MBGoffstein1940–2017) is a profoundly skilled yet quietly exceptional American picture book artist. She chooses to employ a radically simple approach to storytelling and illustration, maintaining her signature style for over fifty years. While some readers struggle to grasp and embrace her work, many others deeply love it and return to it again and again. A New York Times book reviewer once commented, “It’s wonderful to have a Goffstein! She discovers the true meaning of simplicity.”
Written in Goffstein30Among the many children’s books, most of which are picture books, the one that received the highest honor was “Fish for Dinner”, which won1977The Caldecott Medal in 2006. However, even on the American reading websitegoodreads.comSome readers were extremely confused by this, even giving it only one star. Some readers thought that this story about an old lady going fishing every day seemed too simple, and the text and pictures looked like they were cooked up by a child, with the pictures still looking like black and white stick figures. How could such a work win the Caldecott Medal?
Gofstein’s painting style is indeed somewhat “deceptive”. She has a certain tendency towards minimalism, deliberately simplifying things, removing what she considers to be unnecessary details, and selecting only the most necessary visual elements for clear expression, presenting them in a rather childish, simple and direct manner. Initially, she was more immersed in pure artistic creation. In her twenties, she held solo exhibitions in her hometown (St. Paul, Minnesota) and New York City. By chance, her exhibited works impressed a special visitor — Maurice Sendak! At that time, Sendak had already won the Caldecott Gold Medal and was at the peak of his career in the American picture book industry. Sendak urged Gofstein to create a picture book and introduced his editor friend Michael Di Capua to work with her, which led to Gofstein’s debut work.
The Gats! At1966The collaboration between Capua and Goffstein lasted for more than fifty years.
Without mentioning how Goffstein’s painting style impressed Sendak, let’s look back at the unique simplicity of “Fish for Dinner”. This story tells the complete life of this fishing grandmother, from five o’clock in the morning to five o’clock in the morning of the next day. We can imagine that anyone can move freely.24While childhood undoubtedly involved a wealth of details, and the protagonist, “Grandma,” undoubtedly had family, neighbors, and friends, Goffstein’s story is completely simplified to just her: wake up, breakfast, clean up, go fishing, return home, cook fish for dinner, clean up, go to bed… a routine as simple and concise as clockwork, repeating itself over and over again. However, she doesn’t completely omit every detail; there are obvious choices. For example, while fishing on the lake could have been briefly mentioned, she instead describes the shimmering waters and Grandma gazing out at her small boat dock, the windows of which resemble a pair of eyes, as if glaring back at her. We can understand this as a special feeling Grandma experiences while fishing, as if she were interacting with her home on the lake, as if the lake itself were an extension of her. The author’s selection of this passage, while still simple, brings a unique interest, reminiscent of Tao Yuanming’s poem, “Picking chrysanthemums under the eastern fence, leisurely gazing at the southern mountains,” perhaps leaving the reader fascinated by the leisurely state of fishing.
The illustrations that complement the story are also deceptively simple. The kitchen depicts nothing more than a grandmother’s open refrigerator. Breakfast is depicted with a table and a few essential items on the countertop. Cleaning up afterward reveals only a faucet and a sink nearby. It’s like a schematic diagram, its simplicity truly imaginative, like something a primary school student could have drawn. Perhaps the simplest is the aforementioned boathouse, which appears to be staring at Grandma with “a pair of black eyes.” Within the frame, a single line represents the water, and in the center is the silhouette of a small house. Yet, surprisingly, such a simple image can create a truly magical effect, so much so that the reader might even feel as if the small house on the water is watching them! However, if we are willing to look back more carefully, we will find that the illustrator did not simply keep it simple for the sake of simplicity. The story clues in her paintings are still very complete: the story begins on the title page, and the protagonist grandmother is initially wearing a nightgown and soft shoes; the small picture on the copyright page is a chair and glasses, clothes and shoes placed there; on the dedication page, the grandmother puts on glasses, changes into going-out shoes, and is putting on her coat (the coat is still on the chair); then on the first page of the text, the chair is empty, the grandmother puts on her coat, and prepares to go to breakfast — and these details in the paintings are not explained at all in the text!
Readers who have been fooled by Goffstein’s simplicity might consider rereading it a few times; perhaps they’ll appreciate the author’s ingenious choices. This work is indeed surprisingly simple, yet like a simple yet magical song, it compels you to repeat it over and over again. It’s not that the author is incapable of creating an effect of elaborate detail; she simply meticulously eliminates whatever she deems unnecessary clutter, leaving only the words she truly wants to convey. Because of this lack of clutter, even if you don’t understand it the first time, repeated listening will naturally bring understanding.
