César Chávez: A Hero for Everyone


author: Gary Soto
illustrator: Lori Lohstoeter
Aladdin, 2003
grades 3-up
Mexican American

Soto’s narrative begins in 1962, as young organizer César Chávez and other recruiters walk from house to house in Corcoran, California, explaining to Mexican-American agricultural workers about a new union that would help them in their desperate need for justice. As a farm worker himself, Chávez knows that Corcoran is a dangerous place for seasonal workers—he knows that contractors often steal their hard-earned money, and he knows that “strikers had been beaten and shot and sometimes killed by armed farmers.”

The narrative then turns back to the beginnings of Chávez’s early life on his grandparents’ large homesteaded farm, where the whole family works together in tough Depression-era times. And school is far from welcoming for Spanish-speaking children—“all Cesar would remember of school was the whistling of the ruler as it came down on his wrist or knuckles.” Indeed, during his years as a young farm worker, Chávez’s experiences with poverty, injustice and racism are what shape him into the organizer he later becomes.

When the family, hungry and broke, is forced to leave their farm, young readers will see what young César and the other migrant agricultural workers have to endure; and as the narrative progresses, Chávez’s development as an organizer:

[The farm workers] had to wake up before dawn. They had to work stooped over for ten hours. They had to breathe in pesticides that stayed on leaves. There were no toilets. There was no clean water to drink. There were no rest breaks. Their whole day was just hard labor.

As Soto describes how César Chávez develops from inexperienced organizer of local Chicano workers to leader of the fledgling National Farm Workers Association, to joining with the Filipino compañeros of the Agricultural Workers Organizing Committee, to convincing the workers to adopt a tactic of nonviolence while engaging in the “fights in the fields,” to leading the 300-mile peregrinación from Delano to Sacramento, to the shouts of “¡Que viva la huelga!” and “¡Sí, se puede!” that were heard around the world, young readers will come to understand the life and work of a man of courage, humility and strength who fought for the rights of some of the most exploited workers in the US.

As a child, Soto worked the fields of the San Joaquin Valley; and currently serves as a Young People’s Ambassador for California Rural Legal Assistance and the United Farm Workers of America. He’s a brilliant and prolific storyteller whose knowledge and experience shine in this small biography of “a hero for everyone.”

Although this series, called “Milestone Books,” is designed for easy reading, the vocabulary is not oversimplified and the text does not condescend. Unfortunately, the book is printed on cheap “mass-market” paper and Lohstoeter’s black-and-white illustrations are less than engaging. Nevertheless, Soto’s evocative book can be paired with Carmen Bernier-Grand’s César: ¡Sí, Se puede! Yes, We Can! and Kathleen Krull’s Harvesting Hope: The Story of Cesar Chavez. All three are highly recommended.

—Beverly Slapin
(published 12/27/13)

Children's Books about César Chávez: Telling or Showing?


Many reviewers of books for young readers give a free pass to the often-oversimplified narratives and illustrations that constitute pictorial biographies. I have seen and heard, more often than not, comments to the effect that these are “just” for children and therefore, should not contain more than brief chronologies of events. It is my firm belief, however, that young children who are challenged to think deeply are capable of understanding complex issues and responding positively. Values such as “empathy,” “honesty,” “kindness,” “respect” and “fairness,” among others, can be encouraged early on if they are modeled in life—and shown in picture books.

I use the word “shown” because one of my other firm beliefs is that children shown how to think are more likely—than are those who are “told” only what to think—to develop into critical readers and thinkers, children who will apply what they have learned to their lives.

To illustrate how some picture books “show” and others “tell,” let’s look at a pair of excerpts, each from the introduction to a picture book about César Chávez. Following the excerpts are my comments.

