National Post (National Edition)
Pence, Oliver and their bunny books
Above all else, respect the bunnies.
That’s my advice to latenight television host John Oliver and the family of U.S. Vice-President Mike Pence, both of whom have just released children’s books about Marlon Bundo — a charming real-life rabbit who lives as a pet in the Pence household.
In the Pence book — which was written by Vice-President Pence’s daughter Charlotte and illustrated by Pence’s wife, Karen — Marlon Bundo takes kids through a typical day in the life of the vice-president of the United States. From a bunny’s point of view, of course.
The realistic water colour illustrations depict Bundo as a dignified black and white creature (I’ve been away from rabbit circles for a while, but I think his coat qualifies as “broken agouti”), who is proud of his position as BOTUS (Bunny of the United States).
In the Oliver book — which was written by Last Week Tonight staffer Jill Twiss — Marlon Bundo is bored with life in the vice-presidential residence. However, things look up when falls in love with a bespectacled male lop rabbit. The two eventually get married, forming a happy same-sex bunny union. The Bundo in this book has a more cartoonish look — all bowtie and big smiles.
So far, the Oliver book is outselling the Pence book and, to the great amusement of many, is also outselling former FBI director James Comey’s memoir as an audio book on Audible’s charts. But the Pence book is still holding its own, and Amazon tells me that customers often buy the two books together, which while possibly leading to some confused children, is generally a healthy sign that no one’s taking any of this too seriously.
The part where the bunny battle becomes slightly ridiculous is when John Oliver suggests — as he did in an appearance on Ellen — that part of the impetus behind his team’s gay rabbit book was to help shape the way his two-yearold son sees the world, making things seem positive; more positive than they really are.
This is when I remember the very skeptical look my pet rabbit Randall used to give me when I was trying to convince her of something unlikely. Maybe I’d be cooing at her that the lame toy I’d just bought her — maybe wood pressed into the shape of a carrot — would be so much tastier than my baseboards.
“I don’t think so,” her impassive bunny face would say. Then she’d resume munching on the baseboards.
That’s how I feel about Oliver’s attempt to make his bunny book gag a solemn statement of hope and respect.
Whatever Mike Pence’s personal transgressions may be, his daughter’s bunny book is not in any way homophobic or intolerant or negative. No kid reading it would come away with a less posi- tive view of the world, though they might end up with a modestly improved understanding of U.S. civics.
And in terms of respecting the bunnies goes, anyone who knows real rabbits knows that they are happiest in male-female bonded pairs! I say this as someone who had a male-female bonded bunny pair for 11 years — the aforementioned Randall and Harley (who really did have a broken agouti coat). (That their names make it sound like Harley and Randall would have been candidates for a gay bunny wedding is merely a reflection of how difficult it is to identify the sex of baby bunnies.)
Seriously, it’s lovely to try to teach our kids to be accepting and open, but one has to ask: does trolling a perfectly respectable children’s book and inserting an anthropomorphic same-sex romance actually do that? Might not the more accepting and open approach be the one Charlotte Pence seems to have taken, which is not to criticize or rail against the Oliver book, but rather to express her happiness about both books existing and generating money for charity?
Besides, in the final analysis, the Pence Bunny Mundo is a far more dutiful visual depiction of real rabbits, who are sparing in their expressions of happiness. When bunnies do show pleasure, it’s with a subtle eye twinkle or a quick binkie (a distinctive jump/ twist of joy), never a wide grin. The Pence Bunny Mundo illustrations capture that inscrutable expression that rabbits wear most of the time, making them look stately or bored.
The Oliver visual depiction of Bunny Mundo is sloppily cheerful and as unrealistic as two boy rabbits politely tying the knot.
That’s not a homophobic statement. It’s a statement made by someone who has observed that true rabbit romance often involves the happy couple snorting and humping each other’s heads.
Which is maybe why sexual politics is usually handled in arenas other than kids’ bunny picture books. And why it should probably stay there.