Jethro Byrde, Fairy Child

At first glance the opening pages of Jethro Byrde … show what seems to be a pretty normal cityscape. But closer observation shows some anomalous things going on; these disruptions in normality alert the reader to what is to come in this wise, funny story where close reading and looking reveal literally home truths about urban living and human nature.

On turning the pages, the panoramic city view focuses close in on the backyard of an apartment block where Annabelle, her mum and dad and baby brother live. Every day Annabelle looks for fairies among the cement and weeds, and one day her faith is rewarded with the arrival of Jethro Byrde, a fairy ‘as big as her finger’, and his family.

The fairy group inhabits a parallel world, visible to Annabelle but not to her parents, who nevertheless are hospitable, proffering fairy cakes and camomile tea in fairy cups. The body language of Graham’s cartoon figures captures brilliantly Annabelle’s ‘ordinary’ family life and the possibility of something less ordinary. The fairy family Byrde is cast in the mould of 1970s bohemians (‘Jethro Byrde’ will resonate with those of a certain vintage). They are anxious to get to the Fairy Travellers’ Picnic with their rickety ice cream van, which Annabelle helps to repair.

The fairies’ flight to the Picnic over the city and across the night sky is shown in the closing pages, contrasting with Annabelle’s urban box home. Fairies represent freedom, but Jethro too has constrictions on his life: at the Picnic he will be hugged by aunts with damp handkerchiefs and made to run in races where he invariably comes last. In return for help and hospitality the fairies give a fairy watch to Annabelle, and the knowledge that fairies may indeed be found at the bottom of the garden, even amid the cement and weeds. A wonderful book.