Excerpt 1:  

As a child, Cesar Chavez traveled with his family from one farm to the next to pick beans, broccoli, lettuce, and other crops. After a day in the fields, his back often ached. His hands were sore. Yet Chavez and others who helped put food on Americans’ tables often had no tables of their own, no real homes. Later, Cesar Chavez would lead the fight for better pay, working conditions, and health care for families such as his.[1]

Excerpt 2:

¡Híjole!
Who could tell?

Who could tell
that Cesario Estrada Chávez,
the shy American
wearing a checkered shirt,
walking with a cane to ease his back
from the burden of the fields,
could organize so many people
to march for La Causa, The Cause!

Who could tell
that he with a soft pan dulce voice,
hair the color of mesquite,
and downcast, Aztec eyes,
would have the courage to speak up
for the campesinos
to get better pay,
better housing,
better health?

¡Híjole!
Who could tell?[2]

Comments: While Excerpt 1 implies that César Chávez was born poor, that he had no real home, and that he was not American, Excerpt 2 makes no such implications.[3] While Excerpt 1 dispassionately tells young readers that “after a day in the fields, his back often ached” and “his hands were sore,” Excerpt 2 shows them the effects of a lifetime of difficult labor: “walking with a cane to ease his back/ from the burden of the fields.” While Excerpt 2 shows young readers how César Chávez belonged to the land and the culture (“shy American,” “hair the color of mesquite,” “soft pan dulce voice,” and “downcast Aztec eyes”), Excerpt 1 does not.

Now, here are some more excerpts from picture books about César Chávez, including the ones we’ve already examined. Each excerpt below either “shows” or “tells” about an aspect of his life. In each category: Which ones carry stated or unstated assumptions that “tell” children what to think? Which ones “show” or gently lead children into understanding? Which ones are more likely to engage child readers? Which ones are more likely to encourage empathy in child readers?


Early Childhood

Facts: As a young child, Cesario Chávez lived with his large extended family on an 80-acre ranch, where the family produced all that they needed, not only for a comfortable life, but also to stock their grocery store and feed homeless people who happened by. Cesario and his siblings were raised on the dichos of their mother, the examples of their father, and the stories of their grandparents—and lots of love. He later wrote, “I had more happy moments as a child than unhappy moments.”


Cesar Chavez was born in 1927 near Yuma, Arizona. His family had a grocery store and a farm. Cesar was born in a little room over the grocery store.[4]

Everyone in the Chavez family worked on their farm. Cesar’s father planted seeds in the dirt. He hoed away the weeds. He dug ditches to bring water from the river to the farm. Without water, the crops could not grow. Cesar and Richard fed the horses, cows, and chickens. They gathered eggs. Rita washed clothes by hand. Juana made tortillas from ground corn. Their family was poor.[5]

Cesar woke up early each morning and did the usual farm chores. He carried water from the nearby canal, fed the animals, and gathered eggs. Then he went to school.[6]

Until Cesar Chavez was ten, every summer night was like a fiesta. Relatives swarmed onto the ranch for barbeques with watermelon, lemonade, and fresh corn. Cesar and his brothers, sisters, and cousins settled down to sleep outside, under netting to keep mosquitoes out. But who could sleep—with uncles and aunts singing, spinning ghost stories, and telling magical tales of life back in Mexico? Cesar thought the whole world belonged to his family. The eighty acres of their ranch were an island in the shimmering Arizona desert, and the starry skies were all their own.[7] 


Family

Facts: Cesario’s extended family was huge: Besides grandparents, parents, sisters and brothers, there were aunts, uncles and cousins. These loving role models were always around. From his father, he learned the value of honest work, however hard—and the inequities of the farm labor system. From his mother, he learned the value of compassion and the importance of caring for poor and homeless people. From his grandparents, aunts and uncles, he learned about faith, the history of his people, and how to read in Spanish.

