Caldecott Critique: 102 by Matthew Cordell
Fever dreams, ballpoint pens, and Swedish cinema
I will now present this book as if I was a member of the 2027 Caldecott committee . . .
Click here for the official Caldecott Medal Terms and Criteria
I apologize for calling this meeting so early in the year, fellow Caldecott Committee members. But the book I’m about to present is emergency-meeting-level good.
If anyone objects, let your feelings be known.
What? Who even IS that guy? We have to make time.
Because 102, written and illustrated by Caldecott Medal winner Matthew Cordell, is clearly one of the most distinguished picture books of the year.
Quick aside. I’m currently at 71% (or somewhere around there) completion on the 100 Scope Notes Ultimate Caldecott Database - soon to be the best Caldecott resource on the internet. I’m opening up access to all paid subscribers later this month. More info coming soon.
Let’s begin . . .
In a publishing world where everyone is trying to make the most “effective” cover, very few succeed in the way this one does. Look at the front and back.
The delineation of plot, setting, character, and mood has already begun and we haven’t even opened the book.
The main character (George) is looking through a 102-shaped hole in the wall to see a mouse and cricket, alluding to the boy’s nighttime journey in the story, when he will follow the cricket into the wall and beyond.
The back does one of my favorite cover moves - it shows the “other side” of the front image. Now we are in George’s shoes, seeing what he sees. The blurb in the zero invites the reader in:
The cricket hopped toward the wall, then disappeared into a large crack. And I followed.
And when we do open the front cover, there’s a surprise.
Cordell presents 51 different real and imagined bean types on the front endpapers (I bet you can guess how many are on the back endpapers: 51+?=102). This is another beautiful touch of bringing readers into the story. The cover showed us the characters, while the endpapers are introducing an object important to the story. We have been alerted: beans play an important role, and now we’re on the lookout for them.
When the cover and endpapers are this well-considered, it’s a sign that we might be dealing with a distinguished book.
102 has a cinematic feel (some might say Wiesner-esque) - a tone set here with the bold hand-lettered title and glimpses of the three major characters. Notice the black frame around each image, as Cordell will play with breaking these frames for specific reasons throughout the story.
Speaking of well-considered, take a look at the dang copyright page, will you? Sorry for the D bomb, fellow committee members. The type perfectly set in the middle of a rising sun. On the right side, we see the the day beginning on 102 Greenbriar Drive - clear and effective delineation of setting.
Note the border around the house - string lights. This is a motif that runs throughout the book (for reasons we will learn later), marking each 102-themed “act” of the book.
The string light motif continues, wrapped around the drop cap letter I.
Remember how I was talking about the black borders? Here the story is set in motion by a mouse breaking the bottom right border to escape and essentially scurrying into the rest of the story - generating our first page turn momentum.
The perspective here is interesting. Since the mouse is in the foreground, he’s rendered approximately life size, so the reader is seeing the same-sized mouse that the characters are, making it a much more dramatic image.
What’s he holding? A bean? Endpaper callback.
Cordell modeled the family in this story on his own. Not part of the criteria, but another detail that adds richness.
The mouse is caught, order is restored, so the black border around the image on the left is fully intact. In the background are homages to Cordell’s influences (Lobel’s FROG & TOAD), and references to the number 102 continue with a test graded 102%. On the right side, another string-light surrounded image marking a new story act.
Note the honey bear, cup, saucer, and owl-branded tea bag tab - those will all be referenced later.
On the left is one of my favorite images from the book and one that really shows “Excellence of execution in the artistic technique employed”. George looks into the tank where he’s placed the mouse, and the two are nose to nose through glass, the glare beautifully rendered.
I mentioned the cinematic feel of this book, and that’s coming through very strong on this page, reminiscent of this iconic scene in Ingmar Bergman’s classic film PERSONA:
*crickets*
Okay committee members. I’m taking your total silence as a sign that I just took things too far. Noted. I’ll keep the Swedish cinema references in check from here on out.
Now’s a good time to mention that Cordell illustrated this book with “multicolored, multiscented ballpoint pens on paper.” Which the back flap tells us he “found while rummaging through his kids’ art supplies.” You know the type:
Aside from the aforementioned excellence of execution in the artistic technique employed, the crosshatched layers of color in this book masterfully hit three more elements of the criteria:
The artwork is individually distinct. I defy you, fellow committee members, to find another book that looks like this.
I contend this is a perfect example of “Excellence of presentation in recognition of a child audience”, since he used materials so familiar to kids in making this book.
Appropriateness of style of illustration to the story, theme or concept. The layers of color add to the magical, surreal quality of the story. The artwork is skilled, nuanced, and beautiful.
I’m going to move through the next three spreads quickly . . .
