Matteo, congratulations on Tommaso and the Missing Line (Knopf for Young Readers, 2008)! What was the initial inspiration behind this book?
Thank you.
Well, to tell you the truth, I could answer your question in several ways, and each would be right.
For example, I could say that while working on other drawings in the past, and obsessing over carefully drawing line after line – especially lines that cannot be erased – I began to understand the importance of the “fear” associated with the act of drawing a line and its consequence: the line itself tells a story. As a result, I decided that all lines deserve the same kind of care and attention, from the most prominent ones to the least visible ones. And finally, I made up my mind that every line that I draw is – for lack of a better word – special.
Or I could say that, as an architect, I completely share Saul Steinberg’s concern that he so clearly expressed when he said: “The frightening thought that what you draw may become a building makes for reasoned lines.”
And I could add that as a kid (and even now that she is no longer alive) I have always longed to spend time in the country, in central Italy, at my grandmother’s house. And, as a kid (and even now), I have always looked for “excuses” to go back and be with her. A missing line seems to be enough of a reason.
So all of the above hopefully answers your question; and Tommaso, with his search for the missing line, embodies all of these ideas and thoughts. In addition, Tommaso has a very curious mind, and he doesn’t stop at people’s quick responses or suggestions (such as the barber’s, “Why don’t you draw it again?”). His natural response is to go a step further and wonder, “What IS a line?” Do we really know what a line is?
Is there any particular part of the book that you really love?
Probably the part in which Tommaso engages the other characters and, by doing so, he realizes that a line could be many things, and that – vice versa – many things can be turned into a line, and that, perhaps, lines are real things, that they “exist” more than just on a page.
What are some of your favorite children’s books?
All of Edward Gorey’s work addresses children and talks to them in a way that I find very stimulating. (Since that’s how I want stories to be told to me, too.) Surreal or almost-real; and serious or almost-serious. That condition of not knowing exactly where things fall is the most fertile for curiosity and imagination. And, of course, “The Dot and the Line” by Norton Juster.
I didn’t grow up with many children’s books around me, unfortunately. However, I recall reading an Italian writer, Gianni Rodari, who used to tell wonderful Italo Calvino-like short stories, with surreal, unexpected and impossible character and plots, and whose use of the language was the same: surreal, unexpected and impossible (i.e. amazingly playful and fun).
Can you describe your journey from architect to children’s book author-illustrator?
The journey would probably be best described by re-quoting Saul Steinberg here: “The frightening thought that what you draw may become a building makes for reasoned lines.” I was probably never really “frightened” by that thought, but I have always certainly felt the weight and responsibility of the architect’s job as a whole. A responsibility, though, that starts with the very first line he draws on paper and that, one day and somehow, will indeed be built. So drawing, which is also a family trait, never really left me. And I always thought that being able to draw and tell something to a child means that you have to have it clear in your mind in the first place; and that the more serious and direct you are with a child, the more fun and enjoyable it is for them.
What are your main concerns and interests when writing a book for children?
Probably what I just said at the end of my answer above: to be serious and direct. I should also add honest and clear, but it’s all part of the same idea. Once, I heard in a radio program a screenwriter who was being interviewed saying that the problem with so many comedies not being funny is that they are not serious enough. I couldn’t agree more.
What kinds of reactions to your work have you gotten from young readers?
The best, and most interesting, ones are those that make me realize inconsistencies and mistakes that can only come from a child’s incredibly logical and imaginative point of view. For example, my 2 and a half year old daughter instantly noticed Tommaso’s absence in one of the book’s drawings whereas he appears on every other page in the book.
Do you have plans for more children’s books in the future?
Yes, I do. I would like Tommaso to hopefully continue his research and a young boy’s intellectual wandering by looking for a “missing shadow” and perhaps a “missing hole.” I would like to make him to think of “things” that are and aren’t at the same time. How do shadows work? And what are holes, really?
To learn more about Matteo or Tommaso and the Missing Line, please visit www.matteopericoli.com or http://www.facebook.com/pages/Matteo-Pericoli/39173777082
“Each opening of the book is elegant, balanced and draws readers in. A gem.”
Kirkus starred review, November 1, 2008. Ages 4-8.
