DANCING WITH DAISY

In 1962, Hurricane Daisy hit Nova Scotia.

When Liam asks about an old photo, Grampy, with his bald pate and white beard, begins to spin a tall tale. “There’s a story goes along with that photograph, a story about a nasty, wild girl in search of a dance partner.” Grampy narrates his encounter with the storm, personified as a forceful woman. Ghostly hands and a spectral body whirl through the multimedia illustrations, with crayon and paint creating eddies of movement in the scenes. Liam probes about the experience’s effects: Grampy’s twisty hands, lack of hair, loss of teeth. His grandpa explains that Daisy tried to take hold of his hands while he clung to a tree, making his hands “as gnarled and crooked as that branch.” Then “her army of seagulls plucked me like a daisy” (causing Liam to recall a “mean” hair-pulling female classmate). Even after Grampy returns home, Daisy still pursues him, “wailing like a jealous banshee” before Nana successfully fends her off. There’s an appealingly close bond between Grampy and Liam (and both child and grandparents present white in the illustrations), but while the folkloric text sweeps readers along with its playful allusions, the persistent evocation of Daisy as both woman and threat palls. As Grampy draws to a close, Liam says, “I hope I never meet a wild girl like that!”

Family history and legendary exploits in a memorable setting, but the remarks about the dangerous behaviors of women and girls pile up.