My Little One
Translated from French by Katie Kitamura
Published:
$14.00 – $24.00
By Germano Zullo
Illustrated by Albertine
Translated from the French by Katie Kitamura
Winner of the 2016 Bologna Ragazzi Award, My Little One is drawn in simple gray pencil, a series of sparse, yet emotionally poignant images. A mother, welcoming her tiny son into the world, tells him the story of their lives, whispering to him as she swings him gently around. With each successive page, he grows while she shrinks, until she is being held by the man he has become. An eloquent portrait of life’s waxing and waning, My Little One is a moving celebration of constant, unconditional love, for all ages.
Download an educator’s guide for My Little One
Published on October 27th, 2020
My Little One is the absolute masterpiece of Albertine and Germano Zullo.
The parent becomes the child in this sparsely worded French import. The illustrations, done by 2020 Hans Christian Andersen Illustrator Award winner Albertine, rest in copious white space. They are spare, delicate line drawings in what appear to be pencil . . . The sense of movement on static pages is compelling – all in the form of fine, simple lines and dynamic page turns. This elegant story . . . provides food for thought for more-contemplative children . . . A playful and poignant take on parenthood.
Occasionally, there are drawings that are stronger than words. That is the case with this small book that tells the story of a life. A mother, a child, and the time that passes . . . Deeply moving! (For all ages.)
Oh my, what a beautiful little story! What a wonderful book for a new parent. Where was this book when me and my friends were having children?
Simple, beautiful, effective.
What an emotional, lovely little book. Will be happy to gift this to new parents and recommend it to existing parents in the library.
This is a book about love, the passing of time, and the cycle of our lives. It is also about relationships. Slowly, page after page, the black pencil illustrations on milky white paper tell a restrained, eloquently poetic universal story.
In the stories created by the creative couple, the relationship between the text and image is so perfectly controlled and the articulation between the two crafts is seamless. The reading rhythm makes room for moments of silence, a dreamlike and reflexive pause before turning the next page . . . The mastery of the illustration takes the readers elsewhere: a place they can indulge in a plethora of emotions and feelings that are exacerbated by inspired narration.
This is such a wonderful book, and I am so glad it has been translated into English! It is very simple but still extremely powerful to read. It really illustrates the way our lives go in circles from birth to death.
Whether sober or eccentric, low key or outlandish, the worlds of Albertine are always elegant . . . she mingles reality and fantasy, the trivial and the sublime, dream and memory.
Uplifting in more ways than one, this prizewinning import suggests that little things can change lives – and perhaps even the world.
My Little One surpasses all the others. The book is a lake of pure emotion, the story of a life, of two lives, more precisely, of a mother and a son, revolving in time. Making us laugh and cry with each image, and ask: How is it possible to express so much with the tip of a pencil?
Shimmering, color-saturated landscapes and a message about cherishing small things make this English-language debut by a Swiss team an unexpected treasure.
It seems that the optimal enjoyment of this book would be a parent or adult with a child on their lap, reading aloud the sentences, as the child listens and concentrates on the pictorial depictions . . . One of the final illustrations shows the now grown man cradling his mother to his heart as if laying her to rest . . . The reader’s perspective has now changed as our frame of reference is the boy, now the man gazing at his mother, a position both alien and inherent to our species . . . The capacity to love and care may just be timeless.
My Little One by Germano Zullo is a moving story that is striking in its simplicity. Told through a series of pencil sketches, the journey of a mother and son relationship unfolds over a number of years. As the child grows, the mother's physical stature diminishes, a visual enactment of the circle of life.
. . . an engaging invitation to embrace small, often overlooked treasures. The story unfolds leisurely, almost like an animation.
Humour, sensibilité, excentricité... Albertine dessine des personnages qui lui ressemblent. Ses albums, de joyeux joyaux, observent l’humanité sous toutes ses coutures. (…) Scruter les gens, avec leurs particularités physiques et leurs instabilités d’humeur, traquer leur drôlerie sous-jacente, saisir l’émotivité, la générosité, la peur, la joie qui bataillent en eux. Mais jamais mordre ni se gausser, jamais humilier ni se hausser du col.
Elle a l’art de formuler ses vérités en images, Albertine. La maïeutique, par le crayon.
Les auteurs ne s’en vanteront pas, car ce n’est pas le genre de la maison, mais sitôt qu’un de leurs ouvrages paraît, il provoque la fonte des cœurs et l’ensoleillement des esprits, à l’acclamation générale.
