In the great forest, a little elephant is born. His name is Babar. His mother loves him very much. She rocks him to sleep with her trunk while singing softly to him.
Babar has grown bigger. He now plays with the other little elephants. He is a very good little elephant. See him digging in the sand with a shell.
Babar is riding happily on his mother’s back when a wicked hunter, hidden behind some bushes, shoots at them.
The hunter has killed Babar’s mother! The monkey hides, the birds fly away, Babar cries. The hunter runs up to catch poor Babar. Babar runs away because he is afraid of the hunter. After several days, very tired indeed, he comes to a town.
The monkey cannot hide any further. The birds cannot fly away any harder. Babar cannot cry any longer. His mother died once. Babar cried once. Everything is even and accounted for.
He hardly knows what to make of it because this is the first time that he has seen so many houses. So many things are new to him! The broad streets! The automobiles and buses! Do you remember that Babar’s mother is dead? Babar needs not to remember his mother right now. Will you remember for him?
However, he is especially interested in two gentlemen he notices on the street. There are so many things Babar wants, but only a few things he can have. Why should Babar want to remember his mother, who is lying dead in the great forest?
He says to himself: “Really, they are very well dressed. I would like to have some fine clothes, too! I wonder how I can get them?”
Do you think Babar is wrong to think about fine clothes at a time like this? But you have always had fine clothes. Where is your mother right now? Is she lying on the ground, not moving?
Luckily, a very rich old lady who has always been fond of little elephants understands right away that he is longing for a fine suit. As she likes to make people happy, she gives him her purse.
Babar says to her politely: “Thank you, Madam.” She has not made him happy, but he knows how to be polite.
Without wasting any time, Babar goes into a big store. Babar does not have any time to waste. He enters the elevator. It is such fun to ride up and down in this funny box, that he rides all the way up ten times and all the way down ten times. It is very funny. It must be funny, because Babar is laughing. He was going to continue but the elevator boy finally says to him: “This is not a toy, Mr. Elephant. You must get out and do your shopping.”
You are a toy, Babar thinks but does not say, because he is still laughing.
Then he buys himself: a shirt with a collar and tie, a suit of a becoming shade of green, then a handsome derby hat, and finally shoes with spats. He buys them himself.
Well satisfied with his purchases and feeling very elegant indeed, Babar goes to the photographer’s studio. And here is his photograph. Babar is elegant and satisfied. Elegant and satisfied and laughing, and not dead in the forest. The photograph is proof that Babar is alive and elegant and satisfied and laughing and not dead. It is too much to ask for Babar to be happy too. Elegant and satisfied and not dead is good enough for Babar.
Babar dines with his friend the Old Lady. She thinks he looks very smart in his new clothes. He does not think about her at all. After dinner, feeling tired, he falls asleep quickly. He lies still and quiet on the bed like his mother lies still and quiet on the ground.
How long does it take you to fall asleep?
Babar now lives at the Old Lady’s house. Babar does not worry about how this happened, so why should you? In the mornings, he does exercises with her, and then he takes his bath. Do you still remember Babar’s mother for him? Someone should remember her, but Babar does not have the time. Babar has a green suit instead.
In the evening, after dinner, he tells the Old Lady’s friends all about his life in the great forest. He does not tell them about his mother. He goes out for an automobile ride every day. The Old Lady has bought him the car. She gives him whatever he wants. Her reasons are her own.
Two years have passed. The years have passed themselves. One day during his walk he sees two little elephants, completely naked, coming toward him. “Why,” he says in astonishment to the Old Lady, “it’s Arthur and Celeste, my little cousins!” Babar does not ask them why they have left the forest. If they are here, it is because they have lost something. If you think about something you have lost, it is still lost. He does not ask them what they have lost because he cannot replace it.
Babar kisses Arthur and Celeste and goes to buy them some fine clothes. He takes them to a pastry shop to eat some delicious cakes. “I know a funny box that we can ride all the way up ten times and all the way down ten times.”
