• Posted on August 25, 2019

Nobody Hugs a Cactus

Many years ago, a former boss gave everyone on her team a cactus just before the Christmas break. It was an unusually pointy gift, and my suspicion about its inherent symbolism was confirmed a year later, when we all received knock-off Swiss army knives. Stay away – I am prickly. The fact that we already knew this about her was not the point, no pun intended. For some reason, she wanted to give us tiny versions of herself. We got the message, and we obliged.

In Nobody Hugs a Cactus by Carter Goodrich, the main character – Hank, the aforementioned succulent, is indeed, very prickly, and boy oh boy he does not want anyone or anything to come near. He is content to sit in his window perch, alone, staring out into the “hot, dry, peaceful and quiet” desert landscape.  

Hank watches suspiciously as a parade of well-meaning critters of the animal, reptile, human and tumbleweed variety pass by, all of whom try to woo Hank out of his self-imposed isolation. They are rebuffed, one by one.  

It’s a cowboy, striding in on hilariously long legs, who first suggests to Hank that he might need a hug, but then adds, “Too bad nobody hugs a cactus.”

One gets the impression that Hank may not know what a hug is, but whatever it is, he doesn’t want it, and so he doubles down on his next insult to a skittering lizard. “Just in case you’re wondering, I don’t want a hug.” The lizard is only too happy to comply. “That’s good, because I don’t want to give you one.” The tables have now turned, and it’s the visitors who reject Hank. A little hurt by the lizard’s remark, he begrudgingly offers to hug an owl, who abruptly turns him down.

For the first time, Hank feels lonely.  

We don’t always know what we need, or we do and we fear asking for it. In choosing a cactus with all its barbs and pointy spines to convey vulnerability, Goodrich is suggesting that underneath even the strongest, most impenetrable armour, there is always something soft. Something that needs attention. Lucky for Hank, in a moment of distress – amusing to the reader but not so much for Hank – he is rescued, literally and figuratively, by Rosie, a cheerful tumbleweed.

The way he thanks his new friend, by growing a flower for her, is the reason I bought this book. This illustration is so hopeful, so beautiful, so full of heart. The posture of his arm, outstretched, with “the best flower he could grow” is Goodrich at his best. He is able to convey feeling without being cloying or manipulative. His illustrations often make me laugh – and one with a jackrabbit made me laugh out loud in the bookstore – but they also make me love. Deeply. When he unveils this flower, I love Hank. And readers will love Hank. He is trying, very, very hard to make a connection. In opening up to kindness, Hank himself becomes kind.

This is not the end of the story, but suffice to say, Hank is a changed cactus.

In Nobody Hugs a Cactus, Goodrich paints the desert background in golden watercolour washes, the details diffuse, focusing instead on the wild array of characters who populate the otherwise sparse landscape. Expression, posture, emotion – this is Goodrich territory. With a deft hand and an empathetic heart, he imbues his characters, even a small, ornery cactus, with such lovableness, it is impossible not to care. This succulent may be prickly, but as Goodrich knows, it’s all surface. Bring it in, Hank.

I have long been a fan of Carter Goodrich. My entry drug was his beautiful and often politically barbed covers for the New Yorker, but it’s his trilogy of books featuring two dogs, Mister Bud and Zorro, that made me fall in love with this two-time Society of Illustrators gold medal winning illustrator. No surprise, Goodrich is also a character designer for such films as Brave, Despicable Me and Ratatouille, for which won the International Animated Film Society’s Annie Award for character design.

Nobody Hugs a Cactus by Carter Goodrich. Published by Simon & Schuster, 2019.

Check out Carter Goodrich’s website here.

Read my review of Mister Bud Wears the Cone

Read my review of Zorro Gets an Outfit

Read my review of Say Hello to Zorro!

  • Posted on June 18, 2014

Mister Bud Wears the Cone

Some books radiate charm. Often, it’s not any one factor, but a seamless blend of clever writing, exquisite illustration, and a third, more elusive ingredient – a goodness, for lack of a better word, superseding all. This is Carter Goodrich territory. With the release of Mister Bud Wears the Cone, the third book in his dog-centric series, I can state unequivocally (and with a great deal of affection), the man knows how to charm.

Mister Bud Wears the Cone further examines the sometimes fractious relationship between two dogs: Mister Bud, a generously snouted, routine-loving mutt, and Zorro, a tiny, goatee’d pug. In the first book of the series, Say Hello to Zorro, Mister Bud is introduced to Zorro, his new ‘sibling’, and is none too pleased to share his comfortable, predictable life with the eager young pup. In the second book, Zorro Gets an Outfit, it is the pug who is faced with an untenable situation, in this case an embarrassing piece of clothing, and like Mister Bud, his path toward resolution is both funny and sweet. In Mister Bud Wears the Cone, the bone is once again tossed to Mister Bud, who in this outing must deal with that most intrusive of protective pet care devices – the dreaded cone of shame.

