“The Funeral” by Matt James

“The Funeral” by Matt James is an illustrated children’s book that offers a tender, curious and at times playful exploration of a young girl’s first experience with death. The story follows Norma, a school-aged girl about to attend her first funeral — that of her great-uncle Frank. At the outset, Norma is not particularly concerned with the weight of the occasion. Instead, she’s excited by the prospect of a day off from school and the chance to spend time with her favorite cousin, Ray. As the day unfolds, however, we see the funeral through Norma’s eyes — not as a somber rite, but as a curious, somewhat bewildering event full of small moments and mundane details.

Norma’s perspective as a child is refreshing. She is more interested in the texture of the day — the boredom of sitting in the pews, the playfulness of running around outside after the ceremony, and the fleeting curiosity that arises when she notices things, such as light filtering through the church windows, or wondering why God and prayer seem to take center stage in the service, while her great-uncle himself is barely mentioned. These observations are peppered with the sort of innocent questions that young children might ask in unfamiliar situations: Why is everyone so sad? Why is the service about God and not about Uncle Frank? It’s an endearing portrayal of how a child’s mind processes a cultural ritual that may be far removed from their everyday experience.

James’ prose is simple, yet evocative, focusing on the subtle, often overlooked details that shape a child’s understanding of the world; a perspective we easily forget as we age. There is a quiet joy in the way he captures Norma’s perspective — a sense of wonder at the ordinary that turns even a funeral into a series of vivid, sensory moments. The emotional weight of the funeral is there, but it’s filtered through the lens of a child’s curiosity, rather than solemn reflection.

The illustrations, a striking blend of acrylics, ink, twine, cardboard and digitally processed elements, complement the text perfectly. The character designs are minimalist, with most figures rendered in simple, stylized shapes, lending the book a raw, almost DIY aesthetic. The exception is the portrait of great-uncle Frank, which stands out as a detailed, almost reverential depiction, a visual anchor for the story’s exploration of memory and loss. The muted tones of the artwork mirror the somberness of the funeral, while the whimsical use of materials reflects the playfulness of Norma’s perspective.

“The Funeral” is not a book about explaining death or mourning to children — it doesn’t seek to teach children the mechanics of grief or help them understand the finality of death. Rather, it’s a book about a child’s experience of a cultural event that they do not fully understand. If you’re looking for a book to help a child grapple with the concept of death, “The Funeral” might not be the best choice. It won’t provide a clear explanation of death’s emotional or philosophical weight. However, it could help prepare a child for the social and sensory aspects of attending a funeral. Through Norma’s experiences, children might gain some sense of what to expect — the long periods of sitting, the quiet voices, the people who may be sad but are also talking, eating and interacting in ways that are both familiar and strange.

In this sense, the book is a sort of gentle primer, offering a window into how a child might experience the strangeness of a funeral. But with its emphasis on play — the running around and the fleeting distractions of a child’s attention — it risks setting an unrealistic expectation that a funeral is a place for fun and recreation, or at least that it will be a day primarily spent outside of the somber rituals.