At one time, Tomi Ungerer enjoyed great fame as a writer for children. Then, librarians somewhere discovered Ungerer had a past: In another life, he had done many erotic drawings (in addition to some incisive anti-war art). The soft-core porn was apparently troubling enough to move childcare specialists to remove Ungerer's work from bookshelves. And it's only recently that Ungerer has had a bit of a renaissance. (This is the kind of trivia you pick up when you're an elementary-school teacher.)
"The Three Robbers," an Ungerer picture book, begins in an unusual spot. The titular robbers have a standard routine: They have a blunderbuss, an axe, and a pepper-sprayer, and they use these tools to terrorize wealthy villagers. (It's weird to have these people as protagonists in a children's book.) In the Ordinary World of the robbers, an axe is great for immobilizing a carriage, a pepper-sprayer ensures that the horses are temporarily blinded, and a blunderbuss allows you to make credible threats. You take your coins and your "precious stones," and you move on.
It's important, too, to note that the robbers wear tall, black, rounded hats and long flowing capes. These men look a bit like penises, and you can't help but spot that if you're aware of Ungerer's past--and the penis issue will come up at the end, as well.
A stranger comes to town. It's the little orphan Tiffany, and she's en route to live with her wicked aunt (and she's not happy about that). Tiffany--with a child's unclouded eyes--sees great potential in the robbers. She finds them delightful. And so, moved by Tiffany's generosity, the robbers are inspired to get their act together.
When Tiffany finds the "precious stones," she confronts the robbers about their past. And the robbers understand that they must make restitution. They haven't been doing anything constructive with their wealth; they just amass piles and piles of glittery stuff, like glazed-eyed CEOs stumbling through empty days in Manhattan skyscrapers.
It seems not to occur to Ungerer--or to the robbers--to return the coins to their rightful owners. Instead, in "Robin Hood" fashion, the robbers use their wealth to build an enormous castle for orphans. The children flood in; they wear tiny red hats and cloaks, and they remain within the walls of the castle until they are old enough to marry. Little villas sprout up around the castle; alums of the former-robbers'-academy seem not to want to stray very far. After the death of the robbers, the alums want to celebrate this strange reformation-of-character story, so they erect three giant (penis-ish) towers, each shaped like a robber with his flowing gown and tall, rounded cap.
You can "get deep." You can notice that the robbers retain their iconic wardrobe even after they renounce their wicked ways; their "dark side," their past, seems to trail them, always. You can wonder if the phallic imagery is deliberate, if Ungerer is celebrating sex in a playful way. (There's something very childlike about doodling penises within architectural blueprints.)
You could go down these roads, but I prefer just to enjoy the constant flux in this story. Any writer worth his salt should throw some twists your way. The first time I picked up this book, I was startled to be in the presence of these menacing robbers, and I did not see Tiffany coming. I couldn't have predicted that we'd end in a world of strong fraternal and sororal bonds, with a large "invented family." The moral seems to be: Children are wiser than adults. And: You can't anticipate what life has in store for you. Who could argue with this? Ungerer thought in a unique way; his way of seeing the world differed from many "adult" viewpoints; and he made his eccentricity into a gift, and left it for us in the form of this strange and absorbing book.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5KC5aoMX1M
P.S. Do you detect a whiff of yay-for-socialism in this story? I imagine that's deliberate/intentional.
"The Three Robbers," an Ungerer picture book, begins in an unusual spot. The titular robbers have a standard routine: They have a blunderbuss, an axe, and a pepper-sprayer, and they use these tools to terrorize wealthy villagers. (It's weird to have these people as protagonists in a children's book.) In the Ordinary World of the robbers, an axe is great for immobilizing a carriage, a pepper-sprayer ensures that the horses are temporarily blinded, and a blunderbuss allows you to make credible threats. You take your coins and your "precious stones," and you move on.
It's important, too, to note that the robbers wear tall, black, rounded hats and long flowing capes. These men look a bit like penises, and you can't help but spot that if you're aware of Ungerer's past--and the penis issue will come up at the end, as well.
A stranger comes to town. It's the little orphan Tiffany, and she's en route to live with her wicked aunt (and she's not happy about that). Tiffany--with a child's unclouded eyes--sees great potential in the robbers. She finds them delightful. And so, moved by Tiffany's generosity, the robbers are inspired to get their act together.
When Tiffany finds the "precious stones," she confronts the robbers about their past. And the robbers understand that they must make restitution. They haven't been doing anything constructive with their wealth; they just amass piles and piles of glittery stuff, like glazed-eyed CEOs stumbling through empty days in Manhattan skyscrapers.
It seems not to occur to Ungerer--or to the robbers--to return the coins to their rightful owners. Instead, in "Robin Hood" fashion, the robbers use their wealth to build an enormous castle for orphans. The children flood in; they wear tiny red hats and cloaks, and they remain within the walls of the castle until they are old enough to marry. Little villas sprout up around the castle; alums of the former-robbers'-academy seem not to want to stray very far. After the death of the robbers, the alums want to celebrate this strange reformation-of-character story, so they erect three giant (penis-ish) towers, each shaped like a robber with his flowing gown and tall, rounded cap.
You can "get deep." You can notice that the robbers retain their iconic wardrobe even after they renounce their wicked ways; their "dark side," their past, seems to trail them, always. You can wonder if the phallic imagery is deliberate, if Ungerer is celebrating sex in a playful way. (There's something very childlike about doodling penises within architectural blueprints.)
You could go down these roads, but I prefer just to enjoy the constant flux in this story. Any writer worth his salt should throw some twists your way. The first time I picked up this book, I was startled to be in the presence of these menacing robbers, and I did not see Tiffany coming. I couldn't have predicted that we'd end in a world of strong fraternal and sororal bonds, with a large "invented family." The moral seems to be: Children are wiser than adults. And: You can't anticipate what life has in store for you. Who could argue with this? Ungerer thought in a unique way; his way of seeing the world differed from many "adult" viewpoints; and he made his eccentricity into a gift, and left it for us in the form of this strange and absorbing book.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5KC5aoMX1M
P.S. Do you detect a whiff of yay-for-socialism in this story? I imagine that's deliberate/intentional.
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