Allsburg's Art Gives The Wreck of the Zephyr Wings

I live within miles of Lake Erie, site of some of the ghastliest shipwrecks in American history. Its murky depths are littered with the skeletons of majestic vessels caught in a losing battle with the ferocious waves. In Chris Van Allsburg's haunting The Wreck of the Zephyr, readers glimpse a wreck that occurred under very different circumstances - though this should come as no surprise to those used to this visionary artist's mystical work.

The narrator of the story is a traveler who meets up with a grizzled old gentleman puffing away on his pipe amidst the ruins of a sailboat. The strikingly odd thing about this is the fact that they are at the top of a cliff. Could the waves really have thrown the boat that high above sea level? That's the word around town, but this weathered resident has another explanation that calls for a tale. Consequently, he becomes the book's primary storyteller even though this is a first-person account by the visitor, whose name we never learn, who quickly fades into the realms of inconsequentiality. It's the old man who holds the intrigue; the younger is just as much an audience member as we are.

And so he spins his yarn, a simple but heart-rending story of pride and ambition reminiscent of the ancient cautionary tale of Icarus, the boy who flew too close to the sun. The boy in this story is a sailor, the best his village has ever known. On one particularly perilous journey, he finds himself washed up on a dreamlike island where boats sail the skies like the graceful whales in Fantasia 2000. Though the islander he meets advises him against trying an art that took years to learn, the boy begs for instruction so that he can command the winds as well as the waves. It's trickier than it looks, but he's certain he can master the skill and return home in such a glorious manner that no one in town will ever forget that he is the greatest sailor any of them will ever meet. Yet the words of warning linger in the air as he embarks upon his return journey...

Van Allsburg's illustrations are arresting, with expanses of soft grass rustled by the same breeze that nudges drowsy clouds along, with jaunty boats floating peacefully along as their sails billow, with a stern church tower cloaked in the Zephyr's shadow standing in contrast to the inky blue star-studded sky. There is magic in each painting, even those few depicting scenes that are perfectly ordinary. I'd never heard of this particular book before encountering it in the library, but in ranks in quality with Van Allsburg's more lauded achievements. Those intrigued by stories with a nautical or fantastical bent and illustrations that bring such tales to vivid life will want to examine it for themselves. The Zephyr may be a wreck, but this book certainly isn't.