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Hablo como el río
«Mi padre me llevó al río para que me sintiera menos solo. Cuando lo señaló, me ofreció la imagen y las palabras para hablar de algo tan personal y doloroso. Al hacerlo, conectó mi tartamudeo con los movimientos de la naturaleza y me encantó ver mi boca moverse fuera de mí.»
¿Qué ocurre cuando las palabras se quedan atascadas y echan raíces dentro de tu boca cada vez que intentas hablar? «Me despierto cada mañana con los sonidos de las palabras a mi alrededor. Y no puedo pronunciarlas todas», nos cuenta el protagonista de esta historia. Un día, su padre lo recoge de la escuela, y juntos caminan por la orilla de un río, desde donde observan cómo el agua ondula, forma remolinos y choca contra las rocas. Allí, el pequeño descubre que ¡el río también tartamudea! No es una cura mágica, pero cuando las palabras se le presentan difíciles, solo tiene que pensar en la bravura del río para sentirse mejor.
Jordan Scott ha escrito, desde su propia experiencia, esta obra poderosa, con un lenguaje poético que destila autenticidad para describir lo que sienten los niños y niñas con tartamudez. Además de deleitar, este libro para primeros lectores permite identificar sentimientos como la soledad o la autoaceptación. Las magníficas acuarelas del multipremiado Sydney Smith envuelven al lector en un crisol de emociones: desde la ansiedad claustrofóbica de un aula hasta la belleza sobrecogedora de los destellos naturales sobre el agua mientras un padre ayuda a reconectar a su hijo con el mundo que lo rodea. Un álbum conmovedor para cualquier persona que alguna vez se haya sentido sola o simplemente diferente.
¿Qué ocurre cuando las palabras se quedan atascadas y echan raíces dentro de tu boca cada vez que intentas hablar? «Me despierto cada mañana con los sonidos de las palabras a mi alrededor. Y no puedo pronunciarlas todas», nos cuenta el protagonista de esta historia. Un día, su padre lo recoge de la escuela, y juntos caminan por la orilla de un río, desde donde observan cómo el agua ondula, forma remolinos y choca contra las rocas. Allí, el pequeño descubre que ¡el río también tartamudea! No es una cura mágica, pero cuando las palabras se le presentan difíciles, solo tiene que pensar en la bravura del río para sentirse mejor.
Jordan Scott ha escrito, desde su propia experiencia, esta obra poderosa, con un lenguaje poético que destila autenticidad para describir lo que sienten los niños y niñas con tartamudez. Además de deleitar, este libro para primeros lectores permite identificar sentimientos como la soledad o la autoaceptación. Las magníficas acuarelas del multipremiado Sydney Smith envuelven al lector en un crisol de emociones: desde la ansiedad claustrofóbica de un aula hasta la belleza sobrecogedora de los destellos naturales sobre el agua mientras un padre ayuda a reconectar a su hijo con el mundo que lo rodea. Un álbum conmovedor para cualquier persona que alguna vez se haya sentido sola o simplemente diferente.
44 pages, Hardcover
First published September 1, 2020
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July 28, 2022
A beautiful story-in-verse about a boy who “talks like a river”.
Written in first person, the story is narrated by a little boy who can’t pronounce some letters. They get stuck at the back of his throat, they grow roots inside his mouth, they just make him mumble instead of speak. This affects him a lot and he withdraws from his friends and sits at the back of his class. However, one day, his dad takes him out to the river and says, “You talk like the river.” Pondering over this makes the boy realise how the mighty river also struggles through its path at times. This connection with nature gives him tremendous strength to accept himself.
I liked how the book established a parallel between two seemingly unrelated ideas. The angst of the little boy comes out so clearly through the words and you feel for him as he struggles to push out the words from his mouth. The book doesn’t end with a miraculous solution but with a sense of hope.
The author’s note at the end reveals his own experience with stuttering and how his dad had correlated the communication issue with the river’s movements. This note is heartfelt and while kids might not understand it, adults ought to read it.
The illustrations are in water-colour style, apt for a book with the river as a central idea. The sketches don’t pop out of the page and are somewhat dark-hued. But they suit the tone of the story well. I am not sure if little readers would enjoy the slightly blurry effect on a few pages but those who appreciate art will see the beauty of the pages.
This would make a wonderful book for any child who feels he/she/they are alone in the problem of stuttering and are looking for a ray of hope. The official age range is 3-7 years but there are a few difficult words in the content so reading assistance will be required.
4 stars.
**Thank you for the lovely recommendation, Chantel!**
———————————————
Connect with me through:
My Blog | The StoryGraph | Facebook | Twitter
Written in first person, the story is narrated by a little boy who can’t pronounce some letters. They get stuck at the back of his throat, they grow roots inside his mouth, they just make him mumble instead of speak. This affects him a lot and he withdraws from his friends and sits at the back of his class. However, one day, his dad takes him out to the river and says, “You talk like the river.” Pondering over this makes the boy realise how the mighty river also struggles through its path at times. This connection with nature gives him tremendous strength to accept himself.
I liked how the book established a parallel between two seemingly unrelated ideas. The angst of the little boy comes out so clearly through the words and you feel for him as he struggles to push out the words from his mouth. The book doesn’t end with a miraculous solution but with a sense of hope.
The author’s note at the end reveals his own experience with stuttering and how his dad had correlated the communication issue with the river’s movements. This note is heartfelt and while kids might not understand it, adults ought to read it.
The illustrations are in water-colour style, apt for a book with the river as a central idea. The sketches don’t pop out of the page and are somewhat dark-hued. But they suit the tone of the story well. I am not sure if little readers would enjoy the slightly blurry effect on a few pages but those who appreciate art will see the beauty of the pages.
This would make a wonderful book for any child who feels he/she/they are alone in the problem of stuttering and are looking for a ray of hope. The official age range is 3-7 years but there are a few difficult words in the content so reading assistance will be required.
4 stars.
