"There are so many reasons to love this book—the poetry of the language, the expressiveness of the art. For me Monsieur Marceau demonstrates what the perfect picture book can accomplish: words and text working together to provide a unique reading experience. Marceau and his performances come alive in this slim volume. If you or the children in your life appreciate the performing arts, you will delight in sharing this book."
Lynn Rutan and Cindy Dobrez review MONSIEUR MARCEAU for BooklistOnline!
"...Schubert uses an economy of beautifully turned phrases to introduce children to this one-of-a-kind performer. Bravo."
Lynn: "Schubert’s text and DuBois’ illustrations have captured the essence of Marceau and my squashed hat is off to them both!"
"Gr 1-3–It is fitting that this superb picture-book biography is short on words and long on visuals. The spare text marvelously captures the essence of the artist, depicting a man whose choice to be silent was born of an awareness of the damages of war. Born in 1923 to a musical family who lived near the French/German border, Marceau idolized Charlie Chaplin and began emulating him at a young age. When World War II broke out, residents of Strasbourg were forced to leave their homes, and later Marceau joined the French Resistance. After the war, he changed his original surname, Mangel, to Marceau “so that people wouldn’t know he was Jewish.” Marceau studied mime and created the character Bip, whose smashed stovepipe hat, white makeup, red carnation, and sad eyes became known the world over. The stunning oil pastel paintings are as somber, joyful, and expressive as the man himself; they depict him fighting a bull, chasing butterflies, or crumbling in sadness. Covering much the same ground as Gloria Spielman’s Marcel Marceau (Lerner, 2011) but in a more compelling manner, this exquisite book has an informative afterword and a page on the art of miming. A noteworthy choice for all collections.–Teri Markson, Los Angeles Public Library"
Audiences thrilled to his mesmerizing performances, in which he spoke through his expressive body without uttering a single word.
Marceau was the world’s most popular and beloved mime. Born in France, he grew up watching and imitating Charlie Chaplin, star of silent films. World War II intruded and turned the Jewish teen into a war hero. At war’s end, he created Bip, his alter ego, who with makeup and costume “walks against the wind, but there is no wind.” Schubert’s spare text is both poetic and dramatic. DuBois’s oil paintings are brilliantly executed and saturated, with textured nuances. Images of Marceau fly across the page, delighting the eye, while close-ups highlight his extraordinary facial expressions. Ordinary paper morphs into stage settings as Marceau dances against white or black backgrounds. One double-page spread depicts a costumed fish with sinuously expressive hands and feet. Another presents seven views of Marceau in movement, updating a series of views of Marceau as a child. The pages set during World War II, in contrast, are a somber palette. Don’t turn the pages too quickly; rather stop and feel the joie de vivre with which the master filled people of all ages all over the world.
An exceptional life; a stunning achievement. (afterword, source notes, further reading) (Picture book biography. 4-10)
The childlike humor of Marcel Marceau’s white-faced alter-ego, Bip, naturally appeals to many young children, making the famous mime a good subject for a picture-book biography for the very young. And Schubert knows just how to write for this audience (“Look at this man. He climbs imaginary stairs. He bows to an invisible person. He tames a lion no one can see. He plays a violin that isn’t there”). Her simple declarative sentences artfully capture the essence of Marceau as a performer, as do DuBois’s vigorous illustrations, which strikingly cast Marceau as a mostly white figure against a black background, giving us a sense of his stage performances and the singular way he communicated with his body. Everywhere are those expressive eyes, wide open and outlined in black, inviting us to see what he sees. The emphasis here is on Marceau as an artist, but Schubert does not shy away from the facts of his early life as a persecuted Jew during the Holocaust, and her understated style is all the more powerful for her crisp account of these events. Gloria Spielman’s Marcel Marceau: Master of Mime (rev. 11/11) is a more thorough biography in picture book form, but this one has so much more passion and gives a better sense of Marceau’s art. An afterword provides additional background, sources, further reading, and tips for getting started in mime. kathleen t. horning
"...In the first half of the book, DuBois’s (Stories for Young People: Edgar Allan Poe) stately paintings pay homage to Marceau’s bravery. In the second, Schubert details Marceau’s phenomenal success (“He traveled the world—appearing on television and on stage, for presidents and princesses, kings and queens”), and DuBois’s portraits help explain mime to those unfamiliar with it (“He walks against the wind, but there is no wind”). Schubert gives depth and compassion to a performer whose art might otherwise be mistaken for clowning. One afterword provides more information about Marceau; another describes mime and supplies some easy exercises."
In my post on Cynthia Leitich Smith's website, I mentioned the photo in the back of the book, and I want to tell you more about it. Finding usable photos of M. Marceau is not easy, and paying for the use of photos in a picture book can be quite expensive. Researching photos, however, is both challenging and fun.
I'll save you from all the details. But with wonderful serendipity, I found the perfect photo. Rob Mermin, who is mentioned in the book and was the founder of Circus Smirkus, told me that some Smirkus parents might have something. Why? Because M. Marceau actually came to Vermont and performed in a circus, which he had never done, and that was Circus Smirkus. He also spoke in costume in front of an audience for the first time in his life. I loved the Vermont connection, I loved the heart of the story, and I asked for the name of someone with photos.
Robert Sugarman, Rob said. I laughed. Though I've never met Bob Sugarman, I know his wife, Sally. She was Chair of the State Board of Education when I worked at the Department of Ed, and she also joined me on the Dorothy Canfield Fisher book award committee for several years.
I spoke to Sally, who spoke to Bob, who said of course and who sent me the photo of my dreams: Marcel Marceau smiling and in costume, holding hands with circus kids, in Vermont. And all I could do in return for Bob and Sally was to send them a copy of the book, which I was very very happy to do. Amazing, yes? Yes!