Book Review: The Bumper Book
When I was little we had an old children’s book called The Bumper Book. I hadn’t thought of it in ages, but recently I was looking through Kathy’s impressive collection of children’s literature from the 1960s and before, and it occurred to me that The Bumper Book would make a fine addition. It properly belonged to kayigo-it was her third birthday present-but she kindly agreed to donate it to our library.
I read it for the first time in over 30 years. All I remembered about it was that it was aimed at little kids: Dr. Seuss age or just a bit older. Otherwise, I didn’t know what to expect-but even if I had, I would have been wrong. Surprised, and amused, I wrote the following review.
The Bumper Book, a collection of poems, songs and fables, is a wonderful example of mid-20th-century Americana. (Our copy was printed in 1961, and by then it was already touted as a “classic.”) I remember enjoying these stories as a child, and not thinking that anything was unusual about them, but as a 21st-century adult, I find the anachronisms more entertaining than the vignettes themselves.
The first thing a modern reader will notice, to quote Mystery Science Theater 3000, is that “America sure was a lot whiter back then.” Dozens of all-American boys and girls are pictured here, and they all look like they’ve just hopped off a boat from Sweden. (They dress like they’re from Sweden, too.) Nothing but rosy cheeks and transparent skin as far as they eye can see. Good thing all the scenes are set in the Midwest-the Arizona sun would have burnt these youngsters to a crisp in about thirty sizzling seconds.
Let's look closer at a few of the tales. In “We Won’t Tell,” we read how a budding farmer fails to get the message that if you plant a cabbage patch next door to a huge rabbit colony, you’d better set a 24-hour guard on that thing.
We can watch Edward Lear rhyme himself into a corner in “A Nonsense Alphabet”. The verse structure for each letter is like this:
F was once a little fish,
Fishy, Wishy, Swishy, Fishy,
In a dishy, Little fish!
All goes well right up until the letter Z. (In case you’re wondering, X was once a great King Xerxes-Xerxy, Perxy, Turxy, Xerxy.) Now the obvious thing for the letter Z to have once been was a zebra; but you can’t go rhyming zebra in the same manner without sounding all Russian-and Good Little American Boys and Girls never imitiate filthy Commies. Thus, we must resort to “Z was once a piece of zinc….” Of course, it’s impossible to draw a cute piece of zinc, so the illustrator added an adorable little mouse hiding behind it-perhaps he’s using it as a lean-to. I’ll give Mr. Lear a break on this one: in those post-Sputnik days, it was never to early to begin teaching your future rocket scientists about metallurgy.
Next, we listen to Christopher Robin saying his prayers, blessing his family, the servants and himself-because, it goes without saying, all Good Little American Boys and Girls are also Christian (real Christians, and not those idolatrous Papists). And rich enough to bestow their second-tier blessings on “the help.”
But the story that made the biggest impression on “grownup” me told the valuable lesson of “Little-Boy-Who-Was-Too-Thin.” This poor, sticklike child was “ten pounds underweight,” and so lacked the essential fat reserves all kids need to climb trees and “throw a ball fast and high.” You see, in those days, it was believed that muscle couldn’t work properly unless it was sheathed within a two-inch layer of Crisco.
Ostracized by the school nurse and all his classmates, LBWWTT takes a straw poll of all the animals in the farmyard to find out how he can fatten up and once again be accepted into polite society. Bunny Rabbit and Pudgy Pig and Dumpy Duck all provide a grocery list of their favorite meals, provided early and often by their benefactor, Farmer Brown (yes, that’s really his name). Alas, neither LBWWTT nor his plump advisors ever think to wonder why Farmer Brown was so generous with the slops.
LBWWTT has one more interview, with Dimply Dot, the girl next door. "How did you get so delectably obese?", he asks. Inexplicably, instead of slapping LBWWTT hard enough to send him into orbit,Dimply Dot smiled a dimply smile at him. She ran a little race with herself, and she danced a little dance with herself, and then she stopped with a hop and a jump in front of Little-Boy-Who-Was-Too-Thin. “Bread and butter and cereal, and soup, and cocoa,” said Dimply Dot, “and I run and play in the sunshine every day.”
Somebody better check Dot’s cocoa-sounds like she’s spiking her hot chocolate with a quadruple shot of espresso. Or perhaps a little nose candy.
Armed with a literal cornucopia of nutritional advice, LBWWTT (we never learn his real name) marches home and goes on a binge that would land any modern child in a program for eating disorders. A few days later-behold! Little-Boy-Who-Was-Too-Thin is not only was the heftiest kid in class, but somehow also the strongest and fastest. Take-home message: Fat is simply a more easily acquired form of muscle.*
In summary, I have an odd fondness for products that show off the innocence of ages past, and this one’s a beaut. I’m giving The Bumper Book a mere three stars because I don’t recommend it for modern-day children; my actual enjoyment of the work measures closer to four stars.
______________________
*I suspect the real subtext here was that obesity was still considered a status symbol-a holdover from the bad old days when being rich meant having enough to eat. Perhaps extreme slenderness was also shunned because really skinny children were particularly apt to die off of tuberculosis and heart defects and other nasty diseases.
The great irony here is that according to the pictures, even the properly “fat” children are all of perfectly healthy weight. Compared to today’s corpulent youngsters, they would look like the stick men LBWWTT was accused of resembling. But those poor, backwards 20th-century folk knew nothing about how to properly pack on the pounds. Since the nearest McDonald’s was probably four counties away, the best that Little-Boy-Who-Was-Too-Thin could manage was milk and cocoa, bread and butter, cornmeal mush, fruit and vegetables, and playing in the sunshine.
