Book-Object as Narrative Device in Children’s Literature

by Daniel Kondo

This essay argues that, in contemporary children’s literature, the book-object can operate as a narrative device, producing meaning through materiality, pacing, sequence, and the reader’s physical act of turning pages.

Introduction

Children’s picture books are often discussed in terms of illustration, text, or theme. Far less attention is given to the book itself as a narrative system. This page argues that, in certain contemporary works, the book-object is not a neutral container of meaning but an active narrative device. Materiality, pacing, sequence, and physical manipulation operate as structural elements of storytelling.

Drawing from practice-based research as an author, illustrator, and designer of book-objects, my work is grounded in the assumption that narrative in children’s literature can be produced not only through words and images, but through the orchestration of the book’s physical form. In this perspective, design decisions are not auxiliary to storytelling; they constitute its narrative structure.

From Illustration to Narrative Structure

In conventional picture books, illustration is often understood as a visual translation of a pre-existing text. In book-object practices, this hierarchy collapses. Text, image, and material form are conceived simultaneously, each contributing to narrative meaning.

Elements traditionally considered secondary — page turns, silence, scale, rhythm, and negative space — become narrative operators. The reader does not simply decode a story; the reader performs it through the physical act of reading.

This shift challenges the conventional view of illustration as a supplementary layer, reframing the book itself as the primary site where narrative meaning is constructed.

Materiality as Meaning

Paper weight, binding, color progression, and printing choices are not decorative decisions. They establish tempo, tension, and expectation. Thick paper can slow down reading. Sparse spreads can generate suspense. Repetition of formats can create rhythm, while sudden disruptions produce narrative rupture.

In children’s literature, these strategies are particularly potent. Young readers experience stories through their bodies as much as through cognition. The tactile and temporal dimensions of the book shape comprehension and emotional engagement.

The Page Turn as Narrative Engine

The page turn is one of the most underestimated narrative devices in literature. It creates anticipation, delay, surprise, and revelation. In book-object narratives, the page turn functions analogously to montage in cinema or enjambment in poetry.

By controlling what is hidden and what is revealed, the author designs not only what the reader sees, but when and how meaning emerges.

Silence, Space, and Absence

Silence is rarely discussed in relation to children’s books. Yet silence — produced by empty space, minimal text, or visual pause — is a powerful narrative force. It allows readers to project, imagine, and participate.

Absence is not lack. It is invitation. In this sense, book-object narratives resist didacticism and embrace interpretative openness.

Case Studies from My Practice

Across my published works, these principles recur. Books are conceived as reading machines, where narrative emerges from interaction rather than exposition. The physical design dictates rhythm, attention, and emotional arc.

Rather than illustrating stories, these books construct them through material decisions. Meaning arises in the interval between pages, in the friction between expectation and surprise.

Book-Object and Children’s Literature Today

The resurgence of book-object experimentation in children’s literature reflects a broader cultural need to slow down reading in an accelerated digital environment. These works demand presence, attention, and embodied reading.

They also challenge institutional distinctions between literature, design, and visual art. The book-object occupies a hybrid territory, where theory and practice converge.

Conclusion

To understand certain contemporary picture books, it is no longer sufficient to analyze text and image alone. The book itself must be read as narrative structure.

In this sense, the book-object is not an aesthetic variation but a theoretical proposition: that storytelling can be materially constructed, and that meaning can be designed through form, sequence, and physical experience.

This perspective reframes children’s literature as a field where narrative theory, design, and material culture intersect — and where the act of reading becomes a form of participation.