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The book The King and the Sea consists of 21 short stories, each telling of a different encounter with the king, for example: the cat, the bee, the rain, the spirit, the clouds, or tiredness. Most of the time the king begins by acting like a king, commanding his interlocutor do something or other: that the rain stop, the clouds stay put over his kingdom. But of course the clouds move on, and the rain doesn’t stop. The king comes to realize that he doesn’t have power over everything. The world is diverse and has its own rules. That is the essence of the book. It is never explicitly presented as a moral, but rather glimmers through the few lines of text and sparse illustrations. The texts are poetic and short and place the dialogues between the King and his counterparts at the center. The collage-like illustrations are also limited to the bare essentials. They invest the king with very human traits so that, at times, the reader can identify with the power hungry king. An extraordinarily beautiful children’s book that allows plenty of room for one’s own thoughts to emerge.
Every king has a kingdom where his subjects live and his every command is obeyed. At least that’s how it normally goes. This idea is turned upside down in The King and the Sea, but in a subtle way. In fact, in many conversations, the king is confronted with the question of whether he doesn’t take his role all too seriously. For example, when he meets the cat and asks her what she is doing, she says, "“I’m letting the sun warm my fur,” the King asks further: “’Is the sun the greatest thing in the world for you today, then?’ ‘Yes, today it is,’” says the cat. “Today the sun is my king!’”
Each of the 21 meetings fills a double-page in the slim book. And each contains a complete episode with its own title: "The King and the Sea," "The King and the Spirit" or "The King and the Night". Simplicity and repetition are hallmarks of the book. Wolf Erlbruch’s illustrations also adhere to this style. The background of each double page is white. Here the king and his interlocutors stand face to face with each other- the sea, the bee, the cat, and the night. The simplicity of design draws our focus to the two characters in space. The king, a collage figure made of brown cardboard, is small. He wears a long coat and a large crown on his head. His face is expressive and likeable.
The texts are short, often only a few lines. Janisch avoids subordinate clauses and employs a clear, precise style throughout. The text passages primarily show the verbal exchanges between the King and his respective partners, all of which are similarly structured in each of the encounters. Most often, the king opens the conversation with a question or a request. He orders the rain to stop, for example, because the water will rust his crown. The rain’s response makes the King pensive: "“Your crown will rust, and so will you…Even if I stop.” In every episode, the little ruler is thrown into a situation where he is powerless and this contradicts his role as king. He is confronted by the fact that other laws exist apart from his own, and that he is subject to them as well. For example, he resolutely fights his tiredness: “You needn’t think you’re in charge here, [...] I'm the king, and I decide when I feel tired." But of course, at some point, his eyes close.
The idea of the king as sovereign of his kingdom is deliberately dismantled here. It is rather the "empire" in its various components who speak to the king. They explain to him that they each have a task, or a will of their own. The rain rains, the cat basks in the sun, and the shade reminds us that everything has two sides. The king cannot and should not have any influence over this. His power has limits; he cannot make decisions for others.
The king slowly realizes it is a good thing that each person has his/her own will and sphere of influence. He is a pensive, quiet, almost melancholy figure. With his eyes closed and his hands in his coat pockets, he stands on the beach and says to the sea at the beginning of the book, "I am the king". "The sea roared an answer…’I know,’ said the King. He turned quiet and thoughtful. ‘I know', he murmured. Then he listened to the roaring of the sea for a long time.” He is willing to listen to his interlocutors and take their messages seriously. Again and again, albeit reluctantly, he defers to the new rules being imposed. "I am the king!", said the king to the trumpet: play for me!" But the trumpet is silent. "I suppose you don’t want to play on your own,’ he said. The king thought for a moment. ‘Have it your own way,’ he said, taking a deep breath."
The book is impressive for its ability to handle big questions in such a small form. Janisch’s texts are so clear as to be poetic; they hit the nail on the head without leaving the sound of a hammer. Never is a message intrusive. The same goes for the illustrations which are finely tuned to the text, creating a distinctively melancholy, beautiful mood. The book invites us both to talk about it and to dream so that both young and adult readers will fall under its spell.
Eva Kaufmann
[Translated by Zaia Alexander]
December 2009
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