I read it for the first time in over 30 years. All I remembered about it was that it was aimed at little kids: Dr. Seuss age or just a bit older. Otherwise, I didn’t know what to expect-but even if I had, I would have been wrong. Surprised, and amused, I wrote the following review.
The Bumper Book, a collection of poems, songs and fables, is a wonderful example of mid-20th-century Americana. (Our copy was printed in 1961, and by then it was already touted as a “classic.”) I remember enjoying these stories as a child, and not thinking that anything was unusual about them, but as a 21st-century adult, I find the anachronisms more entertaining than the vignettes themselves.
The first thing a modern reader will notice, to quote Mystery Science Theater 3000, is that “America sure was a lot whiter back then.” Dozens of all-American boys and girls are pictured here, and they all look like they’ve just hopped off a boat from Sweden. (They dress like they’re from Sweden, too.) Nothing but rosy cheeks and transparent skin as far as they eye can see. Good thing all the scenes are set in the Midwest-the Arizona sun would have burnt these youngsters to a crisp in about thirty sizzling seconds.
Let's look closer at a few of the tales. In “We Won’t Tell,” we read how a budding farmer fails to get the message that if you plant a cabbage patch next door to a huge rabbit colony, you’d better set a 24-hour guard on that thing.
We can watch Edward Lear rhyme himself into a corner in “A Nonsense Alphabet”. The verse structure for each letter is like this:
F was once a little fish,
Fishy, Wishy, Swishy, Fishy,
In a dishy, Little fish!
All goes well right up until the letter Z. (In case you’re wondering, X was once a great King Xerxes-Xerxy, Perxy, Turxy, Xerxy.) Now the obvious thing for the letter Z to have once been was a zebra; but you can’t go rhyming zebra in the same manner without sounding all Russian-and Good Little American Boys and Girls never imitiate filthy Commies. Thus, we must resort to “Z was once a piece of zinc….” Of course, it’s impossible to draw a cute piece of zinc, so the illustrator added an adorable little mouse hiding behind it-perhaps he’s using it as a lean-to. I’ll give Mr. Lear a break on this one: in those post-Sputnik days, it was never to early to begin teaching your future rocket scientists about metallurgy.
Next, we listen to Christopher Robin saying his prayers, blessing his family, the servants and himself-because, it goes without saying, all Good Little American Boys and Girls are also Christian (real Christians, and not those idolatrous Papists). And rich enough to bestow their second-tier blessings on “the help.”
But the story that made the biggest impression on “grownup” me told the valuable lesson of “Little-Boy-Who-Was-Too-Thin.” This poor, sticklike child was “ten pounds underweight,” and so lacked the essential fat reserves all kids need to climb trees and “throw a ball fast and high.” You see, in those days, it was believed that muscle couldn’t work properly unless it was sheathed within a two-inch layer of Crisco.
Ostracized by the school nurse and all his classmates, LBWWTT takes a straw poll of all the animals in the farmyard to find out how he can fatten up and once again be accepted into polite society. Bunny Rabbit and Pudgy Pig and Dumpy Duck all provide a grocery list of their favorite meals, provided early and often by their benefactor, Farmer Brown (yes, that’s really his name). Alas, neither LBWWTT nor his plump advisors ever think to wonder why Farmer Brown was so generous with the slops.
LBWWTT has one more interview, with Dimply Dot, the girl next door. "How did you get so delectably obese?", he asks. Inexplicably, instead of slapping LBWWTT hard enough to send him into orbit,Dimply Dot smiled a dimply smile at him. She ran a little race with herself, and she danced a little dance with herself, and then she stopped with a hop and a jump in front of Little-Boy-Who-Was-Too-Thin. “Bread and butter and cereal, and soup, and cocoa,” said Dimply Dot, “and I run and play in the sunshine every day.”
Somebody better check Dot’s cocoa-sounds like she’s spiking her hot chocolate with a quadruple shot of espresso. Or perhaps a little nose candy.
Armed with a literal cornucopia of nutritional advice, LBWWTT (we never learn his real name) marches home and goes on a binge that would land any modern child in a program for eating disorders. A few days later-behold! Little-Boy-Who-Was-Too-Thin is not only was the heftiest kid in class, but somehow also the strongest and fastest. Take-home message: Fat is simply a more easily acquired form of muscle.*
In summary, I have an odd fondness for products that show off the innocence of ages past, and this one’s a beaut. I’m giving The Bumper Book a mere three stars because I don’t recommend it for modern-day children; my actual enjoyment of the work measures closer to four stars.
______________________
*I suspect the real subtext here was that obesity was still considered a status symbol-a holdover from the bad old days when being rich meant having enough to eat. Perhaps extreme slenderness was also shunned because really skinny children were particularly apt to die off of tuberculosis and heart defects and other nasty diseases.
The great irony here is that according to the pictures, even the properly “fat” children are all of perfectly healthy weight. Compared to today’s corpulent youngsters, they would look like the stick men LBWWTT was accused of resembling. But those poor, backwards 20th-century folk knew nothing about how to properly pack on the pounds. Since the nearest McDonald’s was probably four counties away, the best that Little-Boy-Who-Was-Too-Thin could manage was milk and cocoa, bread and butter, cornmeal mush, fruit and vegetables, and playing in the sunshine.