On this new blog, I also want to share some other things such as commentary and works that have influenced me, and maybe have the odd themed day or week. I can admit that there are some Ladybird Books that have influenced me with regards to my interest in folklore and which I also find interesting to look at from a design and illustration perspective. Looking around online, I stumbled across a blog called Being Mrs C, where the eponymous Mrs C posts about Ladybird books as part of a strand called Ladybird Tuesday. I can't see myself posting about Ladybird Books every Tuesday, but I thought it'd be interesting to examine some of my favourite Ladybird titles and share some pictures that otherwise are out-of-print and not on the internet.
I think that the original concept behind Ladybird Books, similar to the original concept behind Penguin Books, is a wonderful one - cheaply priced books aimed at educating and entertaining a wide readership without compromising on quality. In today's economic and cultural climate, I think we need it more than ever. Most of the Ladybird Books I ever had were their retellings of fairy tales, legends and classics. As I mentioned, I think that Ladybird Books definitely have influenced my interest in folklore and fantasy that continues to this day.
I think that the original concept behind Ladybird Books, similar to the original concept behind Penguin Books, is a wonderful one - cheaply priced books aimed at educating and entertaining a wide readership without compromising on quality. In today's economic and cultural climate, I think we need it more than ever. Most of the Ladybird Books I ever had were their retellings of fairy tales, legends and classics. As I mentioned, I think that Ladybird Books definitely have influenced my interest in folklore and fantasy that continues to this day.
Many of the fairy tales published by Ladybird were part of a series called “Well-Loved Tales”. As a child, I remember encountering some of the earlier “Well-Loved
Tales” titles from the 1960s and 70s which followed the traditional Ladybird format of text on one side of a spread and hyper-realistic illustration on the other. However, I
generally came to know the more stylised later editions published in the 1980s and 90s, with earlier titles re-illustrated and more stories added to the line-up. The newer illustrations aren’t always more successful, but I quite like them from a design perspective. The more varied styles and the use of spreads allow for more unique design opportunities to suit the story being told.
One of my favourite “Well-Loved Tales” growing up was their version of Pinocchio, first published in 1979 as one of the newer titles in the series. The copy I have now is
actually a copy I bought second-hand as an adult; my original copy bought for me in
the early 90s, complete with my 4 year-old name scribbled inside it, must have found itself en masse to a charity shop or lost after a
half dozen moves. The book is illustrated by Martin Aitchison, who illustrated many Ladybird books. It retells the classic Italian story by Carlo Collodi about a puppet come to life who must prove himself good enough to become a real boy.
While the re-telling by Audrey Daly inevitably suffers a bit from summarising a 200 page novel in less than 52 pages, it follows the plot of Carlo Collodi’s original far more closely than Walt Disney's 1940 film. As a child first introduced to the story by Disney, I remember being somewhat surprised at seeing how different (read: dark) this Ladybird book was compared to the Disney film, which is nonetheless one of Disney's eeriest films (and also one of my favourite films of all time, for that matter). Pinocchio randomly springs to life instead of being enchanted by the Blue Fairy, and spends the first part of the story running wild with no clothes on. Here we see the cricket (a nagging green insect far removed from loveable Jiminy Cricket) having a hammer thrown at him by a disgruntled Pinocchio...
Pinocchio at the Puppet Theatre |
While the re-telling by Audrey Daly inevitably suffers a bit from summarising a 200 page novel in less than 52 pages, it follows the plot of Carlo Collodi’s original far more closely than Walt Disney's 1940 film. As a child first introduced to the story by Disney, I remember being somewhat surprised at seeing how different (read: dark) this Ladybird book was compared to the Disney film, which is nonetheless one of Disney's eeriest films (and also one of my favourite films of all time, for that matter). Pinocchio randomly springs to life instead of being enchanted by the Blue Fairy, and spends the first part of the story running wild with no clothes on. Here we see the cricket (a nagging green insect far removed from loveable Jiminy Cricket) having a hammer thrown at him by a disgruntled Pinocchio...
...while here we see Pinocchio learning the hard way about what happens when you leave your feet too close to an open fireplace (especially if your feet happen to be made of wood).
Aitchison’s quaint pen-and-ink/watercolour style is quite well suited to the story, balancing the grotesque and the satirical nature of the story with a flavour of Northern Italy in the 19th Century. It's like a mix of mid-century boy's magazine, Central European fairy tale film and Arthur Rackham. Aitchison’s vision of Pinocchio himself is quite unique and has always reminded me of Dick
Van Dyke dressing as a puppet in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
I can imagine this version of Pinocchio may unnerve some children and adults, but ultimately, what do you expect from a story about a puppet who comes to life? Overall, based on my own childhood experiences, I think that this book would be a good introduction for young readers to the original story as untouched by Disney. I believe Ladybird recently reprinted the same text with new illustrations, but I haven't seen it to review it.
Pinocchio's nose grows as he tells a lie. |
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