Meanwhile, in the forest, the elephants are calling and hunting for Arthur and Celeste. Fortunately, in flying over the town, an old marabou has seen them. He comes back quickly to tell the elephants. No one called for Babar when he left, but he does not mind it now. The trick to everything is not minding. You can go up ten times and down ten times and still laugh. And Babar is always laughing.
Babar makes up his mind to go back with Arthur and Celeste to see the great forest again. The Old Lady helps him to pack his trunk. Everything is ready for their departure. Babar kisses his old friend. He promises to come back some day. He will never forget her. Babar knows exactly what to say to people until their faces relax. The Old Lady is left alone. Babar does not mind thinking about her, because she has never troubled him. She bought him clothes and did exercises with him and he has never once loved her, not once, not once.
That very day, the king of the elephants has eaten a bad mushroom. It poisoned him, and he became ill, so ill that he died. He lies very still on the ground of the great forest and does not move. After the funeral the oldest elephants held a meeting to choose a new king.
Just then they hear a noise. They turn around. Guess what they see! Babar arriving in his car and all the elephants running and shouting: “Here they are! Here they are! They have returned! Hello, Babar! Hello, Arthur! Hello, Celeste! What beautiful clothes! What a beautiful car!” Who wants to think about a dead elephant lying on the floor when there are such beautiful clothes, such a beautiful car? (Do you remember the thing you promised to remember?)
Then Cornelius, the oldest of all the elephants, says in his quavering voice: “My good friends, we are seeking a king. Why not choose Babar? He has just returned from the city, he has a green suit and spats, let us give him the crown.” Babar is alive. All the other elephants think that Cornelius has spoken wisely, and they eagerly await Babar’s reply. It does not bother Babar to be back in the forest. It does not bother Babar to do anything. Babar has been up ten times and down ten times. Babar is elegant and satisfied. He has a photograph to prove it. There are so many things Babar can have, but he only wants a few things.
“I want to thank you one and all,” said Babar, “but before accepting your proposal, I must explain to you that, while we were traveling in the car, Celeste and I became engaged. If I become your king, she will be your queen.” There was no reason not to marry Celeste. Can you think of a reason?
“Long live Queen Celeste! Long live King Babar!” cry all the elephants without a moment’s hesitation. Why would they hesitate?
After the wedding and the coronation Babar is King. He is King even now.
I saw the title and said, out loud at my desk, “OH, MALLORY, NOOOOOO” Will go read now.
Same.
Me three. Still have my Babar comforter I had as a child *in my apartment* right now. The apartment that is mine because I pay for it from my job.
*has life crisis about whether or not I’m just going up and down ten times*
Where is your mother right now? Is she lying on the ground, not moving?
GODDAMMIT MALLORY
i need to go call my mom and tell her i love her
Oh man, those Slate readers have NO IDEA what they’re in for…
I think Toast Moms will all be getting some unexpectedly mushy phone calls today…
I always knew this day would come. But I didn’t think it would come so soon. I’m not ready. I’m not ready.
Thank you, thank you so much! I have been waiting for this one and it is everything I wanted.
Also, I think that every now and then a Prudie letter should be answered horrifically, or perhaps with a great dog from art, just to keep everyone guessing.
I already posted this in the Link Roundup comments, but I feel like it actually belongs here:
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/11/09/books/review-a-…
MALLORY, when will you learn that lady bloggers in their prime simply do not have the delectably louche cynicism necessary to *properly* re-tell a fairytale? When will you learn that the uses for enchantment can only be reliably re-imagined by men who alternately write books and stare knowingly/puckishly into the camera and know the grody truth about Popular Culture?
I replied to you in Link Roundup, but +seventy thousand. Also, icky review was icky. Although “He lacks a lower leg; she lacks sentimentality” may be my new dating goal.
Definitely make sure he is cognizant of lacking more than a lower leg, otherwise it will always be about how HE is spiritually and mentally and emotionally rich and loyal and wonderful, despite his physical imperfection, and YOU are bankrupt in your soul, despite your beauty, and he will NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT.
“He is unbalanced; she is flammable.”
