The Invention of Hugo Cabret

She loved it, great tale for generations to come.

No one can really summarize a book any better than the author proper. So what is, "The Invention of Hugo Cabret" anyway? "... this is not exactly a novel, and it's not quite a picture book, and it's not really a graphic novel, or a flip book, or a movie, but a combination of all these things." In short, what you have is a book that can't really be lumped into a single genre. With the rising popularity of the graphic novel, authors have been looking at how to let the visual elements of a given story complement the text. Some will weave graphic novel elements in and out, panels on one page, text on another. Others prefer a kind of "Captain Underpants" melding with cartoonish pictures. And while all these books are fun reads, none of them have ever really had the (for lack of a better word) gravitas you'd find in a classic text-only children's novel. Until now, that is. "Hugo Cabret" is a risk. A 500+ page book that's told just equally by pictures as it is by text. It is also like nothing you've ever seen before. No other children's book has even come close. Without Hugo Cabret, none of the clocks in the magnificent Paris train station he lives in would work. Though he's only a kid, Hugo tends to the clocks every day. But there's something even more important in the boy's life than gigantic mechanics. Hugo owns a complex automaton, once his father's, that was damaged in a fire and it is his life's goal to make the little machine work again. To do so, he's been stealing small toys from an old shopkeeper in the station. One day the man catches Hugo in the act, and suddenly the two are thrown together. Coincidences, puzzles, lost keys, and a mystery from the past combine in this complex tale of old and new. The story is told with pictures that act out the action and then several pages of text that describe the plot elements. The final effect is like watching a puzzle work itself into clarity. Selznick is juggling so many different elements and inspirations in this book that you honestly expect the result to be a muddle. Okay. So you have a story involving old-timey movie-maker Georges Melies (he's the old shopkeeper) whose image in this book was modeled on children's book author Remy Charlip (also an influence). You have an automaton, the history of automatons, and the history of movies themselves. There are photographs of old films mixed in with some bizarre sketches. Then you throw all of this together and add in a story about a boy, a girl, a one-eyed man, toys, keys, and a train station. Boom! Instant book. The fact that this title ISN'T a mess is downright bizarre. They say that the mark of a good musical depends on how well the songs advance the story's plot. You can't just have your characters burst into song and then act like nothing ever happened. The case could be made too for books like "Hugo Cabret". If there is a picture in this story, it has a purpose. Nothing here was included on a whim. When the book breaks from word to image, it has

THE INVENTION OF HUGO CABRET is art of a high order. To start with, this book is a beautiful object. The right dust jacket can definitely sell a book. The graphite rendering of Hugo in extreme close-up gracing the book's spine and wrapping around the back cover is what drew me to the bookshelf in the first place. And upon discovering the book's unusual format, I was hooked. The artwork here does not illustrate the text. Rather it advances the plot. It's a little like watching a silent movie and reading title cards...completely appropriate in a story dealing with the origins of cinema. The story lives up to the promise of the packaging. It is immediately engaging and ultimately touching. Hugo is the orphaned son of a clock-maker, living in the walls behind a Parisian train station, maintaining the station's clocks, stealing bread and milk to survive, stealing nuts, bolts, and gears to complete a project his father was working on when he died. His secret existence is threatened as his life becomes entwined with a bitter, old man and a bookish young girl. It's part graphic novel, part mystery, part coming-of-age. There are echoes of Pinocchio but with a twist as here it is a lonely boy building an automaton father figure. This is a timeless book about, among other things, time. This is a book for the ages, and a book for all ages. The story, the artwork, the writing style, the overall design, all first rate parts of a greater whole, like the precisely crafted mechanism of a fine Swiss clock.