Mister Bud Wears the Cone blue

As the story opens, Mister Bud has developed a hot spot on his flank, which he can’t stop bothering. His mother (who like all humans in this series is never fully depicted), comforts Mister Bud with ointment and hugs, which infuriates Zorro. Not only is he grabbing all the attention, his ailment is delaying their shared schedule of ‘biscuit then a walk time.’ It gets worse. Mister Bud must wear the cone. Mister Bud hates the cone. For awhile, he has an ally in Zorro, Mister Bud Wears the Cone cone onwho tries to help Mister Bud remove it, but when all attempts fail, Zorro loses interest. Like all similarly afflicted dogs, Mister Bud is a half-blind, stumbling disaster with the cumbersome cone. Like all siblings, Zorro can’t help teasing Mister Bud, laughing at his clumsiness while helping himself to the biscuits. When Zorro takes his favourite toy, Mister Bud runs after the pug and the cone knocks over a lamp, breaking it. Never let it be said dogs aren’t capable of schadenfreude. While Mister Bud cowers under a chair, consumed with guilt, Zorro eagerly awaits the inevitable parental reprimand. But…as anyone who has ever been around an animal wearing a cone knows, it is impossible to feel anything but sympathy, and in Mister Bud Wears the Cone, generosity of the heart, and of the treat, is a given.

The continuing adventures of Mister Bud and Zorro are meant to be funny and entertaining, and they most certainly are, but as an illustrator and dog lover, what I find particularly interesting is how Goodrich imbues his pooches with pure canine authenticity. They are the very personification of the complex emotional lives of dogs. This is no small feat. Goodrich is a master of comic characterization, and from schnozz to tiny paws, these dogs are hilarious. Their wildly expressive and beautifully exaggerated features might exclude them from the Westminster Dog Show, but Goodrich never loses Mister Bud Wears the Cone annoys Zorrosight of their essential dogness. It’s in their physicality – in the way they hold their bodies, the perkiness of their ears, how they lean in, how they nap – it’s all dog, and because of this, these tells, they radiate emotion. It’s easy to love these guys – to feel for them, to laugh at their predicaments, to sympathize not only with Mister Bud’s frustrations, but also Zorro’s. Anyone who has ever had a sibling, or is the parent of siblings, will recognize the rivalries, but also the companionship that forgives all. Anyone who has ever had a dog will see their own mutt in these comical canines, cone or no cone. And even if none of the above applies, Mister Bud Wears the Cone is just a darn good story, with heart-thumping emotion, loveable characters, and spectacular art.

Mister Bud Wears the Cone mom

My favourite doggy in the world underwent surgery several weeks ago for the removal of five lumps (all benign, thankfully.) When Maggie was released the day after surgery, she had two large shaved patches on both sides of her torso, another two on her neck, and multiple stitches. Doped up and disoriented, she emerged out of the back of the vet’s office wearing a comically large cone and a woeful, accusatory expression. In short, she looked miserable, very much like Mister Bud. The cone didn’t last beyond the car, the patient didn’t bother with her wounds (much), and once the daily schedule of biscuit-then-nap-time resumed, she relaxed. Like Mister Bud and Zorro, it’s all about the routine. And the snacks.

Mister Bud Wears the Cone coverI am a long-time fan of Carter Goodrich, having been an illustration junkie for many years. Particular favourites are his numerous New Yorker covers, and his character designs for Despicable Me, Ratatouille, The Croods, and Finding Nemo, among others. A Rhode Island School of Design graduate, Mr Goodrich has illustrated a number of children’s picture books, including A Creature Was Stirring, The Hermit Crab, and the aforementioned Say Hello to Zorro and Zorro Gets an Outfit. Fingers (and paws) crossed, Mister Bud Wears the Cone will not be the last in this brilliant, and beautifully imagined series.

MISTER BUD WEARS THE CONE by Carter Goodrich. Simon and Schuster, 2014

Previously reviewed (click on the title):

Zorro Gets and Outfit by Carter Goodrich. Published by Simon & Schuster, 2012

Say Hello to Zorro by Carter Goodrich. Published by Simon & Schuster, 2011

– See more at: http://32pages.ca/2012/06/17/zorro-gets-an-outfit/#sthash.XDdNpc7c.dpuf

Zorro Gets and Outfit by Carter Goodrich. Published by Simon & Schuster, 2012

Say Hello to Zorro by Carter Goodrich. Published by Simon & Schuster, 2011

– See more at: http://32pages.ca/2012/06/17/zorro-gets-an-outfit/#sthash.XDdNpc7c.dpuf

ZORRO GETS AN OUTFIT by Carter Goodrich. Simon and Schuster, 2012

SAY HELLO TO ZORRO! by Carter Goodrich. Simon and Schuster, 2011

Zorro Gets an OutfitSay Hello to Zorro!

 

 

  • Posted on June 17, 2012

Zorro Gets An Outfit

I  am currently living with a cat and a dog. I love my cat, but it’s hard to read her emotions. Her expression rarely changes, even as the claws come out. She’s an action cat. Not much of a feeler. The dog, on the other hand, registers every emotion from joy to deep existential pain. It’s true that most of her emotional life revolves around food, and the procurement thereof, but whatever she’s feeling, we know it, from the direction and flaccidity of her ears, to the raised eyebrows, ear-cracking barks, and most especially, the world-weary sigh of a wish unfufilled. As my nieces would say, she’s an EMO. All dogs are EMO, including Zorro, star of the new book by Carter Goodrich, Zorro Gets an Outfit.

In the first book of the series, Say Hello to Zorro, it was Mister Bud who suffers an indignity when a rambunctious pug named Zorro enters his life, wreaking havoc on his meticulously scheduled existence. In Zorro Gets an Outfit, the tables are reversed, and it is the pug who must learn to adapt. Of course, when your name is Zorro, it is inevitable that you will, at some point, sport a cape…

Read More