I Saw a Beautiful Woodpecker

When eight-year-old Michal is given a holiday task to improve his handwriting, he writes his daily sentences with care. But Michal lives in Warsaw, and it’s the summer of 1939. By the time autumn comes, there are planes flying over his house, and his observations about football games and caterpillars have been replaced by comments of a different kind.

‘There’s going to be a terrible fight’, he says, on September 10th. And although ‘Warsaw is defending itself bravely,’ we know that war has been declared, and Michal’s life will never be the same again.

Michal’s journal had become a witness to history in the making, and although he stopped writing it on September 15th, he kept it safe for more than eighty years. Now it has been published as a chunky, notebook-sized hardback, and is finding a new audience. Illustrated in full colour throughout with atmospheric paintings by Polish artist, photographer and film animator Helena Stiasny (working under the pseudonym of Ala Bankroft), the book also includes photographs of Michal’s original handwritten text.

Stiasny’s artwork – superficially inviting, yet imbued with an increasing sense of dislocation and foreboding – provides imagery for Michal’s headline text in a way that adds significantly to its impact.  As time passes, sun-dappled landscapes and paintings of wildlife give way to darker, more brooding spreads. At no point does any character appear, allowing readers to enter Michal’s world and place themselves centre-stage, while creating a sense of unease that is amplified by the choice of subject on each spread. Paths lead into bushes, benches wait for occupants and simple observations are accompanied by pictures that can be read in many ways. Train tracks converge in the distance as clouds gather, a sunny game of football in the park is bordered by prison-style railings, and doors and windows hint at things unseen. But the visual references are subtle: this is the journal of an eight-year-old, and the tragedies that will unfold are suggested, not shown.

There is no title page. Instead, four sentences set the scene for Michal’s holiday task. A little more biographical and historical information is provided on the final page – Michal’s father was a pilot who lost his life six days before Michal’s final diary entry, on the day for which he wrote “planes keep flying overhead” – so the book does provide some context for the text and artwork, but younger children will benefit from adult help.

The simplicity of Michal’s text will strike a chord with readers everywhere, and Stiasny’s stunning illustrations add depth and impact. Read this book alongside fictional stories about the war and use the experience to inspire factual research. Or let it unfold like a poem or half-remembered dream, and respond to it with creative activities of all kinds.