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Niños
Niños es un libro de textos breves que evoca los sueños, expectativas y lenguaje de cada pequeño y pequeña, así como esos detalles que conforman el mundo de cada uno y que dan vida a su individualidad. Los textos son de la escritora María José Ferrada y las ilustraciones son del historietista e ilustrador Jorge Quien.
En el contexto de la conmemoración de los 40 años del Golpe Militar, el libro Niños es un homenaje a los niños y niñas, así como a los jóvenes y menores de edad, que fueron víctimas de la violencia política y de la represión en dictadura.
En el contexto de la conmemoración de los 40 años del Golpe Militar, el libro Niños es un homenaje a los niños y niñas, así como a los jóvenes y menores de edad, que fueron víctimas de la violencia política y de la represión en dictadura.
80 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2013
2 people are currently reading
222 people want to read
About the author
María José Ferrada
72 books116 followersMaría José Ferrada is the author of Mexique: A Refugee Story from the Spanish Civil War. She is a recipient of the Municipal Prize of Literature of Santiago, as well as the Academy Award from the Chilean Academy of Language. María currently works as the children's editor of Chilean Memory, a digital resource center of the National Library of Chile.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 47 reviews
May 17, 2021
Heartbreaking poems written for the 34 children who disappeared during Pinochet's reign of terror - highest recommendation.
February 25, 2021
It used to be that historical horrors were routinely hidden from children. They might get the rough general outlines of the past, but children’s books weren’t being used as teaching tools in that particular way. There would be the odd novel that alluded to the Holocaust, but that was the exception. And then, a shift occurred. It wasn’t that we decided that children were made of Teflon and we could throw every terrible historical event at them at once. Rather, publishing made the slow choice to acknowledge that many kids have the ability to learn from the past. As such, we’ve seen books that can speak on a wider range of terrible things come out recently. Books that talk about Hiroshima, what happened on 9/11, the Oklahoma City bombing, and more. But of course, these are all events with ties to America. What happens when the terrible event doesn’t touch you directly or indirectly at all? What if it happened to other people in another country far away? If we hope to foster a burgeoning sense of empathy in kids, niños: Poems for the Lost Children of Chile might be a good place to start. Oddly sweet, melancholic, and peaceful, this is poetry as remembrance as well as healing. It is also very much one of a kind.
Under the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet, people disappeared. People died. And by the time his seventeen year long rule ended, thirty-four of the dead were children. In this book, each child is given one poem. They consider raindrops, the future, seashells, flowerpots, ants, light bulbs and more. They are the poems of children discovering their world. These poems are here so that we do not forget. These poems are here so that we always remember.
In size and shape, this book would seem to bear very few similarities to a title published in 2020 called I Wish. Yet it only takes the most tender of glances to see that these two books complement one another perfectly. Both are imports to America, one from Mexico, the other from the Netherlands. Both contain poems of children separated from us by time and circumstance. And in both cases these poems are an intoxicating mix of wonder and beauty, though with a dark current running beneath it all. These books acknowledge the darkness in the world and combat it with poems. Strange poems. Odd poems. Poems that show how a child’s brain is always noticing and wondering with a complexity adults have long since forgotten. In niños we wonder what their lives might have been, even as we acknowledge that their lives are nothing like our own. It’s enough to make me wonder why books from other countries aren’t afraid to confront the sheer strangeness of being a child through poetry. We Americans, in contrast, are a bit more interested in having our poetry books follow some pre-ordained, thematic track (baseball poetry, science and nature poetry, etc.). Once in a while, it’s good to read a child poems that stretch the gray matter in a direction where it hasn’t been stretched before.
Of course one key difference between niños and I Wish is that in niños Ferrada is putting words into the mouths of children that have no say in the matter. Who’s to say that the personalities on display here are the same personalities of the real children? Maybe Soledad hated the rain or Jessica was afraid of ants. I pondered this for a little while. Was the book doing something wrong? What if someone did this with the kids killed at Sandy Hook? But as I flipped through the book a couple times, it occurred to me that Ferrada makes a clear distinction between the Soledad who is speaking in this book and the Soledad Esther Torres Aguayo who was killed when she was only four. The children’s full names are all placed at the end of the book with their ages. The poems, meanwhile, just have a first name. This makes the kids whose voices appear in the poems both a part of the real children who are gone, and yet a kind of acknowledgment of the fact that this is fiction not fact at work. Ferrada’s work here is not documentation but a form of honoring the idea of childhood and the children that were lost as a whole. This is her method, but it is only one method. There are others waiting to be tried.
