Francois Place exhibits the skills of an expert cartographer and consummate storyteller. He combines the joy of storytelling with exquisitely crafted visuals in two parallel stories of journeys that lie somewhere between truth and fiction. The ineffable delicacy of the illustrations puts Le secret d’Orbae in the category of fiction that describes - as if part of a dream world – the ardour, hopes and world vision of all great voyagers since time began. But this is not just an account of anthropological and geographical exploration. Imagination and fantasy are very much part of this gripping tale. The deliberately muted tones of the illustrations also allude to a “vision of the world” where elegance has pride of place. The maps of the fictional countries visited give substance to an imaginary world. Not only a delight to the eye, places and patterns contribute to the knowledge adventure brings and a comforting awareness of human achievement.

From the Surrealists to Federico Fellini, the figure of the circus acrobat has asserted itself as part of a special “ars poetica” wherever beauty and plasticity of form lend themselves to flights of true fancy. Though part of our world, these acrobats seem to lead us into another Alice-in-Wonderland world, half dream, half fiction where delight and mystery reign. The skilful ensemble of signs that come together in every plate weave an intriguing narrative. Even the most critical, knowledgeable eye stands in awe before the ability to invent a universe where the acrobat’s physical body becomes spectacle, illusion, document and repertory. As the book moves forward, the figures take on new definitions. Each is a theatrical spectacle in and of itself, every costume a topographical map, every facial expression demanding he reader’s complicity. A truly remarkable book that does honour to illustration and publishing.

It is only fitting that Marjorie Rawlings, the great American writer loved by so many generations of readers, is finally paid such a refined and sensitive tribute. Here objects and animals, atmospheres, flowers and houses all seem part of a nature bathed in a dream-like light. There is no hint, however, of sentimental ecological whimsy. The world of the secret river is also harsh and threatening; nor does it yield all its secrets. Here the expert anthropomorphism employed is not in aid of any "feel-good" sentimentality but rather  – as in all great fairy tales – serves to piece all the emotional fragments of the story together. The somber clarity of the fascinating illustration can be likened to the Mannerists, and seems to be telling us that there are many still uncovered secrets in our relationship with nature. Just as the great Secret lurks in the story, masterfully told and illustrated in muted tones, it is also out there in the woods, in the houses, among the murmurs, cries and silent passions depicted so skilfully. The result is pages that help readers develop and think.