Satomi Ichikawa, author and illustrator,
My Pig Amarillo.
Philomel, 2003.

Satomi Ichikawa accomplishes a great deal in one slim picture book. She conveys the excitement of befriending a new pet, the panic and grief we feel when a pet goes missing, and the ways in which a child comes to terms with grief. Along the way she opens readers' eyes to the fascinating particulars of another culture. That she manages all of this with grace and a light touch is testament to her skills as both a writer and an illustrator.

Set in Guatemala, My Pig Amarillo begins as Pablito's grandpa gives him a baby pig named Amarillo (which means “yellow” in Spanish). The first-person, present-tense narrative lends immediacy to the story, drawing readers in from the first page, where, receiving his new pet, Pablito declares, “I am so excited, I do not know what to say.”

A delightful series of watercolor portraits depicting boy with pig follows, letting us in on the comic as well as tenderhearted aspects of pig rearing. Whether Pablito is holding Amarillo in his arms as they both snooze or the two of them are cavorting in a glorious mud puddle frolic, with dirty water splashing merrily from one page to another, their mutual happiness is obvious. “He is my best friend, just like I told him,” says the smitten boy.

The warmth gives way to panic as Pablito runs from Amarillo's empty hut to his mother's weaving room to his father's bus in search of his suddenly lost friend. Loud red stripes on a length of cloth and across the side of the bus sound a visual alarm as busy patterns compound the confusion. A gray wash begins to descend on pages showing a somber family meal, and it deepens to a melancholy darkness on the next spread: Pablito weeps into his pillow; the curved folds of his sheets seem to lap near his feet like cold waves. One small candle lights the lonely scene.

Pablito's grandpa helps him through his grief: “Grandpa says if we can't find Amarillo, he could have had an accident and may have died. These things happen, Grandpa says.” Together they prepare for All Saints' Day, when people gather at the cemetery to fly kites as messages to dead loved ones.

As colorful kite tails swirl across the blue-green mountain landscape, a quiet joy returns to the story. Pablito's kite disappears into what becomes an enormous smiling pig-shaped cloud: “Suddenly, I don't feel sad. I have found my Amarillo.” Ichikawa introduces readers to a Guatemalan tradition that celebrates the meaningful connection between the living and the dead — surprisingly, she leads us there with a boy and his pig.

Christine Alfano
Spring 2003