Ferrada does this rather clever juxtaposition right at the beginning of the book that’s interesting. She begins the book with a section just called ““Niños” where she gives a little background on what was happening in Chile during this time period. After talking about the thirty-four children she writes, “To those children, and to the memory that helps us defeat monsters, we dedicate this book.” The first poem comes immediately after this is called Alicia and it starts in this way: “Of all the gifts she’s been given this birthday / her favorite are the balloons / that decorated the house for the party.” And it tells of a girl that wishes she could let the balloons fly out the window for the wind. After all, it must have a birthday of it own, right? Even if we don’t know it, it must have one.” This poem is all light and life and birthdays. It provides a kind of sweet chaser to that aforementioned underlying darkness. And the more I read, the more I came to admire the structure of it all. You get to the last of the children, and then a list of their names and ages when they died. Then, just when you think that you’re done, you turn the page and find one last poem. “Pablo” it’s called. And under the poem, a poem that begins “When I grow up I’ll be a tree, a cloud, a wave, a snail” the book reads “Pablo Athanasiu, victim of a system of persecution and extermination that knew no borders, was part of this list until August 7, 2013, the day when the Abuelas of the Plaza de Mayo found him alive.” It’s the drop of hope at the end. The only way to end this book on the right note. It works.
And the poems are good. In her heartbreaking 2020 import Mexique, Ferrada dove deep into the rift that occurs when children are made to bear the brunt of adults’ actions. But where that book felt necessary but difficult, here she imbues such joy in these poems. Gabriel: “He likes to imagine that the stars are holes in the sky. / When the sun hides itself, / the Earth is covered by a black coat. / It is so old it has holes - / thus, those lights.” They’re all like this, to varying degrees. The children think and ponder and investigate and wonder. The overall impression is that they are all truly enthralled with life and its mysteries.
Accompanying these thoughts is the art of María Elena Valdez done in watercolors, graphite, pastels, charcoal, and colored pencils. These aren’t portraits of the kids. Rather they’re the impressions left by the poems. Color is there, but it’s limited. Restrained. And the graphite provides a bit of literal foreshadowing. And best of all, there’s a connection between them if you really look. I very much enjoyed watching the silhouette of Rafael, with rings around the orange in his pocket, mimicked by the rings of the rain in “Soledad”, and how “Hugo” then combines both the rings on the ground and the silhouette of a boy, tying the three poems together. There are lots of little connecting details like this, but you have to stop and look for them.
There are as many ways to present collections of poetry to children as there are stars in the sky. Reading this, I think a slightly older child, one in the fifth or sixth grade, would get a lot out of this. Some kids gravitate to stories of historical horror shows. I remember fielding requests from kids looking for Anne Frank/Titanic/Donner Party books when I worked the children’s desk. This book is quieter than those. It demands a certain level of respect, and then dares to give you something of high literary quality in the process. In the right hands, it teaches and informs but also presents some darn good verses. I’m sure that Ms. Ferrada had no plan in mind when she finished it at last. What we as parents and teachers choose to do with it is our business. But as a collection of poetry, it’s a standout. One that deserves to be remembered long after we too are gone.
For ages 9-12.
Under the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet, people disappeared. People died. And by the time his seventeen year long rule ended, thirty-four of the dead were children. In this book, each child is given one poem. They consider raindrops, the future, seashells, flowerpots, ants, light bulbs and more. They are the poems of children discovering their world. These poems are here so that we do not forget. These poems are here so that we always remember.
In size and shape, this book would seem to bear very few similarities to a title published in 2020 called I Wish. Yet it only takes the most tender of glances to see that these two books complement one another perfectly. Both are imports to America, one from Mexico, the other from the Netherlands. Both contain poems of children separated from us by time and circumstance. And in both cases these poems are an intoxicating mix of wonder and beauty, though with a dark current running beneath it all. These books acknowledge the darkness in the world and combat it with poems. Strange poems. Odd poems. Poems that show how a child’s brain is always noticing and wondering with a complexity adults have long since forgotten. In niños we wonder what their lives might have been, even as we acknowledge that their lives are nothing like our own. It’s enough to make me wonder why books from other countries aren’t afraid to confront the sheer strangeness of being a child through poetry. We Americans, in contrast, are a bit more interested in having our poetry books follow some pre-ordained, thematic track (baseball poetry, science and nature poetry, etc.). Once in a while, it’s good to read a child poems that stretch the gray matter in a direction where it hasn’t been stretched before.
