Sometimes, a book can really catch you off guard. Sometimes, a little story you thought would be a light, silly, throwaway read ends up packing a devastating emotional punch that forces you to sit in silence for a long while after. This is what happened to me with Morris Gletizman’s Boy Overboard. The cover, a dated mish-mash of early 2000s clip-art that resembled a product more likely from Fisher Price than Penguin Publishing, did not exactly prepare me for the turmoil that lay inside the pages. Yes, I know. This is a very literal case of me judging a book by its cover. And I’ve learned my lesson. Because this goofy, garish little book with a toy box ‘Ages 9+’ sticker on it very nearly broke my heart in two.
Boy Overboard is about a family from Afghanistan who, after the government discovers the illegal school that have been running in secret, must flee the country and undergo the dangerous, life-threatening voyage to Australia. The story is told from the perspective of Jamal, the older son and a football fanatic. With a blissful naivety to the world raging around him, his dream is for him and his sister Bibi to become professional footballers and win the World Cup for Afghanistan, who currently do not have an international team. But their journey is festering with obstacles, such as landmines, refugee camps, separation from their parents, storms in the middle of the ocean, all of which they take in their stride with a child’s unquestioning hope in their hearts.
Writing in Jamal’s voice, Gleitzman occasionally uses turns of phrase that are a bit too on the nose and borderline insensitive – ‘then it hit me like a drone strike’ etc. – but perhaps we should remember that 9+ sticker and the fact that these huge, disturbing fallouts of war have to be conveyed simply to the child reader. For the most part, it is Gleitzman’s prioritising of the child reader that makes the reading experience so heartbreaking for the adult reader. The narrative voice and its execution, its innocence and its endless positivity in the face of such horrible circumstances, makes the events of the book all the more upsetting and powerful. Each tiny chapter and each of Jamal’s little dreams remind us that no child should have to go through such hardship. No child should have to be this brave.
Quite simply, it’s an expertly crafted children’s book. It’s short and rampant enough that an adult reader could rip through it in an afternoon and feel the full rollercoaster of emotions it takes us on. But it’s focused and simplified enough to capture the mind of the child reader. Almost every sentence cuts to a deep emotional core while still masquerading as a light and cute adventure story. In this sense, it opens a door for children to learn about the experiences of other children who are essentially just like them, just born in more troubling circumstances. And it does this in a way that doesn’t feel preachy or guilt-tripping, but in a way that says, sensitively: yes, terrible things happen every day, but if you can learn to move the empathy you feel for Jamal and Bibi into the real world, then we’re a step closer to a better world.
Writing in Jamal’s voice, Gleitzman occasionally uses turns of phrase that are a bit too on the nose and borderline insensitive – ‘then it hit me like a drone strike’ etc. – but perhaps we should remember that 9+ sticker and the fact that these huge, disturbing fallouts of war have to be conveyed simply to the child reader. For the most part, it is Gleitzman’s prioritising of the child reader that makes the reading experience so heartbreaking for the adult reader. The narrative voice and its execution, its innocence and its endless positivity in the face of such horrible circumstances, makes the events of the book all the more upsetting and powerful. Each tiny chapter and each of Jamal’s little dreams remind us that no child should have to go through such hardship. No child should have to be this brave.
Quite simply, it’s an expertly crafted children’s book. It’s short and rampant enough that an adult reader could rip through it in an afternoon and feel the full rollercoaster of emotions it takes us on. But it’s focused and simplified enough to capture the mind of the child reader. Almost every sentence cuts to a deep emotional core while still masquerading as a light and cute adventure story. In this sense, it opens a door for children to learn about the experiences of other children who are essentially just like them, just born in more troubling circumstances. And it does this in a way that doesn’t feel preachy or guilt-tripping, but in a way that says, sensitively: yes, terrible things happen every day, but if you can learn to move the empathy you feel for Jamal and Bibi into the real world, then we’re a step closer to a better world.
review written by Alex George
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