“He needs prosthetics; she needs dimension.”
“He casts a funny shadow; she can’t be seen sideways.”
Story of my effing life, the way that relationship is parsed.
Waaaaaait, is Babar actually about colonialism? Huh. Makes more sense now.
I’m beginning to think that literally all children’s books are about colonialism.
I mean, that’s the best way to get children to accept their part in upholding the status quo in years to come.
I wonder how many theses and dissertations there are about this exact idea.
Colonialism and Babar certainly came up in my children’s lit class.
Aaaaand the Narnia books just re-wrote themselves in my head.
I was very grateful to the introduction to post-colonial theory I had in grad school for giving a name to the reason why Babar stories made me feel vaguely, unaccountably uncomfortable as a child.
I’ve only just started realizing things like this now, a few years out of college, but I had the same kind of feelings. I had a very similar discussion on Twitter about Curious George last week; I never was comfortable with it and the horrific version made it all click.
There was a bit in Fun Home about this! Yeah, they really are.
oh man, when I realized that (reading with my niece not toooooooo long ago) – after not having looked at the book since I was a wee one, I felt so unsettled.
o_O
Yep it definitely is– I teach a chapter from Herbert Kohl’s book Should We Burn Babar? which I freely admit to students is a total downer.
But a *helpful* downer, because it reminded me of Vera Williams’s writing, and now my niblings have some anti-sexist, anti-racist awesomeness on their bookshelves.
I love the word niblings I only have one nephew at the moment, but the second one of my other siblings falls on the baby train, it’s going to be niblings all the time!
how does a bastard, orphan, elephant
domesticated poor pet rule over colonies he’s never met?
i wanna be in the room where that happens
Death doesn’t discriminate
between the elephants and saints
it takes and it takes and it takes
We keep living anyway
We rise and we fall and we rise and we fall
And we rise and we fall and we rise and we fall
And we rise and we fall and we rise and we fall
And we rise and we fall and we rise and we fall
And we rise and we fall and we rise and we fall
And if there’s a reason I’m still alive
When everyone around me has died
I’m willing to wait for it
GUYS
oh my goooooodddddddd im not breathing.
here all freaking day for Babar as Elephamilton.
Celeste! Arthur! And Peggy!
I don’t know, the last few haven’t been as terrible as the swan one but I guess everyone has different tastes and also I should be careful what I wish for huh?
But while I’m wishing may I request But Not The Hippopotamus? It’s pretty horrifying as is but I’d love to see what Mallory can do with it.
May I request that you leave BNTH the hell alone? Between George and Babar I will already never be the same.
ohohhhhh george never again will I be able to see TMWTYH and not twitch…
WHAT? NO! But Not the Hippopotamus is perfection!
I like to think that there’s a sequel where the armadillo sets them all on fire.
I believe she posted a tweet or possibly it was on fb in the last year or so, by popular request, armadillo appreciation day.
This… is not too far off from how I deal with grief and bad stuff. But I went to a therapist instead of a little old lady, and I do not have spats. Nonetheless, I am now uneasy.
If you had spats you wouldn’t have time to feel uneasy. Get spats.
Oh, Mallory, yay! Thanks!
Popcorn, as promised, coming up!
(I have manners where my heart should be, and tea instead of feelings.)
I have manners where my heart should be, and tea instead of feelings.
That’s going on the “embroidery” spreadsheet.
Awww, thanks! 🙂
It’s got such a lovely rhythm to it, as well as a wonderful sentiment. MANners where my HEART should be, and TEA instead of FEELings.
SAME.
The trick to everything is not minding.
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck
The one woman play from Lily Tomlin in the 80’s…..The search for signs of intelligent life in the universe:
…..the secret is not to mind it.
And that reminds me of “How to Like It.” https://littlebitsofthis.wordpress.com/2014/09/23…
I, like Babar, am choosing not to remember the thing you told us to remember, so I’m going to focus on why the old lady sees a baby elephant wander out of the jungle, and decides that what he really needs is a new wardrobe and a car.
I was a very literal-minded child. HE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE THUMBS, OLD LADY.