Of course one key difference between niños and I Wish is that in niños Ferrada is putting words into the mouths of children that have no say in the matter. Who’s to say that the personalities on display here are the same personalities of the real children? Maybe Soledad hated the rain or Jessica was afraid of ants. I pondered this for a little while. Was the book doing something wrong? What if someone did this with the kids killed at Sandy Hook? But as I flipped through the book a couple times, it occurred to me that Ferrada makes a clear distinction between the Soledad who is speaking in this book and the Soledad Esther Torres Aguayo who was killed when she was only four. The children’s full names are all placed at the end of the book with their ages. The poems, meanwhile, just have a first name. This makes the kids whose voices appear in the poems both a part of the real children who are gone, and yet a kind of acknowledgment of the fact that this is fiction not fact at work. Ferrada’s work here is not documentation but a form of honoring the idea of childhood and the children that were lost as a whole. This is her method, but it is only one method. There are others waiting to be tried.
Ferrada does this rather clever juxtaposition right at the beginning of the book that’s interesting. She begins the book with a section just called ““Niños” where she gives a little background on what was happening in Chile during this time period. After talking about the thirty-four children she writes, “To those children, and to the memory that helps us defeat monsters, we dedicate this book.” The first poem comes immediately after this is called Alicia and it starts in this way: “Of all the gifts she’s been given this birthday / her favorite are the balloons / that decorated the house for the party.” And it tells of a girl that wishes she could let the balloons fly out the window for the wind. After all, it must have a birthday of it own, right? Even if we don’t know it, it must have one.” This poem is all light and life and birthdays. It provides a kind of sweet chaser to that aforementioned underlying darkness. And the more I read, the more I came to admire the structure of it all. You get to the last of the children, and then a list of their names and ages when they died. Then, just when you think that you’re done, you turn the page and find one last poem. “Pablo” it’s called. And under the poem, a poem that begins “When I grow up I’ll be a tree, a cloud, a wave, a snail” the book reads “Pablo Athanasiu, victim of a system of persecution and extermination that knew no borders, was part of this list until August 7, 2013, the day when the Abuelas of the Plaza de Mayo found him alive.” It’s the drop of hope at the end. The only way to end this book on the right note. It works.
And the poems are good. In her heartbreaking 2020 import Mexique, Ferrada dove deep into the rift that occurs when children are made to bear the brunt of adults’ actions. But where that book felt necessary but difficult, here she imbues such joy in these poems. Gabriel: “He likes to imagine that the stars are holes in the sky. / When the sun hides itself, / the Earth is covered by a black coat. / It is so old it has holes - / thus, those lights.” They’re all like this, to varying degrees. The children think and ponder and investigate and wonder. The overall impression is that they are all truly enthralled with life and its mysteries.
Accompanying these thoughts is the art of María Elena Valdez done in watercolors, graphite, pastels, charcoal, and colored pencils. These aren’t portraits of the kids. Rather they’re the impressions left by the poems. Color is there, but it’s limited. Restrained. And the graphite provides a bit of literal foreshadowing. And best of all, there’s a connection between them if you really look. I very much enjoyed watching the silhouette of Rafael, with rings around the orange in his pocket, mimicked by the rings of the rain in “Soledad”, and how “Hugo” then combines both the rings on the ground and the silhouette of a boy, tying the three poems together. There are lots of little connecting details like this, but you have to stop and look for them.
There are as many ways to present collections of poetry to children as there are stars in the sky. Reading this, I think a slightly older child, one in the fifth or sixth grade, would get a lot out of this. Some kids gravitate to stories of historical horror shows. I remember fielding requests from kids looking for Anne Frank/Titanic/Donner Party books when I worked the children’s desk. This book is quieter than those. It demands a certain level of respect, and then dares to give you something of high literary quality in the process. In the right hands, it teaches and informs but also presents some darn good verses. I’m sure that Ms. Ferrada had no plan in mind when she finished it at last. What we as parents and teachers choose to do with it is our business. But as a collection of poetry, it’s a standout. One that deserves to be remembered long after we too are gone.