Cesar’s father was often too busy to spend time with his family. It was Cesar’s mom who kept them together. She told her children stories. She taught them values and many proverbs, such as “What you do to others, others do to you.”[8]

At night, Cesar watched his father make toy cars from tin cans and small pieces of wood. Cesar and his brothers played with their cars on the floor. At bedtime, their grandmother listened to the children’s prayers.[9]

(Librado) taught César
how to make cars
out of sardine cans
and tractors
out of spools of thread….
Tugged at César’s ears
and patted his head….
(Juana) often spoke to César in dichos,
taught him from the Bible.
“What does the Lord require of you,
but to do justice,
to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?”
Hated violence.
“God gave you senses,
like your eyes, and mind, and tongue
and you can get out of everything.”
Gave César manzanilla tea,
and hugged him tight.[10]

Until Cesar Chavez was ten, every summer night was like a fiesta. Relatives swarmed onto the ranch for barbeques with watermelon, lemonade, and fresh corn. Cesar and his brothers, sisters, and cousins settled down to sleep outside, under netting to keep mosquitoes out. But who could sleep—with uncles and aunts singing, spinning ghost stories, and telling magical tales of life back in Mexico?[11] 

César learned from his parents. His mother told him many stories that taught about the importance of helping the poor and not being violent. César’s grandmother also taught him how to believe in God and the teachings of the Catholic Church. César’s uncle taught him to read in Spanish.[12]


School

Facts: School was a horrible time for young Cesario. Here is where his name was changed to “Cesar,” and he was taught that all that he learned from his family was worthless; that he was “less than” because he spoke, read and wrote in Spanish. The usual punishment for young César and his Spanish-speaking friends was humiliation—and to have the Spanish beaten out of them. Needless to say, he hated school. But he remained, learning to speak, read and write English, and learning the other skills that would serve him later in life. César was the first in his family to graduate from eighth grade.

The teacher told the children to speak English. Speaking English was hard. Everyone spoke Spanish at home. Many times, Cesar forgot to speak English. Then the teachers hit his fingers with a ruler.[13]

The Chavez family spoke Spanish at home; but in school, whenever Cesar spoke Spanish, his teacher hit him. “It’s a terrible thing,” he later said, “when you have your own language and customs, and those are shattered.”[14]

School was an unwelcoming place. He wasn’t allowed to speak Spanish, the family’s household language. In fact speaking it brought on punishment. All Cesar would remember of school was the whistling of the ruler as it came down on his wrist or knuckles.[15]

Once, after Cesar broke the rule about speaking English at all times, a teacher hung a sign on him that read, I AM A CLOWN. I SPEAK SPANISH. He came to hate school because of the conflicts, though he liked to learn.[16]

One word in Spanish,
 just one word,
and ¡Fuii! whistled the ruler
across César’s knuckles
its edge cutting sharply.
The teacher hung a sign
around his neck:
“I am a clown.
I speak Spanish.”
“If you’re an American,”
 she said,
“speak only in English.
If you want to speak in Spanish,
go back to Mexico.”[17]

In 1992, I worked with an ad hoc group of Bay Area parents, students, school workers and community activists. Together, we gave our skills and life experiences to a project that evaluated a set of history and social studies textbooks with a collective eye on giving our diverse community’s children what they needed to survive and thrive.[18] The insidious message with the focus of these textbooks, as we stated, was this: “In order for some children to be proud of their histories, other children must be made ashamed of theirs.” We went on to say, “We have to teach (all our children) who they are, where they came from, and how they can change the world.”

It’s not enough for children to be told the facts. Children need to be shown to see the colors, hear the music, sniff the air, taste the food, touch the trees and feel the emotions. ¡Sí, se puede!

—Beverly Slapin
(published 12/8/13)



[1] David A. Adler and Michael S. Adler, A Picture Book of Cesar Chavez, illustrated by Marie Olofsdotter. Holiday House, 2010.

[2] Carmen T. Bernier-Grand, César: ¡Sí, Se puede! Yes, We Can!, illustrated by David Diaz. Marshall Cavendish, 2004.

