teach botany. There are a few line drawings evoking historic sources (e.g., the Arch of Titus), but the main appeal is simply lyrical, and that might not be enough incentive to plant this book on your shelves.-Patricia Lothrop-Green, St. George's School, Newport, RI

Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.

Tracing the horticultural history of the land now known as Israel, Alexander (One More Time, Mama) delicately but powerfully implies a parallel between its trees of and the Jews who settled there. Beginning in 5000 BCE, she fleshes out a timeline that blends history and ecology to chronicle the cycle of bloom, destruction and renewal that has characterized this land over the centuries. She tells of "centuries of wandering the time of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob," of farming and settlement, of occupations and wars, from the Babylonians and Romans to the Turks and the British. The land stands stripped of its timber until "no owls or doves remained to soar through the air or trill their songs." Rejuvenation begins after WW I, as Jews the world over save to fund the purchase of new trees, trees that have restored present-day Israel to its former beauty. Alexander's poetic imagery ("fires sent twists of smoke into the air") and elegiac refrains ("And no new trees were planted") are heightened by Gore's (Sleeping Boy) resonant, haunting pairing of shepherds and prophets, soldiers and settlers with the graceful flow and sweep of branches and leaves. He plants Corinthian columns of a conquering nation side by side with tree trunks, one of many visual metaphors that hint at the interconnectedness of life. Profoundly satisfying. All ages.

Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.

Ages 5-8. "Oak and almond, fig and olive," the names of trees make an incantation in this beautiful book, in which both the text and images are sinewy and delicate. Alexander begins when the land we know as Israel was covered in forests, thousands of years ago. Shepherds come, then farmers and wars, many wars. And the trees come down--for land, for building, for weapons of war--until the forests were gone, and the land is "salt marsh and sand." But after World War I, people began planting trees, with Jews from around the world contributing money to have them planted to commemorate births, deaths, and other events. Now the land is filled with trees, "cypress and pine, eucalyptus and acacia, orange and olive." Gore's acrylic-and-pencil illustrations are brilliantly imagined. A full-page illustration faces the text page, followed by a wordless double-page spread. Each image is filled with trees that reflect the story: the blood-red shadow of felled trees overlays images of war; trees are metamorphosed into Roman columns; trunks and limbs form dreamlike images of scholars, readers, mothers. A strong, exquisite, and magical choice. GraceAnne DeCandido
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved