Bullish on Ferdinand

The Story of Ferdinand, an iconic children's book by Munro Leaf, didn't enter my consciousness until adulthood when, attracted by the bright red cover, I bought it as a gift. But Robert Lawson's illustrations are so artful that I asked Thom if we could stop in Amherst to see the originals en route to Quechee for Independence Day.

The Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art is celebrating the 90th anniversary of the book's publication with Under the Cork Tree: The Story of Ferdinand. Founded in 2002 by the man best known for writing and illustrating The Very Hungry Caterpillar, the museum also served as a cooling station and picnic site on a brutally hot day.

Nobody read to Thom as a child but he enjoyed the exhibit enough to purchase a sleeved copy of the book for a future grandniece or nephew.  Actually, Ferdinand reminds me a lot of Thom who always has insisted on going his own way, although he has never been a shade-seeker.

Nearly a century after the book's publication--which coincided with the Spanish Civil War--it can be a little hard to discern the intentions of the book's creators.  Does the presence of a vulture atop a tree marking Ferdinand's growth suggest he doesn't have long to live because his destiny is a ring where he likely will be gored to death?  Or does it symbolize the rise of fascism in Europe?  Neither Franco nor Hitler had any doubt:  they both banned the book.

Ferdinand leaves the head butting and ground pawing to other young bulls but he ends up in the ring anyway because of a roving band of matadors, his enormous size and a random bee sting.  Lawson illustrates the events almost cinematically in a sequence that could have been storyboarded by Alfred Hitchcock.  Text isn't even really necessary.

"Ferdinand knew that they wouldn't pick him and he didn't care."

Then, in tight close-up, a bee appears, positioned between his rump and swinging tail.

"He didn't look where he was sitting..."

Cut to Ferdinand's face as he experiences the initial shock of the sting with widened eyes and flared nostrils

"Well, if you were a bumble bee and a bull sat on you what would you do?"

. . .  before he jumps reflexively

"Ferdinand jumped up with a snort."

. . . attracting the attention of predatory matadors who mistake his actions for a fighting spirit and take him away to Madrid.   

"The five men saw him and they all shouted with joy."

But instead of charging a red flag in the ring, Ferdinand prefers sniffing the flowers protruding from the women's hats.  The matadors send him back to pasture.   While I embrace pacifism philosophically, the story can just as easily be taken at face value--in a world of random events, remaining true to yourself is a good thing--which explains why the charismatic bull became a 20th century commercial juggernaut with lots and lots of merch!

Pinning a tail on Ferdinand seems inadvisable considering his reaction to the bee sting.

Walt Disney broadened the book's appeal with a short animated film in which he voiced Ferdinand's mother in a fluting voice.  It won an Oscar in 1938.  You can watch Lawson's unique artistry sanded down into slapstick and stereotype on You Tube.  Disney, whom some accused of Nazi sympathies (he gave Leni Riefenstahl a tour of his studios), eliminated the vulture.  Just sayin'.

Production Sketch (1938)

Or maybe Uncle Walt feared political controversy would reduce sales of his "own game."

The illustrations are on loan from the Morgan Library, where Mary Flager Cary donated them. She's the granddaughter of the man responsible for the development of south Florida and the settlement of Palm Beach in particular.

We checked out the other galleries, too, including another terrific exhibit, Soul, Sound & Voice: The Art of Jerry Pinkney. His work embraces both the imagined

"The Grasshopper and the Ants" (2015)

. . . and the seldom-seen realistic.

"The Sunday Outing"  (1994)

Carle himself drew this cat

 

and painted the bright murals that decorate the lobby.

(detail)