**Thank you for the lovely recommendation, Chantel!**
———————————————
Connect with me through:
My Blog | The StoryGraph | Facebook | Twitter
August 27, 2020
James Earl Jones stuttered. Marilyn Monroe stuttered. Joe Biden, Tim Gunn, Samuel L. Jackson, Kendrick Lamar, Nicole Kidman, the list goes on and on and on. Children’s books about stuttering? Thin on the ground. When you’re a children’s librarian, every interaction on the reader’s advisory desk can feel like a game of trivia. And if a child or parent comes up to you, asking for children’s books where a character stutters, or maybe just a picture book where stuttering is discussed, lord help you. Until the moment I Talk Like a River was introduced to me, the sole book for kids I would have been able to conjure up from memory would have been the Newbery Award winning middle grade novel Paperboy by Vince Vawter. A fine and worthy book, but not one that could claim to be all things to all people. If you wanted picture books with stutterers there are plenty of books out there with titles like Katie: The Little Girl Who Stuttered and Then Learned to Talk Fluently or Stuttering Stan Takes a Stand. Serviceable books with pointed reasons for existing. Not beautiful books. Not books that speak beyond themselves. Not, in short, I Talk Like a River. Deft poetic language pairs with the resonant watercolors of Sydney Smith to create a book that is more than a memoir and more than conveying a message. This is pain, turned into art, and written for young children. Incomparable.
“I wake up each morning with the sounds of words all around me.” It is one thing to know these words. To understand what these sounds are. It is another thing entirely to speak them. The boy explains that certain letters in particular can give him trouble. For example, the “P” in “pine tree” might grow “roots inside my mouth and tangles my tongue.” “C” and “M” fare little better. On this day, the boy is called to speak in front of the class. By the time his dad picks him up after school, it’s been a “bad speech day”. The two walk along the river and in time his dad tells him that the river’s rolling, breaking, bubbling habits are like his son’s. His son talks like a river. It’s not a magic cure, but it helps. Now, when the boy has trouble, he thinks of it. After all, “Even the river stutters. Like I do.”
Purposeful picture books are picture books with jobs to do. They focus on a specific need and then go out there to meet that need with all the delicacy of a drill sergeant on the line. These are message books. They exist so that parents, desperate to show their children that they aren’t alone in the world, will have something to show them. Whether the books are about a jailed parent, peanut allergies, or even, say, a stutter, they are not built for beauty. You can’t really blame them for that. We didn’t invent them back in the 17th century to be pretty, after all. But, you see, that’s why it’s important to keep a sharp eye out for books that take a little time to break away from this mold. Jordan Scott’s words are the first indicator in I Talk Like a River that there is more going on here than representation. To read this book is to listen to Scott list and categorize words. I read this book not knowing it was a book about stuttering. I’m kind of sad that I’ve stolen that same surprise from those of you reading this review because if you walk into this book cold, without any context (the cover and title aren’t giving anything away) then you will get to these lines and not understand: “I wake up each morning with the sounds of words all around me. And I can’t say them all.” This is the introduction to the stuttering. The word “stutter” does not appear once in the picture book text, but the descriptions of what stuttering feels like ring true.
According to a note in the back, Jordan Scott’s father really did say that young Jordan’s stuttering was like the river. Or, rather, he said, “You see how that water moves, son? That’s how you speak.” Part of what makes Scott’s comparison between a stuttering mouth and a river so sharp is the fact that it’s not a perfect pairing. You can tell someone they leap like a frog and that’s a pretty straightforward one-to-one comparison there. But to say that someone speaks like a large, moving body of water demands a little something extra from the listeners. The dad in this book isn’t trying to come up with the perfect equivalent to stuttering. He’s working with what he has, and what he has before him is a river. It just so happens that the imperfection in the comparison makes it absolutely perfect.
I like to read Sydney Smith books partly to see what he does on any given page and partly to see what he doesn’t do. What an artist paints is almost as interesting as what an artist makes sure not to paint. Take, for example, that first shot of the classroom when our narrator says, “At school I hide at the back of the class. I hope I don’t have to talk. When my teacher asks me a question, all my classmates turn and look.” The page on the left is a half page image of a teacher at the front of a class. The teacher’s face is indistinct, but the paints used for this image are placed in cool, clear lines. The picture on the opposite side, taking up the whole page, is an image of all the classmates turned towards you, the reader. You are in the narrator’s shoes, and their faces too are blurred. But there’s more going on here than just that, isn’t there? The edges of the room have grown indistinct. The paints are fuzzy, almost resembling mold, and the colors have dimmed and dulled. You stare at that picture and the sheer levels of discomfort the boy is feeling come off of the page in waves. It’s a claustrophobic image, and a nightmare scene for any kid who has ever wanted to avoid being seen in this way. The image is what Smith has decided to include, but it works because what seemed so clear before has now been taken away from you.
And right now I want to pull out that old phrase, “I don’t know how he does it,” to describe Smith’s art. The statement is literally true, but sounds so hackneyed and overused. Yet how on earth do you draw the reflective nature of a river? How do you make some parts of that river seem closer and others farther? How do you use thick paints to show the wake behind a duck’s body on that water and even though there’s nothing photorealistic about it, the duck and the river and the wake all look 100% real? Or what about the next page where the setting sun (this is an autumnal time of year so that sun’s on the move) peeks at you from behind a tree and you wince when you look at it, readers. Honest-to-goodness you wince. Because somehow a mix of white and yellow pigment convinced you, if only for a second, into believing that you were looking at distant incandescent plasma. I could, at this point, write entire novels about the way in which Smith paints light through ears and earlobes, but I’ll spare you. For now.
Shared amongst friends recently, one person I read this book with wondered whether or not it would be of any interest to children. Does I Talk Like a River have sufficient child appeal? Regardless of how you feel about this particular book, that’s a pretty good question to ask yourself on a regular basis when you’re judging works for children. If the book in your hands only pleases adults over the age of 25, something’s gone wrong. So when I reread the book all by myself, I tried to see what about it that could appeal to kids. Obviously kids with stutters would like it, but what about kids that don’t? Yet let’s go back to some of those other points we were discussing. The lyricism in the language. The art in the paintings. That Author’s Note at the back called “How I Speak” might be something you eschew for most young people, but I think Scott nails the child-appeal angle. I don’t care what kid you are. When there’s something that makes you stick out from the crowd, something you don’t like about yourself, and then an entire classroom of heads turns your way, you’re gonna identify with that feeling.
