TÃo MÃo
Katherine Curcio
language
(, Oct. 22, 2018)
TÃo MÃo opens with a daughter innocently asking her mother about a man in a photo. Through vivid stories the mother is able to reveal the uniqueness of the daughter’s uncle. The book is a monument to him for her crafted by her mother. As a reader you fall in love with him only to uncover that you and she will only know him through these very stories and will never have the fortune of being in his presence. It is with stories like these, of a person who has since passed, that readers will benefit from a new understanding of how to begin conversations with young ones and old ones alike about those who have died. The author bravely embraces her grief and opens her heart to illustrate that we can all unearth joy while in the belly of despair. For readers encapsulated by the rawness of mourning, open TÃo MÃo as an affirmation that our loved ones live on. The genius lies in the books lack of illustration, as it is meant to inspire the reader and listener a like to create their own images, simply in their mind, or by speaking them into existence with words, or drawing them out on the blank pages provided. This liberty allows a child the opportunity to express their own emotions rather than be imposed upon by familial, cultural, or social norms. An additional bonus, is that the author uses original language providing translations at the end, enabling the reader to learn Spanish and Scottish words and expressions. For example, even though it's English translation is simple, the title itself, TÃo MÃo, is left in the mother's native language.