Smash

Though it may make some caregivers uncomfortable, smashing surely seems to be part of childhood. Bubble wrap, stacking cups, sand piles, bananas or playdough, it is hard to ignore the deeply human desire to “smash stuff”. In Adam Schafer’s Smash, we have a young child who explains it simply: “Smashing stuff is fun”. What follows is a graphic novel-esque romp through one child’s foray into destruction and renovation. Any toddler who enjoys a toppling block tower will be able to empathize.

Ultimately, our young protagonist (gender neutral) realizes that, while many skills are still out of reach (“I can’t read. I can’t draw. I can’t write. I can’t do anything…”) building stuff is available to them. Yes indeed, why smash things down when you can build them up? A hopeful final spread features a block-built park, awash in rainbow colors, being enjoyed by all.

Noel Tuazon’s animation background is well-matched with Schafer’s spare text. The images make good use of negative space to capture the movement of smashed blocks, swung bats and stacked blocks. Scratchy linework captures the fluidity of something smashed and something built. The introduction of color during the “building” section of the text makes clear to the reader that our protagonist has come to the conclusion that, while destruction might be lonely, building is a skill worth sharing.

For me, Schaefer’s conclusion came as a disappointment. While young children will rejoice in an exploration of smashing, and their caregivers will appreciate the turn to creation, the finality of being “done” smashing fell flat. I have never met a child so easily distracted from an irksome behavior toward a desirable one. Acknowledgment of our human tendency toward relapse would be well placed; perhaps a final spread featuring a few toppled blocks in the park and our protagonist saying, “I can build stuff… most of the time” …? My preschool teaching experience tells me: we are all capable of building things…most of the time. Nevertheless, I think Smash is an important addition to all toddler bookshelves, classroom ones particularly, where the problem of a smooshed project always looms large.