I wonder what children these days are reading.
The stories that I loved best as a child were mainly from the Arabian Nights, Greek & Roman mythology, and those by Hans Christian Andersen and Enid Blyton. Wish I could remember the the name of the hardcover picture storybook series, the ones with gold foil spines.
The two stories that stick in my mind from back in those days are The Ugly Duckling and The Little Match Girl, both by the amazing and apparently greatly troubled Hans Christian Andersen. When I was toddler aged, my brother and I had the kiddie version of The Ugly Duckling, with big huge colour pictures. From one of the pages, the biggest-headed, greyest, forlornest looking little duckling shed the gigantest single teardrop. Everytime Dad got to that page, he would say "yak yak kook, chiliang hor?" (pretty much meaning "ducky cry, so poor thing right"?) after telling me why the duckling was sad and on cue, I would cry. I'd like to think that at such a tender age I recognised a kindred lonely, big-headed (literally) creature who was being judged by its physical appearance. On the other hand, it could have just been a Pavlov-like reaction to the "Chiliang hor?". Bleh.
The Little Match Girl was the first story, which I could actually read myself, to make me cry. Not just tear, mind you, but weep. My heart went out to the poor little girl. Goodness, I feel the waterworks running as I read it today! Wuss.
Sigh. I am a wuss. Am suddenly reminded of the time, in 1999, when I saw a mother cat carry her kittens one by one across the road. An oncoming car startled her and she dropped the kitten in her haste to get out of the way. Poor geleked kitten. When the coast was clear the mother cat tried to retrieve the dead kitten, tugging at it with some difficulty - I think the usual neck "handle" had been flattened beyond use. Crybaby me ran across the road, peeled the kitten off the road and placed it in a shaded area for the mother to mourn.
A few minutes later (having washed hands and wiped tears - in that order, please), I checked on them and found the mother gnawing on the kitten's leg. Eew.
Hmmm... I have to end this post now because it's knock-off time! Anyway I don't really know where I'm going with it...other than to prove that I am a closet crybaby.
Oh yeah...was wondering what children are reading these days. Perhaps I should write my own fairy tales. The Geleked Kitten.
3 comments:
i believe you meant the Little Golden Books? (http://www.randomhouse.com/golden/lgb/) i used to LOVE those! wonder if they still sell them here.
have never quite looked at ducks the same way since i first heard the yak-yak-kook story... and poor little match girl! i'd like to think that she is happier with her grandma, than with her wicked notherfaultshecouldsellnomatchesandwhatthefuckareYOUdoingnotprovisingforher dad.
and EEUUUUU to geli owndeadkittenlickin' cat. that is why dogs are ALWAYS better.
What's a geleked?
Well, my nieces read Disney-based fairy tales and want to be princesses. I tell them it's better to be the one slaying the dragon, more exciting than waiting by the window sill to be rescued but they want to wear pink and a tiara...
Snowdrop - Ya, Little Golden Books! That's them. I think can still get them at MPH but they're not quite the same anymore.
Amelia - Gelek = rolled flat :)
Ah well, you can only hope that those pink-frilled tiara-ed princesses will sit by the window devising recipes for slow-roasted dragons...and then proceed to go out and get them some dragons to roast! Should introduce them to the Drew Barrymore version of cinderella in Ever After.
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