For ages 9-12.
August 6, 2023
le gusta mirar cómo cada noche se apagan
[las luces
que ve desde su ventana.
porque es como mirar puestas de sol
luciérnagas,
pequeños faros.
[las luces
que ve desde su ventana.
porque es como mirar puestas de sol
luciérnagas,
pequeños faros.
October 2, 2023
'cuando crezca será coleccionista de sonidos:
las hojas y el viento.
los pasos de su papá al subir la escalera.
el nacimiento de los brotes en los maceteros.
el canto con el que la abuela la hace dormir.'
las hojas y el viento.
los pasos de su papá al subir la escalera.
el nacimiento de los brotes en los maceteros.
el canto con el que la abuela la hace dormir.'
January 24, 2024
Dedicado a todos los niños desaparecidos en la dictadura chilena. Un libro infantil que no deja de ser bellísimo pero doloroso. 34 poemas para cada niño que debería de estar riendo, llamando a su madre, jugando, y no viviendo los estragos de la violencia política, es por esto que los poemas están llenos de vitalidad y felicidad, porque esa debería de ser la realidad de todas las infancias.
"Hugo:
Quiere ser poeta.
Y hará un poema que rime
Con el clap clap de las suelas de los zapatos
Sobre los charcos."
"Hugo:
Quiere ser poeta.
Y hará un poema que rime
Con el clap clap de las suelas de los zapatos
Sobre los charcos."
May 9, 2021
Although most Americans will be unaware of the events that occurred in Chile during General Pinochet's dictatorship, beginning in 1973, this book will make them want to learn more. It will also sadden them to consider the lost lives of men, women, and children, "anyone who was declared different" (from the Foreword, "Ninos") or presumably disagreed with Pinochet. With delicate illustrations, blooming with life and possibilities and the dreams of those children who died or simply disappeared and images created with watercolor, graphite, pastel, charcoal, and colored pencils, this slim volume celebrates their short lives. The 34 poems are brief, somehow capturing the essence of each lost child and his/her/their hobbies or pleasures. For instance, poems describe the fondness Alicia had for the birthday balloons that she can release from her window: "...it would be like giving a gift to the wind. / Because the wind must also have a birthday" (unpaged). Even though some of those experiences are typical of childhood {Claudia's staring into the sky and spotting various animals among the clouds, Elizabeth playing Teacher], others such as Orlando's interest in studying and drawing insects and Sergio's decision to "plant words in a flowerpot" (unpaged) are unusual, attesting to the lost possibilities of what these children might have done or become. The list of the 32 who were killed, one whose whereabouts are still unknown, and one who had been thought missing but was found alive can be found in the book's final pages. The images of 24 of those youngsters can be found on the book's front and back cover. While I felt incredibly sad upon finishing the book, I also was impressed with all the efforts that must have gone into finding out what happened to these children, all under the age of 14, and learning more about them.
May 19, 2022
Se suele preferir la narración del espacio público y de los grandes hitos a la hora de abordar las dictaduras. Este libro, en cambio, tiene la valentía de abordar imágenes y sensibilidades que no tienen ninguna cabida en los registros más tradicionales. Me parece que la poesía tiene esa gran potencialidad, la de darle espacio a cosas que nadie tomó mucho en cuenta.
Es muy emocionante el concepto de este libro, y creo que en general me convence la forma en que está ejecutado. Tengo mis reparos con algunos poemas, como el de la luna y el queso, porque para mi gusto poner ese lugar común te obliga a desarrollarlo de una manera muy única , y como eso no pasó, me molestó un poco. A pesar de eso, le doy las cinco estrellas completas, porque creo que es muy bonito, sensible, inteligente y especial.
Es muy emocionante el concepto de este libro, y creo que en general me convence la forma en que está ejecutado. Tengo mis reparos con algunos poemas, como el de la luna y el queso, porque para mi gusto poner ese lugar común te obliga a desarrollarlo de una manera muy única , y como eso no pasó, me molestó un poco. A pesar de eso, le doy las cinco estrellas completas, porque creo que es muy bonito, sensible, inteligente y especial.
March 18, 2020
Libro tierno, dulce y doloroso. Lo leí con mi hija de 7 años explicándole mínimamente sobre los niños ejecutados. Lo disfrutamos, nos entristeció y lo reflexionamos juntos. Altamente recomendable.