I wonder when picture books first started to market themselves directly to consumers with medical or personal difficulties? Some publishers have whole imprints dedicated to producing such books. This book’s publisher would not fall into that category, and yet it has produced a work of beauty that also happens to have a purpose. It builds empathy with stutterers, but might I offer a suggestion? If a teacher or librarian has a child in their class who stutters, I pray that they do not read this book by preceding it with a statement like, “Now THIS book is about stuttering, just like Josh over there. Josh, you’re going to LOVE this!” It’s going to happen. There’s no avoiding it. But hopefully in most cases the teacher/librarian will ease it into the reading without making a big show about it. Because taken in the right vein, at the right time, for the right reasons, I Talk Like a River could make a significant difference in a kid’s life. Or an adult’s. Or pretty much anyone’s. It’s just that good.
For ages 4-7.
“I wake up each morning with the sounds of words all around me.” It is one thing to know these words. To understand what these sounds are. It is another thing entirely to speak them. The boy explains that certain letters in particular can give him trouble. For example, the “P” in “pine tree” might grow “roots inside my mouth and tangles my tongue.” “C” and “M” fare little better. On this day, the boy is called to speak in front of the class. By the time his dad picks him up after school, it’s been a “bad speech day”. The two walk along the river and in time his dad tells him that the river’s rolling, breaking, bubbling habits are like his son’s. His son talks like a river. It’s not a magic cure, but it helps. Now, when the boy has trouble, he thinks of it. After all, “Even the river stutters. Like I do.”
Purposeful picture books are picture books with jobs to do. They focus on a specific need and then go out there to meet that need with all the delicacy of a drill sergeant on the line. These are message books. They exist so that parents, desperate to show their children that they aren’t alone in the world, will have something to show them. Whether the books are about a jailed parent, peanut allergies, or even, say, a stutter, they are not built for beauty. You can’t really blame them for that. We didn’t invent them back in the 17th century to be pretty, after all. But, you see, that’s why it’s important to keep a sharp eye out for books that take a little time to break away from this mold. Jordan Scott’s words are the first indicator in I Talk Like a River that there is more going on here than representation. To read this book is to listen to Scott list and categorize words. I read this book not knowing it was a book about stuttering. I’m kind of sad that I’ve stolen that same surprise from those of you reading this review because if you walk into this book cold, without any context (the cover and title aren’t giving anything away) then you will get to these lines and not understand: “I wake up each morning with the sounds of words all around me. And I can’t say them all.” This is the introduction to the stuttering. The word “stutter” does not appear once in the picture book text, but the descriptions of what stuttering feels like ring true.
According to a note in the back, Jordan Scott’s father really did say that young Jordan’s stuttering was like the river. Or, rather, he said, “You see how that water moves, son? That’s how you speak.” Part of what makes Scott’s comparison between a stuttering mouth and a river so sharp is the fact that it’s not a perfect pairing. You can tell someone they leap like a frog and that’s a pretty straightforward one-to-one comparison there. But to say that someone speaks like a large, moving body of water demands a little something extra from the listeners. The dad in this book isn’t trying to come up with the perfect equivalent to stuttering. He’s working with what he has, and what he has before him is a river. It just so happens that the imperfection in the comparison makes it absolutely perfect.
I like to read Sydney Smith books partly to see what he does on any given page and partly to see what he doesn’t do. What an artist paints is almost as interesting as what an artist makes sure not to paint. Take, for example, that first shot of the classroom when our narrator says, “At school I hide at the back of the class. I hope I don’t have to talk. When my teacher asks me a question, all my classmates turn and look.” The page on the left is a half page image of a teacher at the front of a class. The teacher’s face is indistinct, but the paints used for this image are placed in cool, clear lines. The picture on the opposite side, taking up the whole page, is an image of all the classmates turned towards you, the reader. You are in the narrator’s shoes, and their faces too are blurred. But there’s more going on here than just that, isn’t there? The edges of the room have grown indistinct. The paints are fuzzy, almost resembling mold, and the colors have dimmed and dulled. You stare at that picture and the sheer levels of discomfort the boy is feeling come off of the page in waves. It’s a claustrophobic image, and a nightmare scene for any kid who has ever wanted to avoid being seen in this way. The image is what Smith has decided to include, but it works because what seemed so clear before has now been taken away from you.
And right now I want to pull out that old phrase, “I don’t know how he does it,” to describe Smith’s art. The statement is literally true, but sounds so hackneyed and overused. Yet how on earth do you draw the reflective nature of a river? How do you make some parts of that river seem closer and others farther? How do you use thick paints to show the wake behind a duck’s body on that water and even though there’s nothing photorealistic about it, the duck and the river and the wake all look 100% real? Or what about the next page where the setting sun (this is an autumnal time of year so that sun’s on the move) peeks at you from behind a tree and you wince when you look at it, readers. Honest-to-goodness you wince. Because somehow a mix of white and yellow pigment convinced you, if only for a second, into believing that you were looking at distant incandescent plasma. I could, at this point, write entire novels about the way in which Smith paints light through ears and earlobes, but I’ll spare you. For now.
Shared amongst friends recently, one person I read this book with wondered whether or not it would be of any interest to children. Does I Talk Like a River have sufficient child appeal? Regardless of how you feel about this particular book, that’s a pretty good question to ask yourself on a regular basis when you’re judging works for children. If the book in your hands only pleases adults over the age of 25, something’s gone wrong. So when I reread the book all by myself, I tried to see what about it that could appeal to kids. Obviously kids with stutters would like it, but what about kids that don’t? Yet let’s go back to some of those other points we were discussing. The lyricism in the language. The art in the paintings. That Author’s Note at the back called “How I Speak” might be something you eschew for most young people, but I think Scott nails the child-appeal angle. I don’t care what kid you are. When there’s something that makes you stick out from the crowd, something you don’t like about yourself, and then an entire classroom of heads turns your way, you’re gonna identify with that feeling.
