The Cat Way by Sara Lundberg, translated by B.J. Woodstein

I will admit that on my first read, I didn’t like The Cat Way. I picked it up because the New York Public Library named it one of the Best Illustrated Children’s Books in 2024. The NYPL wasn’t wrong — Sara Lundberg’s gauche and watercolor illustrations are impressive. What put me off, at first, was the surreal nature of those illustrations and the alienating feeling that the book as a whole gave me. There’s a particularly unsettling page where strangers pet the narrator’s cat and their homuncular proportions made me want to close the book altogether.

But if you, like I, were so unsettled by this depiction that you resolved to close it and never turn another page, you would be missing out on something brilliant. The Cat Way is odd and distant. It’s also sublime. With each read, I understand it more. 

As with all children’s books, I try to understand how this story would read to a child. Which character is the child supposed to relate to? Are children supposed to learn anything? If so, what?

In The Cat Way, both the narrator and the cat are the child’s stand-in. To make my point, I must summarize:

The narrator and their cat take daily walks, mostly in an urban/suburban space. The narrator is always in charge and the two always walk the same route. Their walks are full of buildings and roads and sidewalks. One day, they come across another cat, whom the narrator’s cat plays with enthusiastically. Eventually our narrator scares off the other cat and their own cat demands to know why the narrator is always in charge.

A strange couple approach and pet the cat, who turns over and shows her belly in a way that surprises the narrator. Upset, the narrator walks away. They call for the cat to follow, but the cat doesn’t come. The narrator waits and waits until the seasons change. The narrator returns home but can’t get warm. They go to sit in a chair but the cat is already in it.! They embrace, and the next day, the cat is in charge of the walk. 

On that walk, the cat explores a wood they’ve never entered before. It’s colorful, full of life. The greenery takes up most of the illustrations, while the narrator stands in the background. The cat is much bigger in these spreads, taking up the foreground. Out of place, the narrator complains and asks how they will find their way home without a path. The two creep through underbrush together. Finally, the narrator gets fed up with the darkening sky and the mosquitoes. They fall and cry, grumbling. All they want to do is go home. The cat approaches them cautiously. When the cat climbs into their lap and purrs, the two look up and see a sky full of stars. On their walk home, the narrator announces they will once again be in charge of the walk again tomorrow. As the cat makes a face, the narrator says that the next day, the cat will be in charge. It seems they will take turns from now on.

It’s a mundane yet harrowing plot. Both characters face isolation and alienation on each other's preferred walking route. Both want to take charge of the walk. How out of place they each are in each other’s comfort zone! I think I finally understood the book when I connected the cat's question, "Why are you always in charge?" to my own experiences of being a child at the mall. My mom always chose the stores we went into and how long we stayed in them. My dad led me away from food courts and candy stores and germ-covered playplaces. Why did they always get to be in charge? To be a child is to have no say in where you go or how long you are there.

The narrator is also the child — when they let the cat lead, they are visibly uncomfortable and out of place. They ask questions that go unanswered ("Should we keep going, or what? ... How will we get home?"). They stumble, struggle in an environment not made for them, all while growing increasingly frustrated to the point of lashing out verbally: "Stupid cat!"

But when the cat connects with the narrator after this sullen outburst, the two find comfort in each other: "Things feel better now." A parent and a child reconnect. That's what I like about The Cat Way. Both characters are a stand-in for the child. Both characters are a stand-in for the adult. People can be both; childlike and petulant one minute, steamrolling and stubbornly in-charge the next. We can only hope that, like the narrator and the cat, we are able to reach out and reconnect, to empathize with each other long enough to recognize the out-of-place child within.

When the narrator and the cat reunite after the narrator's fall, they share a beautiful moment. The stars are out and the night sky is so full that it requires a gatefold. What a loud and quiet shock it is to go from steadily increasing frustration to a big wide night sky. It sure does the trick — making the conflict seem small and the moment feel so big that it shrinks all earlier frustration.

This starry moment and the gentle efforts to reach out to each other is enough for our two characters. On returning from this moment, the narrator and the cat's dynamic has changed. From now on, they'll take turns in each other's worlds. The endpapers show our narrator illustrating the very book we read while the cat curls up nearby.

You might read this review and say, "This feels very odd for a picture book. A bit meta. More quiet and thought-provoking that I expect from a book meant to be read aloud to elementary kids." I would agree — this book exudes a certain distance that I'm not used to. I would chalk that up to the book's origin — Sweden! It was originally published as Kattpromenaden. Art is a reflection and product of culture, so I'm not to surprised that The Cat Way feels different to me... I wonder how Swedish children came away from this book? What did they take away? And what do American children feel after reading it? I'll likely never know. But I can tell you how I feel — The Cat Way is worth at least two reads.

Book Info

• Title: The Cat Way

• Publisher: Eerdmans Books for Young Readers/Eerdmans

• ISBN: 9780802856333

• Author: Sara Lundberg

• Translator: B.J. Woodstein

• Illustrator: Sara Lundberg

• Pub date: Oct 2024

• Source: https://www.edelweiss.plus/?sku=0802856330&g=4400

For further analysis, I recommend the following reviews:

Betsy Bird, A Fuse #8 Production

"There’s a funny surreal quality to this story, while at the same time the emotions are so real to me. It’s both telling its own story straight, while also feeling like it’s talking about a lot more than just the relationship between a woman and her cat. The art is fantastic, I love the gatefold (a rare three-page gatefold, no less!) and the simplicity of the telling. GREAT work by translator B.J. Woodstein, by the way! It really gets the tone of the book down JUST right!"

Booklist

"A charming two-part story with a beautiful message about compromise and cooperation. . . . a book that will nurture creative minds of all ages and encourage them to imagine the possibilities under the starry night sky."

Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

"Stunning, saturated watercolor and gouache illustrations, in tandem with the thought-provoking text, translated from Swedish, chart the emotional journey of both human and cat as they discover that changing things up can result in fresh perspectives. A lovingly told exploration of compromise leading to a new outlook on life."