[3] In fact, young César and his family lived in a spacious adobe house that his grandfather had built many years earlier. As Kathleen Krul writes, “Cesar thought the whole world belonged to his family. The eighty acres of their ranch were an island in the shimmering Arizona desert, and the starry skies were all their own.” It wasn’t until César was ten years old, when the Great Depression hit, that the Chávez family joined hundreds of thousands fleeing to California to seek itinerant work.

[4] Susan Eddy, Cesar Chavez. Children’s Press, 2003.

[5] Ginger Wadsworth, Cesar Chavez, illustrated by Mark Schroder. Lerner, 2004.

[6] Adler, op. cit.

[7] Kathleen Krull, Harvesting Hope: The Story of Cesar Chavez, illustrated by Yuyi Morales. Harcourt, 2003.

[8] Adler, op. cit.

[9] Wadsworth, op. cit.

[10] Bernier-Grand, op. cit.

[11] Krull, op. cit.

[12] Richard Griswold del Castillo, César Chávez: The Struggle for Justice / La lucha por la justicia, illustrated by Anthony Accardo. Piñata Books, 2002.

[13] Wadsworth, op. cit.

[14] Adler, op. cit.

[15] Gary Soto, Cesar Chavez: A Hero for Everyone, illustrated by Lori Lohstoeter. Aladdin, 2003.

[16] Krull, op. cit.

[17] Bernier-Grand, op. cit.

[18] Our evaluation, which we distributed widely, was entitled, Communities United against Racism in Education: CURE Analysis, Houghton Mifflin History/Social Science Series, 1991.

César Chávez


author: Susan Eddy
Children’s Press, 2003
kindergarten-grade 2
Mexican American


In this short “Rookie Biography,” black-and-white archival and full-color contemporary photos combine with an easy-to-read text to tell the story of César Chávez—one of the great heroes of modern times—and the migrant farm workers whose lives he devoted his life to improve.

The photos—all of them—are evocative, portraying the dismal working and living conditions of migrant agricultural workers, strike and boycott rallies, and Chávez himself—talking with a small group of farm workers, speaking before the AFL-CIO, walking a picket line, and signing a successful agreement with perturbed-looking grape growers.

The text, which is linked to the photos, gives as much information as is possible in this format: “The farm owners were not fair to the workers. The workers did all the work, but the farm owners made all the money. Cesar knew this was not right.”

Embedded in the text are several words with pronunciation prompts: “furniture (FUR-nuh-chur),” “migrant (MY-gruhnt),” “organized (OR-guh-nized),” and “union (YOON-yuhn),” but not “tomatoes,” “eighth,” or “presidential.” I find this teeth-grindingly annoying.

However, as a series book for beginning readers—with limited text and short sentences—Cesar Chavez could have been a lot worse. Recommended.

—Beverly Slapin
(published 12/6/13)

Picture Book of César Chávez


authors: David A. Adler and Michael S. Adler
illustrator: Marie Olofsdotter
Holiday House, 2011
grades 2-up
Mexican American

 A Picture Book of Cesar Chavez is a cookie-cutter picture biography, a linear approach to Chávez’s life, from birth to death. It’s a simplistic telling, full of inaccuracies, and devoid of feeling and anything else that might encourage young children to empathize with the struggles of agricultural workers in Chávez’s time and continuing today.

The narrative is flat and dry, telling young readers what to think. On the first page, for example, the Adlers describe young César’s life:

As a child, Cesar Chavez traveled with his family from one farm to the next to pick beans, broccoli, lettuce, and other crops. After a day in the fields, his back often ached. His hands were sore. Yet Chavez and others who helped put food on Americans’ tables often had no tables of their own, no real homes.

The assumptions here are that César Chávez was born poor, that he had no real home, and that he was not “American.”