I wonder when picture books first started to market themselves directly to consumers with medical or personal difficulties? Some publishers have whole imprints dedicated to producing such books. This book’s publisher would not fall into that category, and yet it has produced a work of beauty that also happens to have a purpose. It builds empathy with stutterers, but might I offer a suggestion? If a teacher or librarian has a child in their class who stutters, I pray that they do not read this book by preceding it with a statement like, “Now THIS book is about stuttering, just like Josh over there. Josh, you’re going to LOVE this!” It’s going to happen. There’s no avoiding it. But hopefully in most cases the teacher/librarian will ease it into the reading without making a big show about it. Because taken in the right vein, at the right time, for the right reasons, I Talk Like a River could make a significant difference in a kid’s life. Or an adult’s. Or pretty much anyone’s. It’s just that good.
For ages 4-7.
December 20, 2020
The language in this book. The unfolding of the words and the images. The illustrations. The way it serves to show us that the narrator talks like a river as they stutter and also that we are all like the river in some way, never on a smooth, "fluent," "perfect," path, but one that churns, bubbles, whirls, crashes as it flows.
From the afterward by the author: "The river is a natural and patient form, forever making its way toward something greater than itself. Yet as the river moves, it stutters, and I do too."
From the afterward by the author: "The river is a natural and patient form, forever making its way toward something greater than itself. Yet as the river moves, it stutters, and I do too."
March 24, 2021
“I wake up each morning with the sounds of words all around me.”
I both read this (initially because I am a fan of the illustrator, Sydney Smith) and listened to it. This is a lovely book about a kid (who was actually Jordan Scott, the author) who grows up stuttering. Poetic, lyrical, capturing the pain, the social isolation, and also his coming to terms with who he is with some acceptance.
Jordan Scott's reading of the book is poignant, and probably even important if you are a kid who stutters.
"The river is a natural and patient form, forever making its way toward something greater than itself. Yet as the river moves, it stutters, and I do too."
Here's the story read and shared on YouTube:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWN3k...
I both read this (initially because I am a fan of the illustrator, Sydney Smith) and listened to it. This is a lovely book about a kid (who was actually Jordan Scott, the author) who grows up stuttering. Poetic, lyrical, capturing the pain, the social isolation, and also his coming to terms with who he is with some acceptance.
Jordan Scott's reading of the book is poignant, and probably even important if you are a kid who stutters.
"The river is a natural and patient form, forever making its way toward something greater than itself. Yet as the river moves, it stutters, and I do too."
Here's the story read and shared on YouTube:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWN3k...
November 7, 2021
An audiobook so bewilderingly beautiful; enthrallingly touching & tender, I am humbled, appreciative & mesmerized by Scott's writing, the metaphors & the reality which is explored in this story.
Read
October 18, 2021Een beeldschoon prentenboek dat op een poëtische manier vertelt over stotteren. We zijn onder de indruk van de illustraties van Sydney Smith in onze 53ste aflevering van De Grote Vriendelijke Podcast. Luister nu via Spotify, je podcast-app of https://www.degrotevriendelijkepodcas...
August 27, 2025
If you saw a fully grown adult sitting criss-cross applesauce on the carpet in the kids’ section of the public library, reading a picture book... that was me.
Run don't walk to go read this children's picture book about a boy who has a stutter, and his father bringing him to a river and telling him his speech sounds just like it. Canadian poet Jordan Scott has SUCH a way with words (and I evidently don't because I chose to praise this book with that trite sentence). The story is from Scott's own childhood struggles with stuttering, and I am in awe that he became a poet. Read this for yourself, read it to your kids, and read it for the author's full story on the last page. Here is one line:
"But at the river, I learned to think differently about fluency. The river has a mouth, a confluence, a flow. The river is a natural and patient form, forever making its way toward something greater than itself. Yet as the river moves, it stutters, and I do too."
The art-style from Sydney Smith is delightful, it's effervescent and precious. I Talk Like a River is a 40 page work of art that inexplicably made my throat tight with emotion. I am heartened to know that children these days have books like these to help them through similar challenges, as well as to normalize and build understanding towards all sorts of people in this world.
(go check out the NYT review of this book)
Run don't walk to go read this children's picture book about a boy who has a stutter, and his father bringing him to a river and telling him his speech sounds just like it. Canadian poet Jordan Scott has SUCH a way with words (and I evidently don't because I chose to praise this book with that trite sentence). The story is from Scott's own childhood struggles with stuttering, and I am in awe that he became a poet. Read this for yourself, read it to your kids, and read it for the author's full story on the last page. Here is one line:
"But at the river, I learned to think differently about fluency. The river has a mouth, a confluence, a flow. The river is a natural and patient form, forever making its way toward something greater than itself. Yet as the river moves, it stutters, and I do too."
The art-style from Sydney Smith is delightful, it's effervescent and precious. I Talk Like a River is a 40 page work of art that inexplicably made my throat tight with emotion. I am heartened to know that children these days have books like these to help them through similar challenges, as well as to normalize and build understanding towards all sorts of people in this world.
(go check out the NYT review of this book)
February 13, 2021
A boy wakes up each day “with the sounds of words all around,” but he cannot smoothly form and express those words. At school, his struggles lead to anxiety so debilitating that he needs to be picked up by a parent.
The boy’s dad understands that “It’s just a bad speech day.” They go to the river to walk quietly and look at the “bubbling, churning, whirling, and crashing” water. With his dad’s help, the boy realizes that his speech is like a river as it works its way to “where the water is smooth and glistening.”
I Talk Like a River is one of the most impactful picture books I’ve ever seen. Jordan Scott’s precise description of the physical and emotional aspects of stuttering meld with Sydney Smith’s hauntingly impressionistic water colors to create powerful empathy and understanding for and about speech dysfluency. This picture book transcends that classification to become an important, rewarding reading experience for any age.
The boy’s dad understands that “It’s just a bad speech day.” They go to the river to walk quietly and look at the “bubbling, churning, whirling, and crashing” water. With his dad’s help, the boy realizes that his speech is like a river as it works its way to “where the water is smooth and glistening.”
