The Table Where Rich People Sit

Rating:
Summary: A story about what is really important
Review: Mountain Girl complains that her family is poor. They sit at a ramshakle table they made themselves as the family discusses what they do have and discover that they are wealthy beyond belief. They have sunsets, eagles, mountins, etc. A good reminder of what is really important.

Rating:
Summary: Sit a spell
Review: You may not be able to tell from where you read this, but at this moment in time I am punching myself roundly. Why? For the simple reason that I made a bizarre and irrational assumption about this book when I first heard about it. Picture this... it is 1997 and I'm rooming with a dear hippie friend in a Quaker college dorm. She's describing to me her favorite book: "The Table Where Rich People Sit" by Byrd Baylor. As she explains the plot of the book to me, even (I now sigh) handing me a copy, I jump to what I felt was a logical conclusion. Obviously this book was originally published in the 1970s. After all, it deals with the price of happiness, the glory of the natural environment, and the beauty of the world around us. Flash forward some seven years later and I'm reading "The Table Where Rich People Sit" once again. It is, undoubtedly, a magnificently beautiful book in all respects. Then I flip to the publication page and find the year "1994" staring me in the face. 1994? This book... this lovely free-flowing book about leaving "civilized" society to accept the world on your own terms... this was written in the 1990s? Well there you have it. I made the ridiculous assumption that this tale simply was a part of a larger social upheaval when, in fact, it was a small rebellion in and of itself. My bad. My bad.

In this story Mountain Girl has called a meeting of the members of her family. She lives with her mom, dad, and brother in a home outskirting cliffs, canyons, deserts, and mountains, and it has just occurred to her that they are by no means rich. To make her case, Mountain Girl insists that the family recognize that they are seriously lacking in funds. They own a beat up old truck, wear clothing that's patched, and eat at a table that was constructed out of lumber someone else threw away. Says Morning Girl, "Understand, I like this table fine. All I'm saying is, you can tell it didn't come from a furniture store". She insists that her parents consider getting better paying jobs, possibly in an office building. To prove to their daughter that they are far richer than she may think, they ask her to calculate the price it's worth to work outdoors, say $20,000. Then she adds another $30,000 for the sound of coyotes howling in the hills. That doesn't even include the price of seeing the changing colors on the faraway mountains, or the color of a cactus bloom, or even the beauty of living amongst day and night birds at all times. By the time Morning Girl considers it all, actual money seems to have become a lot less important, and she joins her family for a walk to find the sliver of the new moon in the sky. She pats the table, and the reader comes to understand the title of the book a little better by the end.

Oh it's hippy-dippy all right. No question. But the book is far more practical and spiritual than your run-of-the-mill "love all living creatures" picture books out there. First of all, the main character is only called Mountain Girl because that's the nickname her parents gave her. When she was born they lifted her to the sky just eight minutes after her birth to view the sunrise on the mountainside. You can guess why her brother's nicknamed Ocean Boy. Any practical person reading this story will certainly sympathize with Mountain Girl's attempts to talk some sense into her parents too. While she's talking about practical financial matters (think of her as Alec on "Family Ties") her parents are talking about practical soulful matters. They certainly don't starve and their lives are just as they would want them to be, a fact that initially eludes their eldest daughter. What the book is truly asking is, what price freedom? When do you stop worrying about things that don't matter and grab a hold of the things that really do?

Accompanying this message (one that I think kids have an easier a time of understanding than their parents) are artist Peter Parnall's gorgeous illustrations. Using a fascinating combination of fine line pens and bright vivid watercolors, each picture in this tale is an intricate decision of what to and what not to fill in. The delicate line work here creates rocky craggy cliffs and deep swirling ocean depths. Here, an illustration accompanying text describing the beauty of cactus blooms shows a pair of hovering brown eyes with the barest of outlines creating the impression of hair. In the foreground, a perfectly rendered flower opens up to the opposite page's warming sun. You can find hidden pictures of horses here, or luminous mountain shadows that change from aquamarine to deep forest green. Parnall is intelligent enought to know that the grandeur of nature can only be truly hinted at on the page. Therefore, these are pictures that show snatches of breathtaking beauty in every scene. Every white space here is just as important as every color and shade.

There are people who will pick up this book, scoff at its message (without reading it) and degrade its content sight unseen. There are also people who will read it all the way through and find themselves uncomfortable with its presentation and message. Then there are those who truly believe what the book is saying. They will understand what it teaches, what it implies, and what it means to those kids who read (or are read) it. For them, this book will find its way into their hearts. Even if you don't like it, you must concede its beauty. I suggest you find yourself a copy and snuggle down for a fascinating read. You may be surprised at your own responses.