But the Chávez family was not always poor—in fact, for the first ten years of his life, young César’s large extended family owned an 80-acre ranch, a grocery store and a gas station—and produced enough to feed themselves, stock the grocery store, and feed any homeless people who happened by. Yet, what’s written about and shown here is a dry, barren environment: three shacks with burlap taking the place of doors, six dead trees in the background, and an oil can to sit on. Chávez has been quoted as saying, “I had more happy moments as a child than unhappy moments,” yet young readers here see no happy moments, only textual and visual descriptions of extreme poverty.

On the next page, the authors write that “César’s father was often too busy to spend time with his family,” and an accompanying illustration depicts the Chávez children only with their mother. In truth, César’s father worked very hard and was actively involved in his children’s lives. While their mother taught them dichos to live by and the importance of kindness to those less fortunate than themselves, their father taught them about the values of honest work and standing up to discrimination.

Rather than deconstruct the entire book, I’ll mention just two other excerpts. In describing migrant agricultural labor, the Adlers write:

Cesar’s father soon found work for the family picking peas. They walked, bent over, between the rows of plants. For a full hamper—twenty-five pounds of peas—they earned twenty cents. When the work on that farm was done, the family moved on…. When the farm boss was especially unfair or when work conditions were especially bad, Cesar’s father said, “Okay, let’s go,” and they quit.

The assumption here is that, although agricultural workers’ jobs could be difficult, they were free to leave and could easily find other work. But, besides the difficulty and danger of the work itself, migrant agricultural workers had to deal with all kinds of abuse. While the Adlers’ use of terms such as “especially unfair” and “especially bad” minimize the situation for farm workers, Kathleen Krull, in Harvesting Hope, shows young readers how conditions really were:

As he worked, it disturbed him that landowners treated their workers more like farm tools than human beings. They provided no clean drinking water, rest periods, or access to bathrooms. Anyone who complained was fired, beaten up, or sometimes even murdered.[1]

And, in César: ¡Sí, Se puede! Yes, We Can!, Carmen Bernier-Grand paints a striking portrait of migrant agricultural work:

Lechuguero,
a lettuce thinner,
a man, a woman, or a child
who pulls off smaller plants
to make room for bigger plants—
the patron’s green gold.

Row after row,
César walked.
Stooped over, twisted,
clawing at the chuga
with el cortito,
a short-handled hoe.

No boots, just shoes
sinking in mud,
clay clinging to the soles.

Every day swathed in scarves
covering his nose and mouth.
Trying not to breathe,
trying not to swallow
the smelly spray blowing on him.

Armpits sweating,
back aching…aching…aching.
Too tired to feel the hunger.[2]

In discussing Chávez’s organizing work, the Adlers write:

In 1958, (Chávez) went to Oxnard and asked the farmworkers there to register and vote. They asked him, “Why is it we can’t get any jobs?” The jobs were going to workers from Mexico, who accepted lower pay.

What young readers will assume here is that Mexican workers came to steal jobs from the Mexican American farm workers. What really happened was this: From 1942 through 1964, the US brought in millions of manual laborers from Mexico to work the fields. These workers, known as “braceros,” were impoverished and exploitable, and the growers used them to depress labor wages. In Oxnard, young Chávez led a protracted faceoff with the fruit growers, who eventually caved and hired local workers. The Adlers’s simplistic description of the Oxnard struggle, by omitting this important information, blames the braceros for their own exploitation.

Olofsdotter’s illustrations, in ink and colored pencil on a subdued pallet, depict everyone as expressionless; they look frontward or sideward, never at each other. Even in the picture of César and Helen courting, they’re looking past each other, at a 45-degree angle! In one illustration, César, on a hunger strike, is sitting in an easy chair with a blanket over his knees. Helen is standing behind him, her hand on his shoulder. In front of them is a coffee table holding a pitcher of water. They appear to be inside. People are standing around, zombie-like. They appear to be outside. Yet, there are neither walls nor windows that would delineate inside from outside.