I Talk Like a River is one of the most impactful picture books I’ve ever seen. Jordan Scott’s precise description of the physical and emotional aspects of stuttering meld with Sydney Smith’s hauntingly impressionistic water colors to create powerful empathy and understanding for and about speech dysfluency. This picture book transcends that classification to become an important, rewarding reading experience for any age.
January 11, 2021
Beautiful! What a great thing to say for someone who has a stutter: I Talk Like A River. 24 Years and I still absolutely hate my stutter but that phrase let's me see a little beauty behind it. I love it.
November 27, 2020
Yes, we need a book about a boy who stutters (rare in books for youth) and how he copes and gets support from his father, but this story is also for those that feel lonely, isolated, bullied, or all of the above. Stunning art and poetry. I'll be buying this for my home library.
September 19, 2021
“Mijn vader nam me mee naar de rivier zodat ik me minder alleen voelde.”
Schrijft auteur Jordan Scott in het nawoord van het bijzondere prentenboek Ik praat als een rivier. Scotts jeugd werd beïnvloed door zijn stotteren. Op sommige dagen – ‘slechte praatdagen’ – deed zijn mond het helemaal niet meer, was elk woord was pijnlijk en was vooral het gelach van zijn klasgenoten ondraaglijk. Zijn vader nam hem dan mee naar de rivier. Het samen naar de rivier gaan, vormde de inspiratiebron voor het prentenboek dat voor mij ligt; Ik praat als een rivier, met illustraties van Sydney Smith. Een boek dat de lezer zal raken.
Lees verder op www.booksandmacchiatos.com!
Schrijft auteur Jordan Scott in het nawoord van het bijzondere prentenboek Ik praat als een rivier. Scotts jeugd werd beïnvloed door zijn stotteren. Op sommige dagen – ‘slechte praatdagen’ – deed zijn mond het helemaal niet meer, was elk woord was pijnlijk en was vooral het gelach van zijn klasgenoten ondraaglijk. Zijn vader nam hem dan mee naar de rivier. Het samen naar de rivier gaan, vormde de inspiratiebron voor het prentenboek dat voor mij ligt; Ik praat als een rivier, met illustraties van Sydney Smith. Een boek dat de lezer zal raken.
Lees verder op www.booksandmacchiatos.com!
November 19, 2022
Ik praat als een rivier is een autobiografisch prentenboek (8+) van Jordan Scott over zijn stotteren als kind en de herinneringen aan zijn vader. De tekst leest bijna als poëzie, de beelden zijn prachtig! Een verhaal waar ik op het eind toch even een traan moest wegknipperen...
Het boek won een zilveren griffel dit jaar.
Voor een inkijkje: https://www.instagram.com/p/ClY3xhUoMw3/
Het boek won een zilveren griffel dit jaar.
'Elke ochtend
word ik wakker
met overal om me heen
de geluiden van woorden.
De d van dennenboom
buiten het slaapkamerraam.
De k van kraai daar tussen
de takken.
De m van de maan die in de
ochtendhemel verbleekt.
Elke ochtend word ik wakker
met de geluiden van woorden
overal om me heen.
En ik kan ze niet allemaal
zeggen.'
Voor een inkijkje: https://www.instagram.com/p/ClY3xhUoMw3/
Read
October 29, 2020Absolutely gorgeous in every way.
August 16, 2021
Baseado na experiência do poeta Jordan Scott, esta é a história comovente de um menino que gagueja. Um livro intimista e poético. Um livro para quem se sente diferente, solitário ou incapaz de se integrar. As ilustrações expressivas, numa articulação plena com o texto, transformam o livro num objeto de arte sublime.
[Resumo da responsabilidade do Plano Nacional de Leitura 2027]
ISBN:
978-989-564-542-8
ASSUNTOS:
Distúrbios da fala nas crianças -- [Contos infantis]
CDU:
087.5-053.5
82-34
159.946
Livro recomendado PNL2027 - 2021 1.º Sem. - Literatura - dos 9-11 anos - dos 12-14 anos - Mediana
[Resumo da responsabilidade do Plano Nacional de Leitura 2027]
ISBN:
978-989-564-542-8
ASSUNTOS:
Distúrbios da fala nas crianças -- [Contos infantis]
CDU:
087.5-053.5
82-34
159.946
Livro recomendado PNL2027 - 2021 1.º Sem. - Literatura - dos 9-11 anos - dos 12-14 anos - Mediana
April 23, 2021
Powerful, emotional, eye opening, empathetic. This is a wonderfully written book about the author's journey in life with stuttering. The water color illustrations are rich and evoke emotion. The love and the encouragement from his father to persevere, help this main character be confident and accept himself. A beautiful story of the power of love. Highly recommend to those who are struggling with a disability.
Find I Talk Like a River at the Westminster Public Library today!
And if you are in search of new books to read, try our services, What Do I Read Next. Our library staff are standing by to create a personalized recommendation list for you!
Find I Talk Like a River at the Westminster Public Library today!
And if you are in search of new books to read, try our services, What Do I Read Next. Our library staff are standing by to create a personalized recommendation list for you!
January 7, 2021
One to share widely!
July 30, 2021
Der Junge auf dem Buchcover steht im schäumenden Wasser und blickt nach unten. Sein Blick und seine Körperhaltung wirken bedrückt, er scheint dem Wasser nicht zu trauen. Wenn Jordan Smiths Icherzähler morgens aufsteht, ist niemand außer ihm zu sehen, auch hier signalisiert die Körperhaltung eine bedrückte Stimmung. Der Junge ist von Wörtern umgeben für vertraute Dinge, die er jedoch oft nicht aussprechen kann, weil in seinem Mund Buchstaben sonderbare Dinge tun, die er nicht steuern kann. Der Junge stottert. In der Schule hofft der Junge, dass der Lehrer ihn nicht ansprechen wird. Die Gesichter der Mitschüler bleiben leere Flächen, er selbst wird ihnen auch eine leere Fläche zeigen, wenn er nicht mit ihnen sprechen kann. Der Vater des Jungen spürt, dass ein Sohn an diesem Tag niedergeschlagener sein muss als sonst schon und fährt mit ihm an den Fluss. Sie schweigen gemeinsam, bis der Vater auf den Fluss hinweist. „Du bist wie der Fluss“, sagt er, du sprichst wie drängelndes, sprudelndes Wasser. Ein Fluss muss nicht brausen und dröhnen, er kann auch ruhig sein. Keine Kritik, keine Ratschläge, der Vater nimmt seinen Sohn an, wie er ist. Vater und Sohn können gemeinsam schweigen.
