THE NIGHT WHALE

A child narrates a starry winter adventure with Nana, while text and pictures hint at the elder’s transition from earthly life to what’s beyond.

As they’ve often done, the two meet at sunset for stargazing on the hill above the child’s cottage, sharing hot chocolate, a blanket, a telescope, and each other’s company. Nana relates astronomical knowledge and “tales from many moons ago.” Tonight, they wait eagerly for “her, a constellation of crumbs scattered in the wind.” The Night Whale (presumably, the winter constellation Cetus) appears, a huge creature who has a clear connection with Nana. The duo dance together to a “magical song.” With permission, Nana and the child climb onto the whale’s back. Off they fly, above oceans, forests, and cities, past the northern lights, then “home—the long way around.” As the fantastic flight comes to a close, the pair’s multisensory communion on the hillside becomes at once a series of realizations, a container for grief, and a poignant parting. “We were stargazers for so long. Now we are explorers.” O’Mara’s lovely pictures evoke the shimmering luminosity of sunset, sea, and starlight. Nana’s accoutrements—her motorbike, telescope, and binoculars—stud the sky like constellations. In final scenes, the child’s parent is present as Nana, riding the Night Whale, waves in loving departure. The characters are tan-skinned.

A tender affirmation of intergenerational bonds, echoed in a fine-tuned union between words and images.