In a particularly egregious illustration, expressionless people look on as Chávez, weakened at the end of a long fast and supported by two farm workers, walks toward Robert Kennedy, who holds out a small loaf of bread. There are well-known photos of Chávez’s taking his first solid food after a 23-day fast in support of the farm worker strike against the Delano grape growers.[3] The photos depict both Chávez and Kennedy sitting in chairs next to each other. Their hands are touching as Kennedy offers Chávez a small piece of bread. The emotion is palpable. The effect of Olofsdotter’s version, however, is to distance young readers from, rather than bring them closer to, the people. I’d like to ask her why she did this.

While tiny figures of anonymous agricultural workers toil in the background, the cover shows César Chávez, wearing a tiny UFW button on a clean plaid shirt. His hands and face are clean; he is holding a large, clean basket filled with melons, lettuce, cauliflower, and bunches of grapes. Since agricultural workers harvest one crop at a time, this illustration may be symbolic of farm worker pride. But young children will not see—and teachers may very well overlook—the backbreaking labor and the struggle for human rights that continue today. A Picture Book of Cesar Chavez is not recommended.

—Beverly Slapin
(published 12/6/13)


[1] Kathleen Krull, Harvesting Hope: The Story of Cesar Chavez, illustrated by Yuyi Morales. Harcourt, 2003.

[2] Carmen T. Bernier-Grand, César: ¡Sí, Se puede! Yes, We Can!, illustrated by David Diaz. Marshall Cavendish, 2004.

[3] A copy of this photo can be found at art.com: http://www.art.com/products/p16719427819

Picasso: I the King, Yo el rey


author: Carmen T. Bernier-Grand
illustrator: David Díaz
Amazon Children’s Publishing, 2012
grades 6-up
Spanish

As in her other poem-biographies, Bernier-Grand’s elegant free verse is crisp and clean, with every word precisely chosen. Here, in 40 carefully researched poems, she chronicles the creative and turbulent life of Pablo Picasso—profound narcissist (“yo el rey”), notorious philanderer (“ravenous for orgies”), tormented hypochondriac (death, “the mistress that never leaves you”), loving father (“let the children just be children”)—and artistic genius, perhaps one of the most important of the past century. Although Bernier-Grand frankly discusses Picasso’s many relationships and marriages and how the women in his life inspired his artistry (“As paint is to brush, women are to Picasso’s art”), she neither sensationalizes nor demeans them.

Here, Bernier-Grand writes of Picasso’s main obsession:

When Picasso has emptied himself of painting, he draws,
when he has emptied himself of print making, he sculpts,
when he has emptied himself of sculpting, he illustrates,
when he has emptied himself of illustrating, he photographs,
when he has emptied himself of photographing, he writes poems,
when he has emptied himself of writing poems, Picasso paints.
when he has emptied himself of drawing, he make ceramics,
when he has emptied himself of ceramics, he makes prints.

Extensive back matter includes a biographical essay, entitled “Pablo Picasso and the Mistress Who Never Left Him,” which fills in any and all gaps in the poetry; a chronology, a glossary of Spanish words and terms, a list of sources, and copious notes on paintings and quotes.

Interspersed throughout the book are reproductions of some of Picasso’s paintings, including an exhausted woman bent over an ironing board, portraits of Gertrude Stein and Georges Braque, and sex workers in a brothel. I was especially glad to see Picasso’s perhaps most important and definitely most famous painting, “Guernica,” which memorializes the Nazi bombing in 1937 that killed some 3,000 people, injured more than another 1,000, and destroyed the Basque town. Accompanying the painting on a two-page spread are a descriptive poem and short historical note. 

Bernier-Grand writes:

Monday—market day
Guernica
Basque city
bombed.
Peasants shot from the air.
Children and women
horses, sheep, cattle
    slaughtered.
Terrible deaths.

Picasso paints:
eyes open in horror,
mouths shrieking,
a horse screaming,

a shocked bull.


As an introductory biography of a particular artist, Picasso presents myriad opportunities for teachers of middle- and high school students: an introduction to modern art and artists, an exploration of the relationships between art and history and censorship (including point-of-view depictions of world events), a discussion of the many and varied forms of cultural expression, and a model for writing exercises of bio-poems.

