The Sign of the Seahorse

I spent an enjoyable few hours today at the "Friends of the Library" book sale. I ended up buying far too many books for fun, some classic and some random ones that I have vague pleasant associated memories with. I think my "treasure" for the day was The Sign of the Seahorse: A Tale of Greed and High Adventure in Two Acts by Graeme Base.
Graeme Base is also the author of Animalia and The Eleventh Hour, the latter of which is probably my favorite picture book. I love the story, the art, and the memories associated with it. The story is about an Elephant throwing an eleventh birthday party. It is a costume party, set to take place on the 11th. Horus (the Elephant) has invited eleven guests, planned eleven games, and baked eleven courses for the meal, including an eleven-layer birthday cake. However, there is a glitch in the plans. When Horus and his guests get to the banquet hall to have their feast, someone has stolen (eaten) all of the food and Horus must save the day with sandwiches and the cake which was hidden elsewhere.

The twist is that the words of the story do not reveal the culprit. However, the illustrations are rich, detailed, layered, and colorful, each containing multiple clues and codes. There are substitution ciphers, anagrams, riddles, and even morse code hidden in the borders of the illustrations, the cards the players are holding, the molding in the room being portrayed. The illustrations are fascinating with their level of detail, and hidden codes make them even more absorbing.

Finally, I have two different types of memories associated with this book. First, my dad and I spent hours together -- not consecutively, but at different times over the years -- with the two of us investigating and breaking the codes and riddles. The book reminds me of one of the ways I spent time with him. Secondly, my parents (at my request) planned for me an Eleventh Hour themed birthday party when I turned eleven, complete with eleven games (one of which was an obstacle-course relay race with eleven obstacles), eleven types of food for lunch that were then "stolen" by one of the guests whom my parents framed (with her previous knowledge), and an eleven-layer cake.

When I picture ideal children's birthday parties, I picture this type: Not a birthday party with a random theme, but a party with a theme that means something; not a party with fancy (and sometimes expensive) equipment, but a party that shows creativity with simple things; and finally, not a party with a huge number of children running around and attempting to make the child feel special because of the number of people celebrating, but a party with a few close friends, siblings, and family members (I THINK I remember correctly that I had nine guests and my siblings rounded out the number to 11).

And so today I found (and bought) The Sign of the Seahorse at the book sale. It was the most expensive book I bought (at $3, so that isn't saying much) and the book I was (am) most excited about. It is the one I read tonight before blogging and bed and tried to show my parents and sister over Skype video. The underwater setting is probably what ultimately sold it to me. And the "sign of the seahorse" the title refers to is a sea-horse-shaped treble-clef. Or a treble-clef-shaped sea horse. The story is as fun as I could hope, involving a love story, grouper mobsters, and a Catfish Gang,  and the mild condemnation of pollution remains mild and subtle rather than pushy or moralistic.

Published in 1992, The Sign of the Seahorse has been out since about the time I was working with my dad to try to solve The Eleventh Hour,  and it combines rolling rhymes and rhythms with lovely imaginative, elaborate, and intricate pictures of "soldier-crabs" with eight boots and one glove, Combat Lobster 46903, and henchfish "Sharks, with dubious IQs, / Who dressed in stovepipe trousers and wore pointy, two-tone shoes" (and is it sad that my first impulse after finishing typing the quote is to look for a page number so I can cite it properly? Unfortunately the pages are unnumbered and I am now actively resisting the urge to count them... ... ... I give up. Must... have... proper... MLA... citation! (Base 6)).

Odd compulsive habits aside, I'm glad I found it, glad I bought it, and glad I get to share my excitement about it somewhere.