So, what exactly does Goffstein want to say in the story “Fish for Dinner”? I imagine that each reader’s life experiences and reading experience are different, and what they hear will inevitably be different. There is no standard answer to understanding a work of art. For me, I might hear the following keywords: life, work, experience, enjoyment, dignity, and the peaceful days… How should I put it? This story certainly tells the story of an elderly woman, but fishing for dinner can also be seen as a form of “work”—she earns dinner through labor. However, this grandmother’s “work” is actually a fascinating life experience. The process is not easy, but she enjoys it. Although getting up at 5 a.m. every day and the days seem rather monotonous, she never tires of it. Eating her own fish for dinner brings a sense of accomplishment, and being able to support herself so happily is a sense of dignity in itself. These days, repeated over and over again, are peaceful and beautiful!
Children who read this story do not necessarily have to hear these words. They may be able to read out some other interesting things, but such a story is likely to make a strong impression on them. As their life experience grows, they may develop many new insights of their own.
For Goffstein, the inspiration for this kind of storytelling likely stems from her childhood and family connections; the book is dedicated to the Goffstein family. Born in St. Paul, Minnesota, in the central United States, into a Jewish family, her father a diligent electrical engineer. She later recalled that her parents’ example instilled in her the strong belief that “work is the only true dignity, the only true happiness. If people don’t dedicate their lives to it, they are nothing.” Her chosen profession is art. The “work” Goffstein refers to can be interpreted broadly, encompassing her grandmother’s daily fishing spree and her own fascination with art.
Enjoying one’s work is a luxury, yet for a true artist, it seems essential. “Gordie the Dollmaker” captures this state of mind, and perhaps, to a large extent, it reflects a state Goffstein herself often experiences. This picture book is one of her early works. While also illustrated in black and white, the images are richer in detail, the story more complex, and, in terms of length, resembles a short story. It reads like a Jewish folk tale, and upon careful reflection, it is filled with wisdom.
Gotti inherited her parents’ craftsmanship as a wooden dollmaker, a trade she relied on entirely after their death. She works diligently and with dedication, and her doll business is far more successful than her parents’. However, she’s more concerned with making her dolls truly come alive, complete with her signature “friendliest, sweetest smile.” Perhaps Gotti herself doesn’t fully realize that her intense sense of responsibility, dedication, and obsession with her work have made her a true artist.
“Gordie the Dollmaker” vividly and meticulously depicts the artist’s work, life, and rich spiritual world. Gordie’s attitude toward her dolls bears a striking resemblance to Goffstein’s approach to the text and images in her own work. Her agent and friend explained that she often worked through the night to perfect a single detail. This state of immersion in creative work is essential and, in the eyes of others, highly enviable. Therefore, any reader who has ever attempted this kind of creative endeavor will likely be deeply moved by this story. For example, while translating this book, I repeatedly paused to marvel at the painstaking process of refining and relentlessly striving for perfection, yet the ultimate reward often brings the greatest satisfaction. While most readers and viewers may ultimately fail to appreciate the subtle nuances of this polish, the deep joy and peace that the creator experiences from knowing they’ve “got it right” is perhaps the most valuable reward.
“Gordie the Dollmaker” also delicately depicts another side of the artist’s spiritual world: loneliness, which can sometimes manifest as boundless solitude. While Gotdie finds joy and contentment in her creative process, she nonetheless navigates the world of daily life, shopping for groceries and gathering materials for her dolls. Of course, she also longs for interaction, such as with Ohms, the carpenter who crafts the crates for her dolls. As a fellow craftsman, Gotdie hoped the handsome and enthusiastic Ohms would become a kindred spirit, but he failed to understand art and its value. Upon seeing Gotdie spend a fortune on a beautiful but impractical Chinese lamp, Ohms couldn’t help but tease her, calling her a “real artist” who was simply insane!
When boundless loneliness nearly overwhelmed Gotti, the Chinese lantern proved miraculous—in a dream, she encountered the lamp’s maker, a distant artist she had never met. No longer feeling lonely, Gotti grasped the true meaning of artistic creation: creation is indeed for communication, but it’s not for just anyone; it’s for friends. These friends can be those close by, those far away and unknown, or even friends who transcend time and space, for the future. Such friends are what we often call “soulmates.” Art exists for soulmates.
“Gordie the Dollmaker” is such a heartwarming, intelligent, and engaging story. Goffstein tells his own experience and understanding of art through the story of the doll artist Gotti, which is particularly intriguing to read.
In fact, the 1960s and 1970s, when Goffstein began creating picture books, were a very bustling era in the United States. In such times, works that seemed loud and easily consumed would have a better chance of gaining a foothold in the market. However, Goffstein chose a very minimalist approach, telling stories so quietly that readers could easily miss her books. However, as a reviewer in Kirkus Reviews noted, “The more you get to know Goffstein, the more you appreciate her.” The more you get to know Goffstein, the more you appreciate her.
The little pieces of wood that Gotti painstakingly carved were more than just dolls. The picture books that Goffstein painstakingly polished are also more than simple gadgets. Their richness lies in their simplicity, their depth in their ordinariness. Of course, they also look forward to readers who can be called “soulmates.”
Ajia …
Written on2019Year8moon30day