July 31, 2022
Según el informe Retting y de la Corporación nacional para la reconciliación y reparación, 34 menores de edad, entre niños y niñas fueron ejecutados durante la dictadura. ¿Por qué esa barbarie? Hasta hoy no sabemos todas las respuestas de todas esas preguntas.
En un homenaje y rescate de una memoria que no debe ser olvidada en lo absoluto, María José Ferrada, junto a las ilustraciones de María Elena Valdez, rescatan los 34 nombres de esos niñas y niños e imaginan su ensoñaciones: desde mirar las estrellas, hasta juntar el agua de lluvia para formar otro océano.
No nos damos cuenta de la potencia de su mensaje hasta no pasar por cada una de sus historias, pensamientos y sueños que fueron coartados de una manera que no tiene lógica alguna. Como muy bien dice la autora: no hay explicación para esta clase de barbarie.
Es un libro infantil para la memoria y el recuerdo, y para saber que existieron estos crímenes atroces, sabiendo que algún momento podemos tener la valentía de querer, y exigir a toda costa, la verdad absoluta de lo que ha pasado con miles de chilenas y chilenos que aún hoy son detenidos desaparecidos.
Una lectura que te llegará al alma, pero que también te permitirá conectar con una infancia distinta y hacer que las y los más pequeños de casa también sienta que pueden soñar como esos niños que no pudieron seguir haciéndolo.
En un homenaje y rescate de una memoria que no debe ser olvidada en lo absoluto, María José Ferrada, junto a las ilustraciones de María Elena Valdez, rescatan los 34 nombres de esos niñas y niños e imaginan su ensoñaciones: desde mirar las estrellas, hasta juntar el agua de lluvia para formar otro océano.
No nos damos cuenta de la potencia de su mensaje hasta no pasar por cada una de sus historias, pensamientos y sueños que fueron coartados de una manera que no tiene lógica alguna. Como muy bien dice la autora: no hay explicación para esta clase de barbarie.
Es un libro infantil para la memoria y el recuerdo, y para saber que existieron estos crímenes atroces, sabiendo que algún momento podemos tener la valentía de querer, y exigir a toda costa, la verdad absoluta de lo que ha pasado con miles de chilenas y chilenos que aún hoy son detenidos desaparecidos.
Una lectura que te llegará al alma, pero que también te permitirá conectar con una infancia distinta y hacer que las y los más pequeños de casa también sienta que pueden soñar como esos niños que no pudieron seguir haciéndolo.
September 14, 2023
mi favorito, el poema dedicado a héctor:
se pregunta como es posible que el sonido del mar viva en los caracoles.
se lo pregunta toda la tarde.
al llegar la noche se da por vencido.
y lo anota en su lista de misterios.
se pregunta como es posible que el sonido del mar viva en los caracoles.
se lo pregunta toda la tarde.
al llegar la noche se da por vencido.
y lo anota en su lista de misterios.
September 18, 2022
34 poemas hermosos y dolorosos, este libro muestra la vivencia de niños, niñas y adolescentes que a causa de la dictadura militar chilena sus sonrisas, sus juegos y sueños fueron borrados.
October 13, 2023
Honrar con delicadeza.
September 5, 2021
34 poems to remember the 34 children who were killed or disappeared during General Pinochet's regime from 1973 - 1990 in Chile. The backdoor will break your heart.
April 6, 2021
The brutal regime of Augusto Pincohet whose seventeen-year dictatorship of Chile began with a military coup on September 11, 1973, resulted in 3,197 people dead or "disappeared"—including thirty-four children under the age of fourteen. The thirty-four poems by María José Ferrada are memorials to each of those murdered children. Ferrada's gentle, emotive verse and María Elena Valdez's soft, pastel-toned illustrations are a jarring contrast to the horrors that ended the young lives memorialized. A remarkable, emotionally stirring work. Originally published in Mexico.
October 4, 2021
Not generally a poetry reader, I found this collection beautifully done. The poems themselves are short but capture a child's sense of wonder at the world around them, their love of the natural world, their homes and things they take pleasure in. There is also the feel of possibility and as you, the reader, knows that all of these children were killed before they turned 14, then that feeling of unfulfilled promise makes a far greater impact. Add the wonderful illustrations by Maria Elena Valdez, and you have a beautiful and thought provoking book.
