Caldecott Medal winner Brian Selznick draws readers in to a world where text and art merge seamlessly
Cinematic, movie-like, evocative of early black and white films—all descriptions used by critics in their reviews of The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, winner of the 2008 Caldecott Medal.
And if the stars align just right, the Selznick novel soon may be coming to a movie screen near you—courtesy of none other than filmmaker Martin Scorsese—according to Variety magazine online and Selznick himself. Warner Bros. and Graham King's Initial Entertainment Group have acquired the screen rights to Selznick's novel as a potential directing vehicle for Scorsese, who has it on his "to-do" list.
"Martin Scorsese is very busy and I don't know where this fits into his schedule," Selznick said in a recent interview. "But he is a brilliant filmmaker and the best working in the industry today. He is also a great historian of the film industry and I'm honored he is involved."
Invention, set in Paris in the 1930s, is the story of Hugo Cabret, a 12-year-old orphan who lives in the walls of the train station and keeps the clocks running after his uncle, the timekeeper, dies. The boy is on a quest to restore an automaton to "life" that his father, a clock maker, had worked on until his tragic death in a fire. Hugo is forced to steal food to survive—and to obtain parts for his automaton. He steals toys from a shop at the station manned by a crotchety old man with a secret who is key to the plot. At one point Hugo wonders why the parts from the toys fit his automaton so well, and after many twists and turns readers learn that the toymaker is Georges Méliès. Méliès, a French filmmaker whose 1902 film A Trip to the Moon, captivated Selznick as a child, made about 500 films, many of which were lost or sold to make heels for shoes. Invention doubles as homage to Méliès.
The 530-page book with 158 black-and-white drawings and relatively few words—some 26,159—begins in telescoping fashion. There is a shot of the moon, and then the viewer/reader is pulled back for a panoramic view of Paris, finally zooming in on Hugo who makes his way through the station to his hidden room in the station's walls. The drawings have an early film "graininess" and one can imagine Hugo's adventures told in raw images like Scorsese's 1980 Oscar-winning Raging Bull, a black-and-white film starring Robert De Niro as boxer Jake LaMotta.
Selznick said he's thought about whether The Invention of Hugo Cabret should be in black and white or color. "I've decided it should be color—there is immediacy to color—though there is great beauty and mystery in black and white," he said. "I've also thought about it being like The Wizard of Oz—beginning in black and white and turning to color or maybe have moments of black and white fit into the narrative." But he laughed and said what he thought likely would not be of great consequence to Scorsese, who no doubt would react in his own fashion, with his own interpretation.
Selznick is very encouraged, however, about the reaction of educators and teachers.
"They have been remarkable," he said. "They took on themes and aspects of The Invention of Hugo Cabret—all of which I hadn't thought of. They have told me how children with learning disabilities, struggling readers, and reluctant readers have taken to the book. Teachers say that the first 40 pages of drawings invite kids into the story so they are excited and not overwhelmed by the text when it arrives."
The Caldecott Medal winner, who already has a Caldecott Honor book (The Dinosaurs of Waterhouse Hawkins, Scholastic, 2002) and numerous other awards, has always loved books, especially picture books.
"I remember as a kid reading books that had pictures at the beginning of each chapter and feeling like I knew when it was close to the time to see a picture again. In Hugo, that sense of excitement is always there as the text dissolves to pictures and back again."
The book has an audience besides those who find more comfort in pictures than words.
"It's not a 'baby book,'" Selznick explains."It's a big, heavy book that feels substantial when you hold it in your hand. I've had kids come up to me and say they're proud to have read a big book like that. I've even had some adults tell me they've never read a book of 500 pages.
"Teachers also have found that the book has great appeal to gifted and talented students. These kids immediately understand how pictures and art and text are interrelated. One teacher described how she watched two boys in class 'read the pictures.'"
Careful readers have posed some interesting questions for Selznick. For instance, "What happened to Hugo's mother? She's never mentioned."
Selznick understands. "Initially I looked for places to put her into the story," he said. "But every time I even hinted at her it demanded more information. The plot was like a machine—everything fits tightly as it is. When children ask me I tell them, 'It's for you to decide. You get to imagine where she is—if she died or left or ran away.'"
And then there's the question of thievery—of characters stealing food, objects, and information. Selznick said much of the story grew out of the need for the mechanics of the plot to fit, and to fit with the life of George Méliès—with the train station and the clocks and how Hugo managed to be there.
In fact, Selznick said, "The thievery started with the image I had about a boy finding an automaton in a pile of junk and 'taking' it. In most of the cases, Hugo stole to survive. The character of Isabelle, (the toy shop owner's foster daughter) seems guarded and judgmental at first, but she also must steal in order to find out the nature of one of the many secrets revealed. Once she does, the two see they are not so different. Both are very lonely but in different ways, and I wanted Isabelle and Hugo to earn each other's friendship.
"The 'thievery' leads to very interesting conversations with children," Selznick said. "They ask why Hugo does it when it's wrong. The ethics of survival come into play, and we talk about how sometimes an act is technically 'wrong' but survival justifies that act. And sometimes survival can be emotional as well as physical. Children see that there are shades of gray—even in a black and white book.
"A friend of mine has reminded me that it's not the artist's job to interpret his or her work. It's the artist's job to make the work. And this book is not a concept book—like a book about justice or friendship. It's story-oriented and because of that, there are various elements that defy easy explanation."
One thing that doesn't defy explanation is Invention's popularity. So far, the book has been translated into 25 languages, but a French version has yet to be released. Selznick is particularly interested in the French reaction because of its connections to their popular cultural icon.
Selznick said at some point a paperback version might be published, but the weight and appearance of the book are important components of the Invention experience. "Scholastic did a wonderful job with the binding and making sure the pages could lie flat so the pictures could be seen as a whole. I don't know if that can be done as paperback," he said. "But I've been thinking of having the golden machinery on the cover raised or embossed so that it can have texture and be touched by readers."
Alas, however, there will be no sequel, but Selznick is working on another book "along the lines of The Invention of Hugo Cabret—with lots of pictures," he said.
For more about Brian Selznick, George Méliès, automatons, and Hugo Cabret, visit www.theinventionofhugocabret.com.
Beyond words. (August 2008). Reading Today, 26(1), 12—13.
Journals
Reading Today