Im Nachwort erfahren Jordan Scotts Leser, dass er seine Geschichte und die seines Vaters hier erzählt. Jordan Scott ist der Fluss …
Ein Bilderbuch über eine Sprachstörung für Kinder ab 5, das wenig Worte macht und viel Raum für Empathie lässt.
Im Nachwort erfahren Jordan Scotts Leser, dass er seine Geschichte und die seines Vaters hier erzählt. Jordan Scott ist der Fluss …
Ein Bilderbuch über eine Sprachstörung für Kinder ab 5, das wenig Worte macht und viel Raum für Empathie lässt.
January 16, 2023
Leesjury groep 2
December 4, 2022
Do yourself a favor and listen to the audiobook read by the author. My SLP heart was overjoyed by this book. 💗
December 8, 2021
A truly beautiful read. The text changes its format throughout the story, however this complements the images incredibly well - Switching from close ups of the boy to viewing him from afar. We follow the journey of a boy with a stutter, facing the fear and humiliation of his words becoming trapped infront of his class.
I love how this book compares a struggle to nature, learning to find beauty and therefore empowerment as a result. We see confidence begin to grow at the end of this story.
I find it effective how we don't always see the facial expressions of the characters through the gorgeous illustrations. It is often only in the close ups where as readers, we are encouraged to look at and interpret how they are feeling. The rest of the time, it can often be implied through the text.
Many cross - Curricular opportunities here
After reading it again, still amazed by this book, the language, the imagery and the impact of the authors note. So much to explore in this book
I love how this book compares a struggle to nature, learning to find beauty and therefore empowerment as a result. We see confidence begin to grow at the end of this story.
I find it effective how we don't always see the facial expressions of the characters through the gorgeous illustrations. It is often only in the close ups where as readers, we are encouraged to look at and interpret how they are feeling. The rest of the time, it can often be implied through the text.
Many cross - Curricular opportunities here
After reading it again, still amazed by this book, the language, the imagery and the impact of the authors note. So much to explore in this book
February 8, 2022
A boy struggles to speak and prefers to remain silent. His father pointing to the river tells him, “See how that water moves? That’s how you speak.” He stutters. The river flows but bubbles, crashes, and whirls. To stutter is to be dysfluent. Poet Jordan Scott created this book about his own experiences. Loved the cover and four-page spread illustrations and metaphor.
March 14, 2021
Altı yıldız olsaydı altı yıldız verirdim. Beni çok etkiledi bir bütün olarak. Jordan Scott'u ilk defa okuyorum, Kanadalı bir şairmiş. Kendi kekemelik deneyiminden çıkmış bu kitap. Sydney Smith'i Şehirdeki Küçük'ten biliyorum; bol ödüllü bir yazar & çizer, hatta o kitabın çevirmeni de Günce Özmen'di. Gonca Özmen'e hakikaten hayran kaldım, bir şairin kaleme aldığı 'çocuk' kitabını böyle temiz, etkileyici biçimde aktardığı için. Bence her kütüphanede olması gereken bir kitap. Kolay kolay unutulmayacaklardan.
March 24, 2021
Özel çocuklara özel oldukları daima hatırlatılmalı. 🕊️
June 2, 2023
I stumbled across I Talk Like a River while searching for inclusion books written in the last 5 years on Google, and I watched a reading of it on YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c6AvV...). I Talk Like a River has been nominated for the Kate Greenaway Medal (2022), the Odyssey Award (2022), the Governor General's Literary Awards / Prix littéraires du Gouverneur général Nominee for Young People's Literature- Illustrated Books (English-language) (2020), and has won the Schneider Family Book Award for Young Children (2021).
I Talk Like a River details two days in the life of a young, unnamed protagonist who struggles with stuttering. He begins his story by vividly describing what it’s like for him to speak the consonantal sounds ‘P,’ ‘C,’ and ‘M.’ He also details what it’s like to be called on in class, expressing the fear he experiences at having to form words in front of his peers, and how isolated he feels in class. After school, his father picks him up and the two go to the river together. There, his father tells him that he speaks like the river - his words crash and churn and break just like the rushing rapids. The boy then realizes that the river eventually becomes a pool of smooth, clear waters - just as his own stutter eventually becomes smooth, clear speech. The book ends the next day as our protagonist finds his voice, and is able to tell the class about his favorite place in the world - the river.
I decided to review this book for my inclusion title because I am torn about how I feel about the story. On the one hand, this is a beautifully written and illustrated book. I love how writer Jordan Scott (who himself struggled with a stutter) places the protagonist's disability at the center of the story. There is no narrative erasure of the boy's disability in this book - from the beginning of the story we know that he has difficulty forming spoken words. Instead, using vivid and, quite frankly, beautiful language, Scott gives us an authentic account of the boy’s lived experience with his stutter. This does lead to a book that has an overall more melancholic tone than the other picturebooks I have read - but I think this tone helps to underscore the protagonist’s experience and feelings living with a speech impediment. The book does end on a more positive note, but even this brief reprieve still carries an emotional weight consistent with the overall narrative.
The artwork in the picturebook is gorgeous, and I think it only adds to the emotional weight and insight of the narrative. There are many two page spreads throughout the book, some of which make use of negative space in a way that speak to the isolation and loneliness the boy experiences. There is even a striking image early in the book that depicts the boy, but with crows and roots superimposed over his face. Somehow, artist Sydney Smith uses this image to visually convey how the boy feels as words are trapped in his mouth.