January 28, 2020
Pucha, no me produjo nada :(
October 13, 2024
La lectura de Niños deja un sabor agridulce. Por un lado, es admirable como María José Ferrada logra hablar por los niños, pero es doloroso que no sean ellos quienes puedan contar su propia historia. Es la segunda vez que leo a esta autora, y es sencillamente maravillosa. Su repertorio de imágenes y su capacidad para plasmar el sentir y actuar de los niños es envidiable. Me hace pensar en los elementos recurrentes que comparten varios de ellos: la luna, el sol, el mar, el viento, los regalos, las manzanas y los pájaros. Destaco la importancia de darle a cada niño unos versos propios y un dibujo distintivo que acompañan su nombre. Las listas de detenidos desaparecidos y víctimas de la dictadura, aunque mencionan nombres, muchas veces ignoran quiénes fueron y quiénes podrían haber sido.
Reflexiono sobre el tiempo verbal de algunos poemas, como Alejandra, que “verá llegar la primavera”, o Samuel, que “quería averiguar y comprobar que la tierra era redonda”. En estos versos, hay un juego con lo que fueron y lo que podrían haber sido estos niños, lamentablemente ejecutados o desaparecidos durante la dictadura. Es crucial el papel del recuerdo, de humanizar esas largas listas de nombres que tantas veces hemos leído mecánicamente. Es estremecedor pensar que las mismas fantasías que uno imaginó de niño, otros jamás las podrán imaginar.
Ferrada trabaja con la memoria, invitándonos a no olvidar y a profundizar en ella. Me parece noble el gesto de darle vida eterna en estas páginas a quienes les fue arrebatada tan prematuramente. Este trabajo resuena con la labor de la Comisión Nacional de Verdad y Reconciliación, recordándonos lo esencial que es contar esta historia a nuestros estudiantes. Mostrarles que fue un periodo de crueldad tan extrema que hasta los niños fueron víctimas. Trabajar la memoria significa reconocer lo sucedido, llorar a los muertos y asegurarnos de que nunca vuelva a repetirse. Esto no solo debe abordarse en una clase de Historia, sino que trasciende todas las materias.
Quizás, al mencionar tantos elementos naturales, la autora nos invita a pensar que los niños siguen habitando en aquello que amaron y desearon, que nunca se fueron ni desaparecieron del todo. También me hace pensar en la inocencia de sus deseos y existencias. Pienso en Nadia, Alicia, Eduardo y Gabriel. Pienso en la importancia de no reducirlos a una cifra.
Reflexiono sobre el tiempo verbal de algunos poemas, como Alejandra, que “verá llegar la primavera”, o Samuel, que “quería averiguar y comprobar que la tierra era redonda”. En estos versos, hay un juego con lo que fueron y lo que podrían haber sido estos niños, lamentablemente ejecutados o desaparecidos durante la dictadura. Es crucial el papel del recuerdo, de humanizar esas largas listas de nombres que tantas veces hemos leído mecánicamente. Es estremecedor pensar que las mismas fantasías que uno imaginó de niño, otros jamás las podrán imaginar.
Ferrada trabaja con la memoria, invitándonos a no olvidar y a profundizar en ella. Me parece noble el gesto de darle vida eterna en estas páginas a quienes les fue arrebatada tan prematuramente. Este trabajo resuena con la labor de la Comisión Nacional de Verdad y Reconciliación, recordándonos lo esencial que es contar esta historia a nuestros estudiantes. Mostrarles que fue un periodo de crueldad tan extrema que hasta los niños fueron víctimas. Trabajar la memoria significa reconocer lo sucedido, llorar a los muertos y asegurarnos de que nunca vuelva a repetirse. Esto no solo debe abordarse en una clase de Historia, sino que trasciende todas las materias.
Quizás, al mencionar tantos elementos naturales, la autora nos invita a pensar que los niños siguen habitando en aquello que amaron y desearon, que nunca se fueron ni desaparecieron del todo. También me hace pensar en la inocencia de sus deseos y existencias. Pienso en Nadia, Alicia, Eduardo y Gabriel. Pienso en la importancia de no reducirlos a una cifra.
