This short picture book is aimed at children, but I’m not sure
which children. It starts with the observation that "Sometimes
a person needs a quiet place," with a picture of a small
boy, maybe seven years old, looking rather shy and overwhelmed.
The city in the illustration seems to be set in the late 1940s
or early 1950s, judging from the cars and clothing of the women
in the street.

When the boy finds various quiet places, he can pretend to be
other figures. He goes under a bush, on a wood stump in the woods,
on the beach, in the desert, by a pond, in a cavern, on the top
of a hill, on a snowdrift, in a museum, and a corner of a library.
In these quiet places, he imagines himself as a pirate, a timber
wolf, an explorer, a Pony Express rider, a fisherman, a cave dweller,
a mountain climber, a polar bear, and an artist.

The message of the book is that wherever you are, you can find
a quiet place inside of yourself; a picture of an ancient stone
temple in the background behind the boy reading on his bed emphasizes
the hint of Buddhism. The message in itself seems sensible and
interesting, something worth pointing out to small children.

But there are two features of the book that deserve comment. First,
the illustrations are detailed paintings, maybe deliberately old
fashioned, harkening back to another time. As a style of painting,
I’m not sure that children today, used to very different forms
of representation, will particularly like these. Of course some
will, but I suspect that they will be unusual children.

The second point is related to the first: most obviously, the
subject matter of the fantasized roles are aimed at boys rather
than girls, and the pictures are of men. But even as male role
models, the ones here are not the ones that come to mind today
– firemen, policemen, computer programmers, CEOs, lawyers, doctors,
presidents, detectives or sports players. They are the kinds of
models I know I had very little interest as a child; they bring
to mind Robert Bly’s call
for the reassertion of masculinity that gained so much attention
about ten years ago.

It might be a little paranoid to imagine political motivations
behind a picture book for boys; the content might simply be a
reflection of the personal tastes of the author. But it does mean
that unless my child was already keen on pirates, explorers, and
cave dwellers, I’d think twice before buying him this book.

© 2002 Christian Perring. First Serial Rights.

Christian Perring,
Ph.D., is Chair of the Philosophy Department at Dowling College,
Long Island. He is editor of Metapsychology Online Review.
His main research is on philosophical issues in psychiatry.
He is especially interested in exploring how philosophers can
play a greater role in public life, and he is keen to help foster
communication between philosophers, mental health professionals,
and the general public.

Categories: Fiction

Keywords: juvenile fiction, solitude