Full disclosure - I had an entire “on the other hand” argument ready to go, but as I wrote about the various things I loved about the book, I found my own “on the other hand” arguments resolving themselves. I considered changing my review to omit the setup for a critique, but I decided to keep it intact as I think it demonstrates the transformative nature of writing about a text. In exploring a book on the discussion boards or on Goodreads, I think we discover new aspects of the narrative we may never have considered. I was going to discuss how I found a nameless protagonist to be a kind of narrative erasure. However, as I wrote the review, I began to realize that this might have been done so any child reading the story could imagine themselves as the protagonist. By not giving him a name, readers are free to almost become the protagonist, and to make the same realizations that their speech might also be like a river - churning along until it finally becomes “smooth and glistening.” I also realized that despite not having a name, the protagonist is the narrator, and is given full autonomy to tell his own story. This is very much the opposite of the picturebooks (My Pal, Victor and Susan Laughs) described in “Just Like Me, Just Like You: Narrative Erasure as Disability Normalization in Children’s Picture Books.” As Tanja Aho and Grit Alter state, the characters depicted in those books are “discursively located in inferior positions as both do not speak themselves, but are spoken for and about” (p. 7). In other words, the characters’ autonomy is stolen, essentially converting them into objects for the (presumably) able bodied narrator to discuss. This, in my opinion, completely strips the narrative of any sense of an authentic lived experience, and instead places the depiction of disability under an ableist lens.
So - in short - I rescind my “on the other hand” comments (I also changed my initial 4-star rating to a 5 star rating). While I wouldn’t suggest that this is the greatest depiction of the struggle of stuttering there is, it is a powerful, authentic reading experience. I also appreciate that it doesn’t handle the character or the subject matter with “kiddie gloves.” The book instead allows the protagonist/narrator to explain in vivid detail exactly what having a stutter feels like and how it impacts him socially and emotionally. This alone makes the book a wonderful sliding glass door. The way Scott explains how it feels to stutter left me with some understanding of what having a stutter might physically feel like - almost as if I was experiencing it myself. As I suggested above, this book does a great job of inviting the reader in and allowing them to experience the protagonist’s struggle in an authentic manner. I also think this book makes a great mirror as it is a genuine and authentic experience. The fact that it is written by an ‘insider’ heightens the overall emotional impact of the story, but it also gives our students not just a character that is like them, but a poet and author that also reflects their lived experiences.
I Talk Like a River details two days in the life of a young, unnamed protagonist who struggles with stuttering. He begins his story by vividly describing what it’s like for him to speak the consonantal sounds ‘P,’ ‘C,’ and ‘M.’ He also details what it’s like to be called on in class, expressing the fear he experiences at having to form words in front of his peers, and how isolated he feels in class. After school, his father picks him up and the two go to the river together. There, his father tells him that he speaks like the river - his words crash and churn and break just like the rushing rapids. The boy then realizes that the river eventually becomes a pool of smooth, clear waters - just as his own stutter eventually becomes smooth, clear speech. The book ends the next day as our protagonist finds his voice, and is able to tell the class about his favorite place in the world - the river.
I decided to review this book for my inclusion title because I am torn about how I feel about the story. On the one hand, this is a beautifully written and illustrated book. I love how writer Jordan Scott (who himself struggled with a stutter) places the protagonist's disability at the center of the story. There is no narrative erasure of the boy's disability in this book - from the beginning of the story we know that he has difficulty forming spoken words. Instead, using vivid and, quite frankly, beautiful language, Scott gives us an authentic account of the boy’s lived experience with his stutter. This does lead to a book that has an overall more melancholic tone than the other picturebooks I have read - but I think this tone helps to underscore the protagonist’s experience and feelings living with a speech impediment. The book does end on a more positive note, but even this brief reprieve still carries an emotional weight consistent with the overall narrative.
The artwork in the picturebook is gorgeous, and I think it only adds to the emotional weight and insight of the narrative. There are many two page spreads throughout the book, some of which make use of negative space in a way that speak to the isolation and loneliness the boy experiences. There is even a striking image early in the book that depicts the boy, but with crows and roots superimposed over his face. Somehow, artist Sydney Smith uses this image to visually convey how the boy feels as words are trapped in his mouth.
Full disclosure - I had an entire “on the other hand” argument ready to go, but as I wrote about the various things I loved about the book, I found my own “on the other hand” arguments resolving themselves. I considered changing my review to omit the setup for a critique, but I decided to keep it intact as I think it demonstrates the transformative nature of writing about a text. In exploring a book on the discussion boards or on Goodreads, I think we discover new aspects of the narrative we may never have considered. I was going to discuss how I found a nameless protagonist to be a kind of narrative erasure. However, as I wrote the review, I began to realize that this might have been done so any child reading the story could imagine themselves as the protagonist. By not giving him a name, readers are free to almost become the protagonist, and to make the same realizations that their speech might also be like a river - churning along until it finally becomes “smooth and glistening.” I also realized that despite not having a name, the protagonist is the narrator, and is given full autonomy to tell his own story. This is very much the opposite of the picturebooks (My Pal, Victor and Susan Laughs) described in “Just Like Me, Just Like You: Narrative Erasure as Disability Normalization in Children’s Picture Books.” As Tanja Aho and Grit Alter state, the characters depicted in those books are “discursively located in inferior positions as both do not speak themselves, but are spoken for and about” (p. 7). In other words, the characters’ autonomy is stolen, essentially converting them into objects for the (presumably) able bodied narrator to discuss. This, in my opinion, completely strips the narrative of any sense of an authentic lived experience, and instead places the depiction of disability under an ableist lens.
