Stories about space usually involve high-stakes missions or terrifying aliens. But in 2007, Oliver Jeffers gave us a boy, a propeller plane, and a very unexpected engine failure on the moon. If you’ve ever picked up The Way Back Home, you know it’s not really about orbital mechanics. It's about that universal, slightly panicky feeling of being stuck far from where you belong.
Kids get it immediately. Adults? We usually need a second to remember what it felt like to be that small.
The book is the third entry in Jeffers’ "The Boy" series, following How to Catch a Star and Lost and Found. While the previous books dealt with longing and friendship, this one introduces a chaotic element: a Martian. It’s a masterclass in visual storytelling that manages to be both lonely and incredibly warm at the same time.
What actually happens in The Way Back Home?
The plot is deceptively thin. A boy finds an airplane in his cupboard. Naturally, he flies it into outer space. He runs out of petrol—which is a very "boy" way to describe a fuel crisis—and gets stuck on the moon. Then, a Martian in a flying saucer has engine trouble and lands nearby.
They’re both terrified.
That’s the core of the book. Two beings from completely different worlds realize they are exactly the same because they’re both scared and stranded. They don’t speak the same language. They don't even look alike. But they solve their problems through basic human (and Martian) cooperation. The boy jumps back down to Earth to grab a flashlight and a wrench, climbs back up a giant rope, and they fix each other’s ships.
Honestly, the physics are nonsense. You can't climb a rope to the moon. But in Jeffers’ world, the emotional logic is airtight. The boy realizes he isn't the center of the universe, yet he’s capable of helping someone else who feels just as lost.
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The genius of Oliver Jeffers' style
If you look closely at the illustrations, you’ll notice the boy has "pencil legs." He’s a minimalist creation. Jeffers often uses watercolor washes and mixed media to create these massive, intimidating backgrounds—huge expanses of dark blue space or vast oceans—against which this tiny, spindly-legged character has to navigate.
It makes the boy look vulnerable.
Most children’s books try to make the protagonist look like a hero. In The Way Back Home, the boy looks like a kid who is slightly over his head but decides to be brave anyway. Jeffers uses hand-lettered text, which makes the whole experience feel like a diary entry or a secret shared between the author and the reader. It’s intimate. There is a specific spread where the boy and the Martian are sitting in the dark, and the only light comes from a tiny flashlight. It perfectly captures that "us against the world" feeling.
Why the Martian matters more than you think
In a lot of sci-fi, the "Other" is a threat. Think War of the Worlds or even E.T. where the alien is a specimen to be studied.
Jeffers tosses that out.
The Martian is just a guy with a broken engine. By making the alien relatable, the book teaches empathy without being preachy. You don’t need a three-page monologue about diversity. You just need to see two characters shivering in the dark together. It’s a "show, don't tell" approach that most modern media ignores in favor of loud, obvious moral lessons.
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Critics often point to the "Boy" series as a pinnacle of 21st-century picture books. The reason it works is that it doesn't talk down to kids. It acknowledges that being alone is scary. It admits that sometimes, things break and you don't know why.
The hidden details most people miss
If you’ve read the other books in the series, you know the boy has a history of these adventures. In How to Catch a Star, he’s trying to find a friend in the sky. In Lost and Found, he’s helping a penguin. By the time we get to The Way Back Home, he’s graduated from passive observer to an active problem solver.
Notice the cupboard at the beginning. It’s messy. It’s full of stuff. It implies that adventure isn't something you have to travel across the world for; it’s literally sitting in your house waiting to be found.
Also, look at the colors. Jeffers uses a very specific palette of deep teals and vibrant oranges. The contrast between the coldness of space and the warmth of the boy’s home (and his plane) creates a visual tug-of-war. You want him to get back, but you also kind of want him to stay in that beautiful, star-filled void a little longer.
Managing the "Stuck" feeling: Actionable insights from the story
While this is a children's book, the themes are surprisingly applicable to real-world stress and isolation. We all get "stuck on the moon" sometimes—whether that’s a dead-end job, a creative block, or just a bad week.
- Focus on the immediate tool. The boy doesn't try to build a new NASA facility. He grabs a wrench. When you're overwhelmed, look for the smallest possible "wrench" in your life—one tiny task you can actually finish.
- Acknowledge the Martian. Isolation feels heavy until you realize someone else nearby is likely struggling with their own version of a "broken saucer." Reaching out doesn't require a shared language; it just requires showing up.
- The "Rope" method. The boy has to go home to get what he needs to help others. You can’t pour from an empty cup. Sometimes, the way to solve a big problem is to temporarily retreat to your "home base" to recharge and gather resources before heading back into the fray.
The ending of the book is famously open. The boy gets a walkie-talkie signal at the very end. Squeak. Squawk. It’s a reminder that once you make a connection, it doesn't just disappear when the "mission" is over.
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What to do next
If you enjoyed the themes in The Way Back Home, your next step should be checking out the short film adaptation by Studio AKA. It’s narrated by Jim Broadbent and captures the atmosphere perfectly.
Beyond the screen, if you're a parent or educator, try this: ask a child what they would put in a plane to fly to the moon. You’ll find that their answers—usually a sandwich, a favorite toy, or a flashlight—perfectly mirror the grounded, practical bravery that Oliver Jeffers champions in his work.
To really dive into the "Boy" universe, read the books in the order they were released. Start with How to Catch a Star, move to Lost and Found, then hit The Way Back Home, and finish with Up and Down. Seeing the progression of the character from a lonely dreamer to a capable friend provides a lot of context that you might miss if you read them as standalone stories.
The book is more than a bedtime story. It’s a small, square-shaped reminder that the universe is big, but we don't have to be big to survive it. We just need to be helpful.
And maybe keep a spare wrench in the cupboard.