— Marine Landrot, Télérama
The parent becomes the child in this sparsely worded French import. The illustrations, done by 2020 Hans Christian Andersen Illustrator Award winner Albertine, rest in copious white space. They are spare, delicate line drawings in what appear to be pencil . . . The sense of movement on static pages is compelling – all in the form of fine, simple lines and dynamic page turns. This elegant story . . . provides food for thought for more-contemplative children . . . A playful and poignant take on parenthood.
— Kirkus Reviews
Occasionally, there are drawings that are stronger than words. That is the case with this small book that tells the story of a life. A mother, a child, and the time that passes . . . Deeply moving! (For all ages.)
— Astrapi
Oh my, what a beautiful little story! What a wonderful book for a new parent. Where was this book when me and my friends were having children?
— Catherine Hankins, Cleveland Public Library
Simple, beautiful, effective.
— Laura Catto
What an emotional, lovely little book. Will be happy to gift this to new parents and recommend it to existing parents in the library.
— Julia Perham, New York Public Library
This is a book about love, the passing of time, and the cycle of our lives. It is also about relationships. Slowly, page after page, the black pencil illustrations on milky white paper tell a restrained, eloquently poetic universal story.
— Bologna Ragazzi Award Jury
In the stories created by the creative couple, the relationship between the text and image is so perfectly controlled and the articulation between the two crafts is seamless. The reading rhythm makes room for moments of silence, a dreamlike and reflexive pause before turning the next page . . . The mastery of the illustration takes the readers elsewhere: a place they can indulge in a plethora of emotions and feelings that are exacerbated by inspired narration.
— 2018 Hans Christian Andersen Award Jury
This is such a wonderful book, and I am so glad it has been translated into English! It is very simple but still extremely powerful to read. It really illustrates the way our lives go in circles from birth to death.
— Marte Olsen
Whether sober or eccentric, low key or outlandish, the worlds of Albertine are always elegant . . . she mingles reality and fantasy, the trivial and the sublime, dream and memory.
— 2018 Hans Christian Andersen Award Jury
Uplifting in more ways than one, this prizewinning import suggests that little things can change lives – and perhaps even the world.
— Starred Review, Kirkus Reviews (praise for Little Bird)
My Little One surpasses all the others. The book is a lake of pure emotion, the story of a life, of two lives, more precisely, of a mother and a son, revolving in time. Making us laugh and cry with each image, and ask: How is it possible to express so much with the tip of a pencil?
— Marine Landrot, Télérama
Shimmering, color-saturated landscapes and a message about cherishing small things make this English-language debut by a Swiss team an unexpected treasure.
— Starred Review, Publisher's Weekly (praise for Little Bird)
It seems that the optimal enjoyment of this book would be a parent or adult with a child on their lap, reading aloud the sentences, as the child listens and concentrates on the pictorial depictions . . . One of the final illustrations shows the now grown man cradling his mother to his heart as if laying her to rest . . . The reader’s perspective has now changed as our frame of reference is the boy, now the man gazing at his mother, a position both alien and inherent to our species . . . The capacity to love and care may just be timeless.
— Sarah Wang, Vancouver Writers Fest's What We're Reading Right Now blog
My Little One by Germano Zullo is a moving story that is striking in its simplicity. Told through a series of pencil sketches, the journey of a mother and son relationship unfolds over a number of years. As the child grows, the mother's physical stature diminishes, a visual enactment of the circle of life.
— Andrea Pole
. . . an engaging invitation to embrace small, often overlooked treasures. The story unfolds leisurely, almost like an animation.
— Sophie Blackall, The New York Times Book Review (praise for Little Bird)
Humour, sensibilité, excentricité... Albertine dessine des personnages qui lui ressemblent. Ses albums, de joyeux joyaux, observent l’humanité sous toutes ses coutures. (…) Scruter les gens, avec leurs particularités physiques et leurs instabilités d’humeur, traquer leur drôlerie sous-jacente, saisir l’émotivité, la générosité, la peur, la joie qui bataillent en eux. Mais jamais mordre ni se gausser, jamais humilier ni se hausser du col.
— Marine Landrot, Télérama
Elle a l’art de formuler ses vérités en images, Albertine. La maïeutique, par le crayon.
— Chams Iaz, Le Temps
Les auteurs ne s’en vanteront pas, car ce n’est pas le genre de la maison, mais sitôt qu’un de leurs ouvrages paraît, il provoque la fonte des cœurs et l’ensoleillement des esprits, à l’acclamation générale.
— Marine Landrot, Télérama
