T.C. Robson -
A boy confused for a bouncing ball helps save a village from a disease of head-grown flowers and sour-puss attitudes. Awkward concept, but it surprisingly works.
ILIA's unique tale of Jack, a full-faced and -bodied kid and victim of quite a jab and insult in his small village, leads the child to a life of glutton after being cast out of his village and into the wilderness beyond. But an old man, witness to the birth of the Sad Situation, a sudden growth of odiferous flowers atop the villagers' heads, seeks the boy's assistance in finding the disease's cure. The unlikely duo head out from the village into the unknown in search of the antidote, encountering many an obstacle along the way. But will their efforts be enough to save the villagers?
There's good moral behind the story, but it seems a little weirdly emphasized. The first few pages are almost dedicated solely to the teasing and insulting poor Jack receives from the villagers, highlighting the cruelness of the villagers and the slim likelihood that Jack would ever put one pinky finger towards helping them. But I guess that is the moral...not do unto others as they do unto you, but rather do unto those with stinky flowers on their heads.
ILIA's unique tale of Jack, a full-faced and -bodied kid and victim of quite a jab and insult in his small village, leads the child to a life of glutton after being cast out of his village and into the wilderness beyond. But an old man, witness to the birth of the Sad Situation, a sudden growth of odiferous flowers atop the villagers' heads, seeks the boy's assistance in finding the disease's cure. The unlikely duo head out from the village into the unknown in search of the antidote, encountering many an obstacle along the way. But will their efforts be enough to save the villagers?
There's good moral behind the story, but it seems a little weirdly emphasized. The first few pages are almost dedicated solely to the teasing and insulting poor Jack receives from the villagers, highlighting the cruelness of the villagers and the slim likelihood that Jack would ever put one pinky finger towards helping them. But I guess that is the moral...not do unto others as they do unto you, but rather do unto those with stinky flowers on their heads.
