Feathers and Fools

The battle of the birds makes clear that the origins of a conflict may be absurd compared to the ravages of war. The peacocks and the swans share the same pond peacefully, until the differences between them create tension. When the peacocks note that swans can swim and fly, they irrationally fear that they might be forced to swim and fly, too, and prepare to defend themselves. The swans hear the peacocks' talk of fighting and become frightened enough to develop their own tools of war. When a swan flying overhead is mistaken for an aggressor, the war, once launched, lasts until every bird is dead. Fox (Sophie, 1994, etc.) offers an optimistic ending: The next generation of swan and peacock hatchlings note their similarities instead of differences. Wilton's first children's book shimmers with jewel tones, portraying both the elegant coloring of the peacocks and the misty, backlit shades of white in the swans' feathers. The obvious parallel to violence in the human world is fodder for classroom discussion, but the work is much more than its message. In its antique, folktale look, and in the descriptions of the birds' subtle shifts toward antagonism, the book turns Fox into a contemporary Aesop and aptly demonstrates that the roots of war can thrive in a pond of gossip.

Copyright 1996 Kirkus Reviews, LLC Used with permission.

This powerful allegory portrays the dire reactions of a "pride of magnificent peacocks" and a "flock of elegant swans" who cannot see beyond their differences. Upon noticing that the swans can fly and swim, the proud but insecure peacocks are infected by a blind fear that incites a build-up of arms: "a great quantity of feathers which they sharpened into arrows." The swans respond in like manner, and the two species hurl toward mutual destruction. However, "the bloodstained stillness" is redeemed when two chance hatchlings emerge; their celebration of what they hold in common augurs a peaceful coexistence. Fox's (Time for Bed) analogies strike familiar poses of human aggression and nuclear holocaust. While the text's pointed poetry will sink directly into children's hearts, debut illustrator Wilton's symbolically sophisticated, lushly colored acrylic paintings may be too static for younger readers; their mysteries, however, offer sensitive viewers possibilities for contemplation and discovery. Ages 5-8. (Mar.)

Copyright 1996 Publisher’s Weekly, LLC Used with permission.