April 16, 2021
A few months ago, I reviewed a children’s book called Mexique that chronicled the story of a ship laden with children on a journey to escape the Spanish Civil War. Displaced in Mexico, few of those children ever returned home. In Ninos, author Maria Jose Ferrada moves to a different exploration of tragedy, penning a series of poems for 34 children killed in Pinochet’s military coup of Chile.
You may ask yourself why Ferrada insists on writing such depressing books for children. Where are the colors? Where is the fun? And even if we must remember and teach our history, why center the accounts of children? The answer is that children are important. The history books teach us that war is an adult’s game and only rarely tells us of the children or its impact on them. By centering the accounts of children, Ferrada is able to show readers—young and old—a different perspective.
Ninos: Poems for the Lost Children of Chile is exactly what the title says, commemorating by name the 34 children known to have been killed or displaced by the Pinochet dictatorship. The poems range from just a few lines to a page and are thoughtful, poignant, and literary. They are artistic poems, conceptual, and tie into each pages’ artwork—skillfully done by Maria Elena Valdez. For example, one poem is:
Paola
She saw an insect for the first time
She was so happy for the entire morning
her heart didn’t stop buzzing.
My struggle with this book is that I’m not clear on who the audience would be or how the book would be utilized. My best thought is that, if I was an upper elementary to early high school history teacher going through this period, I might use the poems for some form of assignment. But really, the book isn’t necessarily intended for an audience. It’s intended for the 34 lost children of Chile. It’s a book in their honor. To say that they were not forgotten. To say that they were valued. Any audience is secondary to that. And anyone who chooses to be the audience, who willfully enters into this reflective work, will find themselves contemplating the horror of war, the brutality of dictatorship, and the beautiful humanity of children.
You may ask yourself why Ferrada insists on writing such depressing books for children. Where are the colors? Where is the fun? And even if we must remember and teach our history, why center the accounts of children? The answer is that children are important. The history books teach us that war is an adult’s game and only rarely tells us of the children or its impact on them. By centering the accounts of children, Ferrada is able to show readers—young and old—a different perspective.
Ninos: Poems for the Lost Children of Chile is exactly what the title says, commemorating by name the 34 children known to have been killed or displaced by the Pinochet dictatorship. The poems range from just a few lines to a page and are thoughtful, poignant, and literary. They are artistic poems, conceptual, and tie into each pages’ artwork—skillfully done by Maria Elena Valdez. For example, one poem is:
Paola
She saw an insect for the first time
She was so happy for the entire morning
her heart didn’t stop buzzing.
My struggle with this book is that I’m not clear on who the audience would be or how the book would be utilized. My best thought is that, if I was an upper elementary to early high school history teacher going through this period, I might use the poems for some form of assignment. But really, the book isn’t necessarily intended for an audience. It’s intended for the 34 lost children of Chile. It’s a book in their honor. To say that they were not forgotten. To say that they were valued. Any audience is secondary to that. And anyone who chooses to be the audience, who willfully enters into this reflective work, will find themselves contemplating the horror of war, the brutality of dictatorship, and the beautiful humanity of children.
September 23, 2021
In Niños, María José Ferrada pays homage to “the lost children of Chile,” the thirty-four children under the age of fourteen among the thousands of people who were executed or “disappeared” during the seventeen-year military dictatorship of General Augusto Pinochet, which began in 1973. Ferrada’s short poems, translated from Spanish and each titled with a child’s name, imagine childhood experiences and connections to the natural world they might have enjoyed had they not been innocent victims of political violence. Each poem appears against the background of an emotive mixed-media illustration created in soft colors by María José Valdez. Back matter includes a list of the children and their ages at the time of their “disappearance” and the final poem, “Pablo,” with a note about Pablo Athansiu, who was included on the list until he was found alive in 2013. (Gr 6 Up)
February 7, 2023
"Niños" de María José Ferrada es una invitación a mirar el mundo a través de los niños. La curiosidad de los niños por el entorno y por cómo funciona se pone a girar en este poemario, donde cada girar de página es una nueva perspectiva.
Me gusta en especial los que tienen relación con la escritura, como Carmen que anota lo que ve en su cuaderno; o Hugo que rimará el clap clap de sus zapatos.