This story (the first Babar story) was apparently invented by Cecile de Brunhoff, Jean’s wife, which is…interesting. I also read in the anniversary album (maybe in Sendak’s introduction?) that Jean de Brunhoff knew, at some point, that he was dying of TB, so he tried to put life lessons into the stories for his children. Don’t know if this is true, but it sounds like something Sendak would latch onto. I confess I adored these books as a child, but they are a very strange reflection of colonial France, grief, and haute bourgeoisie.
DON’T MENTION Maurice Sendak. If Mallory covers any Sendak stories (especially Chicken Soup With Rice) what’s left of my childhood may crumble on itself.
I want to believe Maurice Sendak’s knowingly dabbling in the weird and dark aspects of childhood (I mean, come on, Outside Over There?) is his (our?) saving grace.
I had nightmares about Outside Over There for years. YEARS. If I read it again today I would probably have more nightmares. Your wicked touch can do nothing to make that book worse, Ortberg.
I think this is actually less horrifying than the original.
Mallory left out the deforestation and tract housing and residential schools, after all.
I keep reading deforestation as defenestration and asking myself, who would defenestrate an elephant? Seems unwise.
I AM NOT EVEN GOING TO READ THIS GODAMMIT. Must you ruin everything, Mallory? #curiousgeorgePTSD
“Bavaria is elegant and satisfied. He has a photo to prove it.”
This is the reasoning behind every selfie I take.
This is the reasoning behind every selfie ever taken.
OMG you’re gonna be Prudie two worlds have converged. Will the advice come with a reading list?
“Babar needs not to remember his mother right now. Will you remember for him?”
:cries:
I had problems with this book even before I know “colonialism” was a Thing.
OTOH, please don’t tell me Crictor by Tomi Ungerer is equally bad.
eta: although this did not break me as much as Curious George because I did not feel the Old Lady’s motivations possibly might include selling Babar into sex slavery.
FOR FUCK’S SAKE, MALLORY, I MEAN GOD.
(I loved this and I hate you for making me love it, like the Old Lady wishes Babar loved her.)
Who’s next, Lowly Worm? You monster!
STOP GIVING HER IDEAS
Thesis: Lowly Worm is as close as we get to an unimpeachable Calvinist in children’s literature. He was clearly named with Total Depravity in mind.
noooo i have a dead mother and father and college was my version of the city and i think my fancy degrees are my green suit and i’ve spent so long trying to be elegant and satisfied and alive and i might be babar *sobs*
man, this one hit me in the feels.
i have not been an agent of colonialism, though, so i guess that’s good?
“She rocks him to sleep with her trunk while singing softly to him.”
Oh God, I don’t know if I can go any further, my heart is already out of my body and on the sacrificial altar D: (what with ELEPHANTS and BABY ELEPHANTS and MOMS USING TRUNKS TO CRADLE OFFSPRING)
This is putting me in all my childhood crisis Dumbo’s mother feelings and I am not okay.
I saw Dumbo in the theater when I was four, and had an absolute meltdown during “Baby Mine”. I have never seen Dumbo since then and cannot bear the thought of seeing it.
That is reasonable.
Also saw Dumbo ONCE as a small child, I have no real memory of it except for visceral horror. I never want to see it ever again.
In retrospect I am pretty sure it must have stirred up some adopted kid feelings sludge.
I’ve just switched to a higher-estrogen form of birth control. I CANNOT EVEN with elephant families right now.
1. As all good Canadians know, Gordon Pinsent is the voice of Babar, and his soothing timbre will help us get over this subtle psychological horror.
2. It is a well loved fact in my family that when I was not even 3, I was a devotee of the books and demanded to be referred to as Cornelius. I would not answer to my own name. But it came out closer to Cor-nee-nee-us because that shit’s hard to pronounce when you’re that small.
“Do you think Babar is wrong to think about fine clothes at a time like this? But you have always had fine clothes. Where is your mother right now? Is she lying on the ground, not moving?”
