Sometimes I pick up kids books to give to my nieces and nephew. I always skim through them first, because... well, because. This latest one kind of creeped me out.
The Clown of God by Tomie de Paola is nicely illustrated and relatively well written. It's about a clown/jester named Giovanni who made a living since he was a child by juggling whatever. Eventually, he became old and people didn't stop to watch his performances anymore, so he gave it up. He finds himself on a cold winter day seeking shelter in a church. When he wakes, services are in progress with a full house, and he is told that it's Christmas - the Procession of Gifts. Giovanni is sad that he has nothing to give (everyone has left by now), but notices that the Christ child statue has a pretty stoic, dour expression. He realizes that he can give the gift of a smile to the child, and proceeds to put on his old costume and make-up and performs his little old heart out. Then he dies. A priest sees him on the floor and rushes to his aid, looks up, and sees the Christ child statue smiling.
It's a nice little story, right? So why am I soooo creeped out by a Christ child statue grinning his little ears off when an old man falls dead at his feet? Hm... not sure.
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2 comments:
I'm creeped out that the jester lost his worth when he grew up. Why don't mature folk garner the same accolades youth does? Why? Why?
It's adorable when a baby makes a face while soiling himself, but when gramma does it, it's just sad. Why?
Earlier this week I flipped through a "Henny Penny" book for the 'ittle kids, it was cute and all... but it ended with a fox family having just eaten, if you know what I mean. Careepee. I know it's the law of nature and all, but I don't think the evil lip-smackin' looks on their faces were necessary.
Reminds me of an episode of "Black Books" where Manny and Bernard try to write a kids book. They do, but then in their drunkeness they fear the wealth and fame it'll bring, so burn it. I guess you had to "be there."
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