Sad reply to gift of Dr Seuss books
Poor Melania Trump, trying to get her head round the role of first lady, sent a gift of books to elementary schools in 50 states for National Read a Book Day.
Her message spoke of every page taking you ‘‘on an exciting journey’’ and the books are by Dr Seuss, long partnered with the United States literacy campaign. There was one Melania had read to her own son.
It is hard to think of a more harmlessly benign gesture, even if the poor woman is married to Donald Trump.
But that could not be forgiven by one school librarian in Cambridge, Massachusetts, Liz Phipps Soeiro. In a long open letter she thanked the first lady – with a sneer about the wasteful postage – but said that while her pupils liked the ‘‘beautiful bookplates with your name and the indelible White House stamp’’, they would not keep them. First, because more deprived schools have greater need, though even hers struggles ‘‘to retain teachers of colour and dismantle the systemic white supremacy’’. Second, because Melania’s favourite is ‘‘a cliche, a tired and worn ambassador for children’s literature. Dr Seuss’ illustrations are steeped in racist propaganda, caricatures and harmful stereotypes.’’
She patronisingly gives another list. There’s Auntie Yang’s Great Soybean Picnic and a tale of a Cuban girl defying a taboo on female drummers. There’s one about a kite battle in Pakistan (the hero using a wheelchair is ‘‘incidental’’). There’s another about a crayon labelled red who colours blue (transgender identity, get it?).
They may be excellent. But the Left-liberal piety of the list and Soeiro’s letter have a grim and quelling quality.
The Seuss-is-racist angle needs unpicking. Real American racism, especially after Charlottesville and Ferguson, creates a neurotic hypersensitivity. The fashionable targeting of Seuss is part of that, even though Michelle Obama read him to her daughters.
Theodor Seuss Geisel was originally an advertising cartoonist in the 1940s who, like many others, used ‘‘blackface’’ and other ethnic shortcuts in his work. So, last week the magazine Business Insider leapt on the bandwagon, bewailing his ‘‘deeply disturbing’’ drawings and warning of ‘‘sad, racist ads’’.
So, I looked at them. Most are for the insecticide Flit. In one, Robinson Crusoe politely asks a chap in a grass skirt on an island if he can join him and is told to go back for some Flit. In another, an Arab is praying for rain to deter the flies, while a white pasha on a camel (equally caricatured) demands Flit. Elsewhere an Arab, traditionally dressed and competently riding a camel loaded with planks, illustrates a company’s boast: ‘‘Even if you’re building in the desert we’ll get your materials there on time’’.
Oh, and there’s a cartoon of Hirohito, snag-toothed and sliteyed. But hell, it was the 1940s. People were scared. And his Adolf Hitler is grossly unflattering too. Anyway, in no time at all Seuss was drawing the famous piano cartoon of Uncle Sam saying: ‘‘Look, maestro, if you want to get harmony, use the black keys as well as the white.’’
Seuss said he never started with morals – ‘‘kids can see a moral coming a mile off’’ – but noted that all stories had one. His Yertle the Turtle mocks fascist leadership, as the over-ambitious turtle is capsized trying to reach the Moon. The Grinch and Lorax condemn materialism and pollution. They’re dated but fun – not ‘‘harmful’’ propaganda.
The librarian’s rejection was hastily disowned by her school board, but there is a wider battle to fight. A battle for fantasy and nonsense, for different perspectives – for entering into other lives and attitudes past and present.
When you’re two, the very joy of words and jokes connects you to another’s imagination and to the wider world. When you’re six, stories about medieval knights or Victorian explorers can help your own struggles. Black or white, boy or girl, wizard or muggle, you need many doors to many worlds.