Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

“The fox is one of the only wild creatures in the world that can
successfully make a life for itself in cities.”

 

I recently heard two friends and colleagues — Betsy Bird and Susannah Richards — sing the praises of this Autralian import, originally published in 2008 and on American shelves this year (October). Then I unexpectedly received a review copy and understood precisely what they meant. Tohby Riddle’s Nobody Owns the Moon (Berbay Publishing) is nothing short of spectacular.

“The fox,” the story opens, “is one of the only wild creatures in the world that can successfully make a life for itself in cities.” Altogether subverting what we expect to see here, this opening spread shows an anthropomophized fox, relaxing in his tiny, one-room apartment in a big, busy city (pictured above) that is mostly filled with humans. We learn his name is Clive Prendergast. This is merely the name he gave himself, mind you, because only other foxes can pronounce his real name. We spend several spreads watching Clive work his way through this bustling city, and we even see him at work (pictured below). His is a monotonous factory job, and Riddle depicts Clive and two other workers at an assembly line:

He doesn’t know what is made there; he just puts the same two parts together — over and over.

Midway through the story, we meet one of Clive’s friends — a donkey named Humphrey. He is, we read, “one of those creatures that live in cities with less success than foxes.” Humphrey has seen better days and is currently homeless, or as Riddle puts it, “doesn’t always have a fixed address.” Clive enjoys Humphrey’s company and often goes looking for him. On this particular day, Clive spots in Humphrey’s bag something that his friend had found in the gutter. Clive looks closely at it: It’s an invitation to the premiere of a play, written by one of the city’s beloved playwrights, called Nobody Owns the Moon.

The two friends decide to attend. Before the show, they enjoy hors d’oeuvres in the theatre’s foyer. During the show, they sit in dress circle seats. They enjoy the show immensely, and Humphrey is even moved to tears. After the show, they get a beverage of their choice and a huge cake slice in the theatre’s restaurant. Humphrey is moved to tears again. You will note throughout the text here that — with the use of some delicious adjectives (glittering, luxurious, elegant) — Riddle emphasizes that this isn’t the type of thing Humphrey is used to seeing. You will also note that Humprhey isn’t just moved to tears each time. He weeps.

I’ll leave the final spread and final illustration for you to discover; I don’t want to spoil it. But let’s just say that Riddle spins a graceful, subtle, and very moving point here about belonging and, to steal a word from Shaun Tan (whose blurb is on the book’s back cover), dignity.

There’s a great deal of gentle humor too, including a dancing bear and crocodile you won’t soon forget. (The dancing bear is pictured below, so be sure to take a look.)

Riddle incorporates photography into these illustrations. Here are some spreads so that you can take in some of this for yourself. …

 

“By day, Clive works in a factory. He doesn’t know what is made there; he just puts the same two parts together — over and over. By night, Clive gets up to more foxy things.”

 



 


(Click either image above to see spread in its entirety)

 



 


(Click either image above to see spread in its entirety)

 


“Then they were ushered to luxurious dress circle seats where they could see absolutely everything. Soon they were swept along by the sheer brilliance of
Nobody Owns the Moon. In all the right places, they laughed and sighed,
and as it neared its bittersweet ending, Humphrey wept.”

 

NOBODY OWNS THE MOON. Text and illustrations © Tohby Ridle. First published by Penguin Australia in 2008. Published in 2019 by Berbay Publishing Pty Ltd. Illustrations reproduced by permission of the publisher.