Picasso and the Greatest Show on Earth is a novel for middle-grade readers by award-winning Australian author, Anna Fienberg. Frances has only been in Oatfield a few weeks and isn’t looking forward to joining Year Seven at Oatfield High School halfway through the year. Dad’s away in Pakistan doing stories on vaccines; Mum is, understandably sad, and not just about Dad’s absence.

Frances has a new pup, Picasso, that Mum thinks will distract her from her obsession with health and infection: “You might think I’d be happy to have a new puppy. You deserve to have an owner who’s excited about you” but dogs seem to have a nose for smelly bad stuff: “Going walkies means having to watch this dog leap from one major health hazard to another” and nothing will help Frances forget her big guilty secret. So she walks Picasso and keeps drawing bacteria and viruses.

“I picked up a 4B pencil. I knew I’d feel better if I was drawing. Whatever I looked at travelled through my eyes and into my hand. Even if clouds turned into spirillum bacteria, it felt good to be rounding up reality and making it go in the direction I wanted, instead of reality rounding me up and yanking me somewhere I didn’t.”

When she does start the new term at school, she manages to embarrass herself, but not everyone thinks she’s weird: “I turned and saw a boy unfold himself like a deck chair, slow and easy. As he stood, he kept going up and up. He had a long thin face, sharp cheekbones as if cut from stone. But it was his eyes that I noticed. One green, one grey. They caught mine and creased at the corners with a half-smile”

Turns out Frances and Kit Jamison have their love of art in common, and soon they are spending time together, sharing techniques and the awe of their natural environment. But just as Frances doesn’t talk about her little brother, there are some things Kit won’t discuss: “I wanted to ask more but he was staring hard at his knuckles, drawing in his elbows as if he wanted to lock himself up like a suitcase, so I didn’t.” But she does wish he trusted her enough to talk.

Fienberg gives her readers a beautiful story that underlines the importance of communication and trust. It’s partly the absence of those that sees her main players plagued by shame, or fear, or guilt in its many incarnations. Quirky behaviours are the subject of stigma and bullying is sometimes the result. But there are also supportive people with wise words and good advice. And there’s Picasso, the dog with PTSD…

Fienberg’s descriptive prose is often gorgeous, be it about the Australian landscape, which the reader can practically hear, see and smell, or her wonderfully appealing characters, or the unique artworks, or feelings and emotions: “I didn’t know what to say. My guts were knotting. We both went back to holding the silence. It was so heavy. Unbearable. My arms ached to put it down. I wanted to count out the seconds, anything not to hear how quiet it had got.” Highly recommended!
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by NetGalley and Allen & Unwin.