So - in short - I rescind my “on the other hand” comments (I also changed my initial 4-star rating to a 5 star rating). While I wouldn’t suggest that this is the greatest depiction of the struggle of stuttering there is, it is a powerful, authentic reading experience. I also appreciate that it doesn’t handle the character or the subject matter with “kiddie gloves.” The book instead allows the protagonist/narrator to explain in vivid detail exactly what having a stutter feels like and how it impacts him socially and emotionally. This alone makes the book a wonderful sliding glass door. The way Scott explains how it feels to stutter left me with some understanding of what having a stutter might physically feel like - almost as if I was experiencing it myself. As I suggested above, this book does a great job of inviting the reader in and allowing them to experience the protagonist’s struggle in an authentic manner. I also think this book makes a great mirror as it is a genuine and authentic experience. The fact that it is written by an ‘insider’ heightens the overall emotional impact of the story, but it also gives our students not just a character that is like them, but a poet and author that also reflects their lived experiences.
April 10, 2022
Harika bir kitap! Çizimleri çok güzel. İşlediği konu ise mükemmel.
Hediye eden arkadaşlarım İrem Nur ve Hilye Melis'e çok teşekkür ederim 💗
Hediye eden arkadaşlarım İrem Nur ve Hilye Melis'e çok teşekkür ederim 💗
March 13, 2026
"Det blåser upp en storm i mitt bröst
och mina ögon fylls av regn. /.../
Jag ser på vattnet hur det bubblar, virvlar, fräser och stänker.
Pappa säger att jag talar som en flod."
Fint språk, fin illustration.
och mina ögon fylls av regn. /.../
Jag ser på vattnet hur det bubblar, virvlar, fräser och stänker.
Pappa säger att jag talar som en flod."
Fint språk, fin illustration.
Read
July 3, 2026大推這本的有聲書！
March 10, 2021
This is a beautiful book about a child who stutters, his feelings, and how his Dad gives him a picture for all he's feeling. The final page, author's note is so beautiful.
November 14, 2020
A boy. A river. A stutter. A bubbling, whirling, churning and crashing cacophony. I Talk Like A River is yet another masterpiece from illustrator Sydney Smith whose deeply resonating illustrations orchestrate wholly within and around Jordan Scott's deeply personal, powerful poem.
With words and lines interspersed between close-up frames and double-page spreads, we follow one boy on his journey to try and overcome or at least, be at one with, his stutter. Scott's poem, much like Smith's paintings, are of two halves. In one half, the day seems calm and collected and yet as the realisation of school dawns, so the stress and the meter of poem begins to build and stutter: mirrored by Smith's blurred, tense illustrations and stark use of frames within frames. Freedom and imprisonment through words then is the theme of the first half of the story here.
Asked to speak in front of the whole class, the boys closes in and his world loses focus from the pressure and humiliation. It is only later, when his father takes him for a drive to the forest, that he finds time to be calm. On the water's edge, his father points out that his son's stutter and the river share much in common. The words in his head might be hard to say because they also, at times, 'bubble and 'churn' and 'whirl' and 'crash'. Rather than let the fear of his stutter drown him, the boy begins to realise that he must be at one with it because just as the river can move rapidly, so it can also be calm and smooth.
Descending into the river, the boy has an epiphany; a spiritual awakening of sorts where he realises that he is not alone and that he need only close his eyes and 'see' the river to find that inner peace and acceptance. In doing so, the world becomes less threatening and scary.
It goes without saying that the book is a work of art in and of itself. Smith has clearly worked so tirelessly on not just giving space to Scott's words but thinking carefully about how his visual and spiritual world can work alongside them: the central gatefold is a masterstroke.
Finally, it is worth noting that Scott, who is a performing poet, has a stutter and went through much of what our protagonist did. Yet he sees the 'terrifying beauty' in his stutter now and embraces it when he recites his poems. Do seek his work out on YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwoNt...
With words and lines interspersed between close-up frames and double-page spreads, we follow one boy on his journey to try and overcome or at least, be at one with, his stutter. Scott's poem, much like Smith's paintings, are of two halves. In one half, the day seems calm and collected and yet as the realisation of school dawns, so the stress and the meter of poem begins to build and stutter: mirrored by Smith's blurred, tense illustrations and stark use of frames within frames. Freedom and imprisonment through words then is the theme of the first half of the story here.
Asked to speak in front of the whole class, the boys closes in and his world loses focus from the pressure and humiliation. It is only later, when his father takes him for a drive to the forest, that he finds time to be calm. On the water's edge, his father points out that his son's stutter and the river share much in common. The words in his head might be hard to say because they also, at times, 'bubble and 'churn' and 'whirl' and 'crash'. Rather than let the fear of his stutter drown him, the boy begins to realise that he must be at one with it because just as the river can move rapidly, so it can also be calm and smooth.
Descending into the river, the boy has an epiphany; a spiritual awakening of sorts where he realises that he is not alone and that he need only close his eyes and 'see' the river to find that inner peace and acceptance. In doing so, the world becomes less threatening and scary.
It goes without saying that the book is a work of art in and of itself. Smith has clearly worked so tirelessly on not just giving space to Scott's words but thinking carefully about how his visual and spiritual world can work alongside them: the central gatefold is a masterstroke.
Finally, it is worth noting that Scott, who is a performing poet, has a stutter and went through much of what our protagonist did. Yet he sees the 'terrifying beauty' in his stutter now and embraces it when he recites his poems. Do seek his work out on YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwoNt...
March 25, 2021
3.5 out of 5
I Talk Like a River is a very poetic, lyrical, and evocative picturebook memoir about what it feels like to grow up with a stutter.
I could literally feel the words get stuck in my mouth or the entire class looking and laughing at me.
Jordan Scott's beautiful autobiographical poem is coupled with equally beautiful, evocative illustrations by Sydney Smith. As always, a spectacular use of light (just look at that cover!):
I Talk Like a River is a very poetic, lyrical, and evocative picturebook memoir about what it feels like to grow up with a stutter.
“The P
in pine tree
grows roots
inside my mouth
and tangles
my tongue.
The C is a crow
that sticks
in the back
of my throat.
The M in moon
dusts my lips
with a magic
that makes me
only mumble.”
I could literally feel the words get stuck in my mouth or the entire class looking and laughing at me.
"I feel a storm in my belly;
my eyes fill with rain.”
Jordan Scott's beautiful autobiographical poem is coupled with equally beautiful, evocative illustrations by Sydney Smith. As always, a spectacular use of light (just look at that cover!):
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