MALLORY
The “Babar’s mother” article in Babar wikipedia is the cruelest thing:
http://babar.wikia.com/wiki/Babar's_mother
“an unnamed elephant THAT gives birth to Babar.”
Not even “an unnamed elephant WHO gives birth to Babar.”
I was all, “ha-ha, colonialist children’s book got what was coming to it” but now I need someone to hold me while I drink.
“Categories : Elephants, Females, Deceased”
Just another dead mother in our pop culture. 🙁
I just had Land Before Time flashbacks.
Bambi’s mom is unnamed, too, isn’t she?
They deserved better.
When my son was two, we strolled past a dead squirrel. “Look, it’s a mommy,” he said. I said that we really couldn’t tell if it was a girl or a boy. “Nope, it’s a mommy” was his confident reply. F** you, Disney!
I never even started my kids on any Babar.
Holy mother of elephants, Mallory. I can’t.
Love it! I was given the Babar stories when I was a nipper, and this is the bollocks!
Please please please can we have a Peter Rabbit Made Horrific? I’ve been perplexed by these books for years.
Mrs. Rabbit has 4 children, one of whom is Flopsy. So she is known as Flopsy Rabbit. Then she marries her cousin Benjamin Bunny, so presumably she becomes Flopsy Bunny (nee Rabbit). But then why are the children known as the Flopsy Bunnies? Wouldn’t the whole family just be known as the Bunnies?
Consider this: Benjamin’s father is also known as Benjamin Bunny, so presumably Benjamin is known as Bejamin Bunny Jnr. Given that Mrs. Rabbit is widowed, one might presume that her late husband’s surname was Rabbit. If Peter and Benjamin Jnr. are cousins, we can surmise that Mrs. Rabbit’s maiden name was Bunny. However we know nothing about Benjamin Snr.’s wife – presumably he must have had one, otherwise where did Benjamin Jnr. come from? There can be only one conclusion. Mr. Rabbit and Mrs. Bunny were conducting an affair, and were using Mr. MacGregor’s garden as a rendezvous. It was not only Mr. Rabbit who was put in a pie, but Mrs. Bunny too. Which is why Mr. Bunny is in such a bad mood when we meet him. This also begs the question, if Benjamin Jnr. really Benjamin Snr’s son, or the illegitimate offspring of Mr. Rabbit? You notice that he beats Benjamin with his switch, but not Peter, Benjamin being the product of his adulterous wife.
If Benjamin is not Mr. Bunny’s son, but Mr. Rabbit’s, then he married his half-sister (Flopsy), and that’s just w-r-o-n-g.
Babar is a justification for the French colonization of Africa; only by forgetting our mother and recognizing the superiority of the West can a savage people become developed/civilized; then the civilized elephants can use the silly superstition of their still savage enemies to defeat them in battle. Babar is the native sent to France to be civilized and educated to prepare him to lead his people to civilization.
“Babar knows exactly what to say to people until their faces relax” is my favorite.
Mine too and I envy Babar for it.
Jean de Brunhoff would be proud. PROUD.
But, but I have a Babar themed nursery planned. Guess I’m switching to Madeleine.
(I’m not even married). (I’ll see myself out).
Oh, have you not read Mallory’s horrifying Madeleine? You sweet summer child. http://the-toast.net/2014/04/07/adventures-madeli…
Thank you for ruining, one by one, all of the stories I read my five-year-old at night.
ps do some roald dahl
Roald Dahl is already horrifying about a millimeter under the surface.
Please do your interpretation of any of the Freddy the Pig books, by Walter R. Brooks! I will be eternally grateful.
Oh no no no no, you are not permitted to ruin Babar for me. Not reading!
“How long does it take you to fall asleep?”
Now, Mallory, literally forever. I shall never sleep again.
"How long does it take you to fall asleep?"
Now, Mallory, literally forever. I shall never sleep again.
Jesus Christ, Mallory.
I know this was said about how you ruined Goodnight, Moon already. I don’t care. I shall ride in a box ten times.
My kids listen to a recording of this and love it. I only now understand why I have to leave the room.