A Journey Through Grief and Remembrance: A Review of The Invisible Parade
When I first encountered The Invisible Parade, I was immediately drawn to the collaborative magic between Leigh Bardugo, a writer whose fantastical worlds have long captured my imagination, and John Picacio, a renowned illustrator whose art breathes life into stories. This blend of talented minds promised a unique experience, and upon finishing, I found myself wiping away tears, not just from the beauty of the story but from the poignant way it speaks to anyone who has faced the loss of a loved one.
At the heart of this tender narrative is Cala, a young girl navigating her grief after the passing of her grandfather. Through the vibrant and deeply cultural lens of Día de Muertos, we are invited to walk alongside her as she encounters four mysterious riders who teach her about courage and the enduring bonds of love. Though this is a picture book aimed at children, its emotional depth resonates universally. I couldn’t help but feel that even as a fifty-year-old grappling with my own heartbreaks, the story offered some solace—a reminder that grief is a journey we can share, irrespective of our age.
John Picacio’s illustrations are nothing short of mesmerizing. The combination of graphite sketches and digital color captures the essence of Día de Muertos, showcasing vibrant colors that speak to life and death in an artful dialogue. As I flipped through the pages, I found myself lost in each spread, discovering new details that I could easily envision hanging on my wall as art pieces. One of my favorite images depicts Cala directly interacting with the riders, and it sent chills down my spine, perfectly encapsulating the book’s mixture of beauty and sorrow.
One particularly haunting quote that stayed with me is, “Everyone knew somebody on the guest list… This was the day the dead returned.” It resonates on so many levels—reminding us that the loved ones we lose may feel far away, but on days of remembrance, they come back to us in dreams, stories, and cherished memories. Another moment that struck me was when Cala reflects, “Grandfather will never finish reading me his story… You must read it yourself,” said Death. This exchange not only underscores the urgency of sharing our stories but also highlights the important cultural practice of remembrance. It beautifully ties in with the themes of legacy and continuity—the idea that, although loss is painful, love persists.
Listening to the audiobook narrated by Diana Bustelo added yet another layer to this rich experience. Her soft and caring voice, paired with gentle music and sound effects, created an atmosphere of warmth that felt like a cozy embrace. It’s perfect for cozying up with a child, or even indulging in a quiet moment by yourself.
The Invisible Parade is an evocative exploration of grief and healing—a book that feels as relevant to the children who read it as it does to the adults who’ve experienced loss. I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone seeking comfort in the face of sorrow or wanting to introduce young readers to the complexities of grief in a gentle, compassionate way. It will remain one of my treasured reads of the year, a reminder of both the fragility and beauty of human connection.
In a world where loss is a universal experience, The Invisible Parade stands as a poignant testament to the love that remains. If you’re looking for a heartfelt, visually stunning reading experience that fosters introspection and remembrance, this book is an absolute must.