Babar the elephant enjoys the beach, in youth; he digs in sand, with a little shell. The shell rests in a fold that he has created with his trunk. After the brutal murder of his mother, Babar retreats to Paris, where he briefly becomes distracted by an elevator in a department store. The kind intervention of an elderly Parisienne ensures that Babar will find his way: He learns about deportment, analytical thought, etc.
The king of the jungle dies; Babar must return to his ancestral lands. Here, he rules with grace; he loses his temper only once. That's not to say that life is placid. Awaiting the birth of one of his offspring, Babar can't focus; he must take a brisk walk, in an effort to cope with his nervousness. Also, foreign invaders rear their heads, at times. And Babar's hot-air balloon blows off course; there are moments of hunger, there is the temptation of despair.
A great fan of these stories, Maurice Sendak, has written eloquently about the subtext:
The precious sense of reason moves and excites me. Babar the very good little elephant deserves his kingdom. He is noble, and it is by preserving his inner worth that he gains his position in life. But the lessons are suggested in a tone so humorous, so engaging, that they are irresistible. The grace and graphic charm are almost sufficient in themselves, but to deny the message is to deny the full weight of de Brunhoff's genius....
Babar's story has been a source of comfort and inspiration for my family. Tipping my hat to de Brunhoff's son today; Laurent de Brunhoff was a colleague of Sendak's, and a gifted artist in his own way. Laurent died, recently, after a life of beautiful work. Many thanks.
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