Pero también (o además) es una alarma y un recordatorio constante: Los 34 niños asesinados en dictadura. Esa curiosidad se vio cortada, esa forma de ser, esa forma de existir, tan noble, se cortó por los acontecimientos políticos. Se vieron en medio de un conflicto del cual no entendían nada y del que nada tenían que pagar. Aquel mundo único que solo habita en los niños se vio colapsado por la maldad de los adultos, que no logran verlo como estos 34 niños.
Me gusta en especial los que tienen relación con la escritura, como Carmen que anota lo que ve en su cuaderno; o Hugo que rimará el clap clap de sus zapatos.
Pero también (o además) es una alarma y un recordatorio constante: Los 34 niños asesinados en dictadura. Esa curiosidad se vio cortada, esa forma de ser, esa forma de existir, tan noble, se cortó por los acontecimientos políticos. Se vieron en medio de un conflicto del cual no entendían nada y del que nada tenían que pagar. Aquel mundo único que solo habita en los niños se vio colapsado por la maldad de los adultos, que no logran verlo como estos 34 niños.
March 22, 2024
This book is truly heart-wrenching! It contains a poem for each of the 34 children who were arrested and killed or went missing during the 1973-1990 dictatorship in Chile. Each poem, named after its respective child, describes everyday thoughts, feelings, and activities that are universally relatable to young readers. The pencil and watercolor illustrations reflect the collection's solemn overtones and create a sort of ghost motif. In or outside of the classroom, I think this book of poems is good for helping children reckon with difficult topics.
March 29, 2024
El libro que lee en un ratito, pero no deja de ser un ratito donde tienes el corazón en un puño cuando llegas al final de sus páginas. Vuelves a revisar algunos de las páginas. Es una forma magnífica de honrar la memoria de los más inocentes que tuvieron que vivir el horror y la barbarie del ser humano y la dictadura. María José Ferrada siempre tan sensible y delicada al tratar estos temas. María Elena Valdez aportando unas ilustraciones preciosas y cuidadas. Un libro que es incapaz de dejarte indiferente.
July 11, 2021
a beautiful and stirring group of poems dedicated to the 34 lost children chile from 1973.
there are gorgeous illustrations and words of what might have been for any child!
and one last poem, and update at the back, after the list of names!
(that I would have missed if not for having read the reviews here!)
there are gorgeous illustrations and words of what might have been for any child!
and one last poem, and update at the back, after the list of names!
(that I would have missed if not for having read the reviews here!)
November 20, 2021
During General Pinochet's dictatorship in Chile from 1973 to 1990, thousands of people had been killed, including 34 children under the age of fourteen. The book contains 34 poems, one dedicated to and inspired by each of those Chilean children.
Beautiful illustrations accompany somewhat abstract poems. Recommended for older (more mature) elementary grade students and middle grade students.
Beautiful illustrations accompany somewhat abstract poems. Recommended for older (more mature) elementary grade students and middle grade students.
November 16, 2020
Este libro es un bonito gesto, pero no es mucho más que eso.
Creo que la poesía de Ferrada desaprovecha las sensibilidades posibles frente a esta tragedia nacional y la experiencia infantil; terriblemente, creo que las simplifica al usar motivos básicos y comunes.
Creo que la poesía de Ferrada desaprovecha las sensibilidades posibles frente a esta tragedia nacional y la experiencia infantil; terriblemente, creo que las simplifica al usar motivos básicos y comunes.
May 25, 2021
I can't believe how hard it is to find literature on this subject. On the original 9/11. The 1973 Chilean coup, backed by the CIA. This needs to be in every classroom, on every shelf, in every country.
September 26, 2021
Beautifully illustrated collection of poetry written for the 34 children who were killed or disappeared during Pinochet's reign of terror. Poignant and haunting. If I could pair it with an adult book, I would select Isabel Allende's memoir Paula.
April 3, 2023
These poems were whimsical and lovely, and such a beautiful way to remember the children lost to the Pinochet regime. I loved how ethereal and sweet the illustrations for each poem were as well. Definitely recommend!
Content Warnings:
authoritarian regime, child death
Content Warnings:
authoritarian regime, child death
March 3, 2025
this was sad 34 little kids died. Two of them were only one to five years old I almost cried. when I told my mom I did cry. EVEN THOUGH THIS WAS SAD YOU SHOULD STILL READ IT🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲😨😭😭😭😭😭😭🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🤯😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡💀💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️
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December 13, 2020Recomiendo 100%
Imprescindible, necesario
Imprescindible, necesario
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