The Cat Who Went to Heaven (1931)
After the mostly grueling (though intermittently enjoyable) slog of getting through the first decade of Newbery winners, nothing could have prepared me for The Cat Who Went to Heaven. On one hand, it’s got all the trappings of other winners from the 20s and 30s. It’s set in an exotic land (Japan) and written by a white author (Elizabeth Coatsworth) who has no ethnic connection to the culture she’s writing about. On the other hand, it’s a gentle prayer of a book, deeply moving and disarmingly profound. The Newbery doesn’t deserve The Cat Who Went to Heaven. How the hell did it sneak onto this list?
Another idiosyncrasy: Cat is richly illustrated. I haven’t mentioned it consistently, but nearly every one of the winners thus far have had illustrations. Sometimes, they’ve been done by the authors themselves—Van Loon’s clumsy/charming work in The Story of Mankind, or Will James’s masterful work in Smoky the Cowhorse—but others have been tacked on to the written word, changing from published edition to edition. Overall, the pictures are accessories to the main writings, and generally feel added on after the fact. The Cat Who Went to Heaven is the first book that feels like a true collaboration between author and illustrator, but the truth is more complicated.
Woodcut by Lynd Ward
So let’s start with the illustrator, shall we? Lynd Ward was a lifelong artist, most famous for the woodcut prints he started making in the 1920s. Stylistically, they’re of a piece with the Art Deco/German expressionist style that was taking shape in Europe at the time (Lynd spent a year studying art in Germany), but contextually they were something relatively new. Deeply inspired by Frans Masereel, Lynd is often credited with creating America’s first “wordless novel”, the grandfather of today’s graphic novel.
Though his true passion, the wordless novel didn’t pay his bills, and so Ward found time to illustrate other books on the side. Many of these fit cleanly into his typical style—richly detailed black and whites with a macabre edge—but his work in The Cat Who Went to Heaven represents a radical departure twice over. In the initial edition of the book, Ward created simple, childlike black and white watercolors to accompany the story. They suit the book okay, but why would anyone get Lynd Ward to illustrate an extended parable about the tenants of Buddhism? It would be like hiring Tim Burton to direct An Affair to Remember. Judging by those initial illustrations, it seems clear that Ward took the job as just another paying gig. Unlike anything else I’ve seen of his, they’re boring, and I can’t imagine they took him more than two or three hours, tops.
The Cat Who Went to Heaven is a book about an author painting a giant tapestry, and so the pictures themselves aren’t just accoutrement, they’re really an essential part of the experience. An older, wiser Ward must have realized this, because once he rose to prominence, he tried to undo his initial work. Twenty-two years after winning the Newbery, Ward won the Caldecott Medal for his first book as both author and illustrator, The Biggest Bear. This raised his profile enough that he decided to re-illustrate The Cat Who Went to Heaven for a new edition, this time using the same casein painting style he’d used in The Biggest Bear (along with some of his classic woodcuts) to render the book in a richer, more detailed hue. And wouldn’t you know, the remakes are better than the original. In short, the newer illustrations are breathtaking. The portraits of each animal are stunningly lifelike while adopting just enough of Ward’s expressionist tendencies to make them stand out. It’s hard to imagine the book having the same heft without Ward’s updated art.
In fact, the book would have likely been categorized as an adult-oriented religious work without the illustrations. Cat is about a poor Japanese artist who lives in isolation with his housekeeper. One day, the housekeeper decides to use their meager savings to buy a pet cat instead of food, much to the artist’s chagrin. However, the cat seems to bring luck, and the artist is commissioned by a local temple to paint a tapestry of Siddhartha’s death. Divided into eight sections to mirror the eightfold path, the book traces the artist’s progress through a series of Buddhist parables reflected in his painting. Not exactly exhilarating kid stuff, but reading the book as an adult felt like meditation. Author Elizabeth Coatsworth (who traveled through Asia and so at least brings some authentic ideas to her writing) treats every chapter like a precious jewel, guiding readers through some heady philosophical territory with precision and grace. Not a single word is wasted, and by the time you get to the end of the book, it truly feels like a religious experience.
Though an odd selection for the Newbery committee to make, The Cat Who Went to Heaven represents the best of the best so far. More than that, it stands out to me as an under-appreciated gem in literature as a whole, and is one I’ve already purchased for my own bookshelf.
