IT COULD BE WORSE

Two shipwrecked sailors hold different viewpoints about their situation.

Out on the open ocean, Albertini (brown-skinned, with dark hair, wearing a knitted cap and blue sailor stripes) and George (white-skinned, with bright orange hair and a blue sweater) float on a fragment of their ill-fated ship. The placid, empty ocean shows no sign of other sailors nor other parts of the ship. It begins to rain, but just on them: a narrow, personalized storm. Albertini shouts, “This is so unfair!”—but: “It could be worse,” counters chin-up George. A chain of cartoonishly bad (and lackadaisically disparate) events unfolds: Flying fish drop diarrhea on them; mermaids wearing onesies sing a song that gets stuck in their heads; a sea anemone pulls them to the ocean’s floor; a whale swallows them down into its belly, where they find Rodin’s The Thinker, Pinocchio, and telephones from various bygone eras among other esoterica. Each event distresses poor Albertini while chipper George repeatedly murmurs that things could be worse. The refrain begs for an ending with a strong (and pattern-relevant) punch, swerve, or affirmation, but none comes. Instead, several implausible strokes of luck—overly casual luck that the text never acknowledges—reunite Albertini and George with their multiracial crew and the inexplicably restored (though not whole) components of the missing ship. Tsarfati’s wiry illustrations lean on concept more than aesthetic or visual engagement.

This could be worse…but it could be better.