The decision to make the end of the act a black page (which, due to the multicolored crosshatching style, likely took a long time) makes the composition on the right side stands out even more. It introduces a new character, positioned atop the clock reading 102.
Take a close look at the walls of George’s bedroom in this next spread:
An owl, Totoro, and a ship. Similar to the mouse earlier, the cricket is breaking the mini vignette frame to the right, continuing forward momentum.
How do you illustrate someone shrinking? A nice example of “pictorial interpretation of story” on the left, as George joins the cricket on a journey he doesn’t fully understand yet.
Okay, it’s time for a dramatic reveal.
We've waited this long for the first two-page, full-bleed spread. We’re entering a new world and it’s time for some serious delineation of setting. We get the full panorama.
Side note: Best robe-wearing protagonist since POLAR EXPRESS. Or at the very least HOME ALONE.
And - aha - the scene is lit with string lights - the same lights that have framed the act marker pages.
This next spread does something subtle, but I don’t want you to miss it.
Are you noticing it? Three different panels, and George is breaking the frame in each one - left, top, right. This is a tiny world full of scary things and George is backing away. Contrast this spread with the one later when he returns to this same location.
In surrounding each image with a black frame, it’s like this book wants to be a little formal - but the story is just too weird so it keeps busting out. This is prime delineation of mood and an important visual juxtaposition in 102.
Jumping ahead a bit for this next spread.
More frame-breaking. Blades of grass so imposing they burst out of the top and sides of the images. Best giant blades of grass since HONEY, I SHRUNK THE KIDS. On the right, the positioning of the moth, and George facing back to the left is a signal that the characters are staying here for a while. The balance of the image implying safety.
But they aren’t safe.
Boom. The second two-page full-bleed spread, used perfectly to capture this moment of danger.
Remember the owl poster on George’s wall earlier? As this story goes along, we begin to see elements from George’s life pop up in this surreal journey. Is George dreaming?
(Side note, committee members: Are you annoyed, as I am, about how everyone’s throwing around the phrase “fever dream” these days? Any time anything is a little odd it’s suddenly a fever dream. It steals the thunder from (potential) REAL FEVER DREAMS like this one. Side note over.)
George is back facing right - the comfy tea party is over and the journey continues.
Some excellent delineation of setting going on here. On the left, another genius frame-break. The tree bleeds right off the top of the page on the left. On the right, steam welcomes us into this framed image (notice the lighting situation).
And note the tea set and honey bear on the table, mirroring George’s house. More evidence that this is a dream?
Jumping ahead a bit on the next spread.
On Junior’s wall: Totoro and a ship, just like George’s room earlier. All of these reoccurring elements and motifs are telling a story that isn’t in the text.
Mama mouse makes a plea to George, and he heads homeward.
While the journey away from home was an exploration, the journey back is more familiar, so the pace has quickened. No need for the full two-page spread. George grabs a coin that will be important later.
Wide panels on the left show George interacting with the formerly scary insects - adding to the delineation of character and theme.
George makes it back, returns to full size (with the help of the cricket), and releases the father mouse. All fades to black, and when George wakes up, it’s 1:02 p.m.
Even if we didn’t see the clock, we would know it’s the middle of the day from the luminous artwork.
Next up is maybe my favorite image from the book.
George looking out at the tree he visited the night before, putting his hand into his pocket. He is centered in this window - a frame inside the black frame. We are seeing the world from George’s perspective. Asking the same question he’s asking: Was it all real?
The right side image also (we assume) shows George looking - at the fire (note the owl-shaped bookends on the mantle). Corresponding images decades apart.
The illustration on the right brings to mind . . .
. . . the imagery at end of Stanley Kubrick’s 2000: A SPACE ODYSSEY. Look - I didn’t say I’d keep all cinema references in check, fellow committee members - only Swedish.
The slow reveal here is just great pacing, a skill that I put in the “Excellence of pictorial interpretation of story” category.
George is now 102 years old, holding up the coin he picked up in the wall, with a mouse friend on his shoulder. Same honey bear. Same tea set. Same owl-branded tea bag. Maybe this wasn’t a fever dream after all.
Cinematic, hypnotic, surreal, Wiesner-esque, visually distinct, distinguished. Fellow committee members, you just don’t see many picture books like this.
PSST! I have some off-the-record thoughts - things that aren’t in the Caldecott criteria (and that I DEFINITELY wouldn’t say when presenting the book to the committee), but things that will likely be floating around in the committee members’ subconscious that could determine if this book wins a Caldecott. I’m sharing them with paid subscribers below.
Will the 2027 Caldecott committee discuss the things I’m about to mention? No. Would someone get completely ostracized in the room if they even brought them up? Yes! But nevertheless I believe they play a role.