The Man Who Walked Between the Towers: (Caldecott Medal Winner)

by Mordicai Gerstein, Mordicai Gerstein (Illustrator)

Overview

The story of a daring tightrope walk between skyscrapers, as seen in Robert Zemeckis's The Walk, starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

In 1974, French aerialist Philippe Petit threw a tightrope between the two towers of the World Trade Center and spent an hour walking, dancing, and performing high-wire tricks a quarter mile in the sky. This picture book captures the poetry and magic of the event with a poetry of its own: lyrical words and lovely paintings that present the detail, daring, and--in two dramatic foldout spreads-- the vertiginous drama of Petit's feat.

The Man Who Walked Between the Towers is the winner of the Caldecott Medal, winner of the Boston Globe - Horn Book Award for Picture Books, and winner of the Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Children's Video.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780312368784
Publisher:	Square Fish
Publication date:	04/17/2007
Edition description:	Reprint
Pages:	44
Sales rank:	95,537
Product dimensions:	8.06(w) x 11.00(h) x 0.12(d)
Lexile:	AD640L (what's this?)
Age Range:	5 - 8 Years

About the Author

Mordicai Gerstein (1935-2019) is the author and illustrator of The Man Who Walked Between the Towers, winner of the Caldecott Medal, and has had many books named New York Times Best Illustrated Books of the Year.

Gerstein was born in Los Angeles in 1935. He remembers being inspired as a child by images of fine art, which his mother cut out of Life magazine, and by children’s books from the library: “I looked at Rembrandt and Superman, Matisse and Bugs Bunny, and began to make my own pictures.” He attended Chouinard Art Institute in Los Angeles, and then got a job in an animated cartoon studio that sent him to New York, where he designed characters and thought up ideas for TV commercials. When a writer named Elizabeth Levy asked him to illustrate a humorous mystery story about two girls and a dog, his book career began, and soon he moved on to writing as well as illustrating.

The author of more than forty books, Gerstein lived in Westhampton, Massachusetts.

Mordicai Gerstein (1935-2019) is the author and illustrator of The Man Who Walked Between the Towers, winner of the Caldecott Medal, and has had many books named New York Times Best Illustrated Books of the Year.

Gerstein was born in Los Angeles in 1935. He remembers being inspired as a child by images of fine art, which his mother cut out of Life magazine, and by children’s books from the library: “I looked at Rembrandt and Superman, Matisse and Bugs Bunny, and began to make my own pictures.” He attended Chouinard Art Institute in Los Angeles, and then got a job in an animated cartoon studio that sent him to New York, where he designed characters and thought up ideas for TV commercials. When a writer named Elizabeth Levy asked him to illustrate a humorous mystery story about two girls and a dog, his book career began, and soon he moved on to writing as well as illustrating.

The author of more than forty books, Gerstein lived in Westhampton, Massachusetts.

Hometown:

Northhampton, Massachusetts

Date of Birth:

November 25, 1935

Place of Birth:

Los Angeles, California

Education:

Chouinard Institute of Art

Website:

http://www.mordicaigerstein.com

Editorial Reviews

“Gerstein's dramatic paintings include some perspectives bound to take any reader's breath away. Truly affecting.” —Publishers Weekly (Starred Review)

“Readers of all ages will return to this again and again for its history, adventure, humor, and breathtaking homage to extraordinary buildings and a remarkable man.” —Kirkus Reviews (Starred Review)

“With its graceful majesty and mythic overtones, this unique and uplifting book is at once a portrait of a larger-than-life individual and a memorial to the towers and the lives associated with them.” —School Library Journal (Starred Review)

From the Publisher

Gerstein's ink and oil paintings of that "joyful morning" aren't for anyone with a fear of heights; the perspectives are dizzying enough to make the strongest stomach lurch. — Elizabeth Ward

The Washington Post

This effectively spare, lyrical account chronicles Philippe Petit's tightrope walk between Manhattan's World Trade Center towers in 1974. Gerstein (What Charlie Heard) begins the book like a fairy tale, "Once there were two towers side by side. They were each a quarter of a mile high... The tallest buildings in New York City." The author casts the French aerialist and street performer as the hero: "A young man saw them rise into the sky.... He loved to walk and dance on a rope he tied between two trees." As the man makes his way across the rope from one tree to the other, the towers loom in the background. When Philippe gazes at the twin buildings, he looks "not at the towers but at the space between them.... What a wonderful place to stretch a rope; a wire on which to walk." Disguised as construction workers, he and a friend haul a 440-pound reel of cable and other materials onto the roof of the south tower. How Philippe and his pals hang the cable over the 140-feet distance is in itself a fascinating-and harrowing-story, charted in a series of vertical and horizontal ink and oil panels. An inventive foldout tracking Philippe's progress across the wire offers dizzying views of the city below; a turn of the page transforms readers' vantage point into a vertical view of the feat from street level. When police race to the top of one tower's roof, threatening arrest, Philippe moves back and forth between the towers ("As long as he stayed on the wire he was free"). Gerstein's dramatic paintings include some perspectives bound to take any reader's breath away. Truly affecting is the book's final painting of the imagined imprint of the towers, now existing "in memory"-linked by Philippe and his high wire. Ages 5-8. (Sept.) Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.

Publishers Weekly

K-Gr 6-In 1974, a young Frenchman saw the completion of the World Trade Center towers as an irresistible invitation to stretch a cable between them and dance across it. Gorgeous oil-and-ink paintings capture the aerialist's spirited feat and breathtaking perspectives high above Manhattan harbor. Winner of the 2004 Caldecott Medal. Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

School Library Journal

A spare recounting of Philippe Petit's daring 1974 wire walk between the Twin Towers depicts him as a street performer who defies authority to risk his feat, is arrested, and then sentenced to perform for the children of New York. At the conclusion, on the only non-illustrated page are the stark words, "Now the towers are gone," followed by the changed skyline and finally by a skyline on which are etched the ghost-like shapes of the towers as memory of the buildings and of Petit's exploit. At the heart are the spreads of Petit on the narrow wire, so far above the city that Earth's curve is visible. Two ingenious gatefolds draw readers' eyes into the vertiginous sweep of wirewalker-sky and city below. Unparalleled use of perspective and line-architectural verticals opposed to the curve of wires and earth-underscore disequilibrium and freedom. In a story that's all about balance, the illustrations display it exquisitely in composition. Readers of all ages will return to this again and again for its history, adventure, humor, and breathtaking homage to extraordinary buildings and a remarkable man. (Picture book/nonfiction. 5+)

Kirkus Reviews

In 1974, Philippe Petit, a French aerialist and street performer, disguised himself as a construction worker and shot a strong wire from one tower of the World Trade Center to the other. In a death-defying dance, Petit crossed the 140 feet between the towers, a quarter of a mile above New York City. Petit was arrested and sentenced to perform for children in the parks. Gerstein’s reading is congenial and disarming. His images are spare yet lyrical, magical and poetic; his performance, completely engaging. His understated delivery captures Petit’s playful nature, his delight in imagining himself in the space between the towers, and his satisfaction at achieving the impossible. The closing somber words, “Now the towers are gone,” create an indelible memory, part joy, part grief. S.J.H. © AudioFile 2005, Portland, Maine

OCT/NOV 05 - AudioFile