In answer to those reviewers who criticized Picasso for not being a “happy” book and/or suggested that children should not be exposed to the seamy sides of Picasso’s life, I would say this: Every child who watches television, and every teenager who reads graphic novels, is exposed to sexuality, death, disease, suffering and war—in situations and circumstances that occur every day. I’d rather have children read an honest biography that discusses the issues of a person’s life than one that obfuscates them. Bernier-Grand is a brilliant storyteller who pushes boundaries and takes great care with her words. She is also ethical; I don’t believe she would ever attempt to conceal unpleasant facts about someone whose biography she decides to research and write. I applaud her choices, especially here. Picasso: I the King, Yo el rey is a remarkable achievement. It’s an illuminating and provocative work of art—poetically and visually. Highly recommended.

—Beverly Slapin
(published 11/21/13; paragraph redacted and note added, 2/15/18)

Note, 2/15/18: Multiple women have come forward with public statements that David Díaz sexually harassed them. After investigating claims against Díaz, the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) removed him from its board and conference faculty, and expelled him from the organization. Several other conferences have banned him as well. We have redacted our references to his art in this review.



Diego: Bigger than Life

author: Carmen T. Bernier-Grand
illustrator: David Díaz
Marshall Cavendish, 2009
grades 7-up
Mexican

Here is Diego Rivera, the revolutionary Mexican artist who sought justice for all poor and working people. Here is Diego Rivera, the woman-chaser, whose many marriages and extra-marital affairs were well known. Here is Diego Rivera, the storyteller and, some would say, master liar. The 34 poems here, in flawlessly executed free verse gathered mostly from Rivera’s own writings—and occasionally, from those of Frida Kahlo and the Mexican Communist Party—affirm the exhaustive amount of research that Bernier-Grand must have undertaken.

In the text of her work, the author chooses to leave Rivera’s perspectives virtually untouched, relegating unanswered questions and hypotheses to a helpful author’s note. In a piece entitled “The True Life of Diego Rivera,” Bernier–Grand raises the inconsistencies between Rivera’s writing and information available today—When Rivera was born, was the pale infant really thrown into a dung bucket? Was he really raised by an Indian wet nurse? Did the Mexican Communist Party really expel him, or did he expel himself? Here is where Bernier-Grand details the political and personal controversies of Rivera’s tumultuous life and work, as well as his many stormy dalliances, affairs and marriages. 

In addition to “The True Life of Diego Rivera,” there’s a short section entitled “In His Own Words.” Other back matter includes a glossary, a chronology of Rivera’s life, a list of sources, and copious notes that support Bernier-Grand’s research. This wealth of material will prove invaluable for student research and classroom projects, including, for example, a study of political mural art or that of point-of-view in published biographies and autobiographies.    

But it’s the biography itself that’s a veritable work of art. Here, Bernier-Grand, with an amazing economy of words, paints a portrait of a man who was, indeed, “bigger than life”:

As naturally as I breathe,
I painted in grand scale the colors of Mexico—
clearer, richer, more full of light than colors in Europe.

As naturally as I speak,
I painted in grand scale the music of Mexico
in markets, crowds, festivals—
Burning of the Judases, the Dance of the Deer.

As naturally as I sweat,
I painted in grand scale the workers of Mexico
in fields, mines, streets—
Indians carrying bundles of calla lilies.

A million public walls
wouldn’t be enough
to paint all the beauty of Mexico.


Diego: Bigger than Life is, indeed, an amazing mural of words. It is highly recommended.

—Beverly Slapin
(published 11/19/13; note added )

Note, 2/15/18: Multiple women have come forward with public statements that David Díaz sexually harassed them. After investigating claims against Díaz, the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) removed him from its board and conference faculty, and expelled him from the organization. Several other conferences have banned him as well. We have redacted our references to his art in this review.