The Low Countries. Jaargang 3

(1995-1996)– [tijdschrift] The Low Countries– rechtenstatus

The Richness of Imagination
Children's Books in the Netherlands

Alice, Pinocchio and Remi had long been world-famous when Dik Trom, born in 1892, was still sitting calmly facing backwards on his Dutch mule. His father regarded Dik as ‘a special child, and that's for sure’, but defying the village policeman remains the greatest claim to fame of this national hero created by C.J. Kieviet. Top Naeff's School Idylls (Schoolidyllen, 1900) was equally unsuccessful in achieving international standing, in spite of the painful death of its protagonist Jet van Maerle. And while Afke's Ten (Afke's tiental, 1903), the gripping story of the life of a Frisian working-class family recorded by the socialist Nienke van Hichtum through the mouth of her housemaid, briefly made it to the international top ten of books with a strong emotional impact, the bravery and tenacity of J.B. Schuil's The Katjangs (De Katjangs, 1912) remained a purely national affair.

Were the characters and situations in these books too ‘Dutch’ for young readers in France, Germany or England? Or was the problem that Dutch publishers in the first half of the twentieth century were fully occupied importing literary treasures from abroad? After the Second World War the situation gradually began to change. Annie Schmidt's Bob and Jilly (Jip en Janneke) and Jean Dulieu's Paulus the Wood Gnome (Paulus de boskabouter) were not yet completely ready for a ‘grand tour’, but the Children on the Oregon Trail (De kinderkaravaan, 1949) and Avalanche! (Lawines razen, 1954) by An Rutgers van der Loeff, or Miep Diekmann's The Haunted Island (De boten van Brakkeput, 1956) attracted worldwide attention on the back of the emerging ideas of brotherhood between nations. They were soon joined by Dick Bruna's colourful little books and the imaginative tales of Paul Biegel.

In recent years Dutch authors and illustrators have become firmly established figures in the international literary trade. In the words of the travel guides, the modern Dutch children's book is ‘different, witty, innovative, courageous and also literary’. A climate change has taken place in the Netherlands which has created room for experiments with language, imagery and imagination. The ghost of moral edification appears to have been laid for ever by the revolution in form. Children nowadays are brought up on a diet of exciting images and inspired words.

Jean Dulieu, Paulus the Wood Gnome (Paulus de boskabouter).

Naturally not all Dutch children's books are renewing and successful, but compared to their adult brothers and sisters writers such as Paul Biegel, Guus Kuijer, Annie Schmidt and Jan Terlouw perform extremely well. Their books are published in more than ten languages and enjoy high print runs; Anke de Vries, Rindert Kromhout and Harrie Geelen are well-loved by readers in Spain, Italy and Sweden. Dutch children's literature, once an unknown lowland terrain, now attracts the attention of large numbers of foreigners who want to see all these fine things for themselves. Specially for them, I have put together a brief travel guide describing the main tourist attractions, streets, statues and monuments.

Two monuments

On the finest and largest square in the Netherlands, in the heart of Amsterdam, our national monument towers above us. Annie M.G. Schmidt, who died in May 1995, was the ‘true Queen of the Netherlands’ (see The Low Countries 1994-95: 18-24), the author of innumerable verses, stories, musicals and radio plays on which every Dutch boy and girl was brought up. Her brain produced Minnie (Minoes, 1970), the schoolteacher who is actually a cat, as well as Otje (1980), the girl who, all by herself, takes on the might of bureaucracy, and Pluk, the boy who helps animals and children in need with his red breakdown lorry (Pluk van de Petteflet, 1971).

Wicked tongues claim that it was Annie Schmidt who turned the Dutch into a nation of drug-users and telephone box vandals, but this seems to be an exaggeration of the power of the sparkling-fresh children's verses she wrote in the fifties:

Annie M.G. Schmidt, Bob and Jilly (Jip en Janneke), drawn by Fiep Westendorp.

 
Nuff! I won't do what they say!
 
Not one more ‘how d'you do?’
 
Or ‘yes Miss Green’ and ‘yes Mr Grey’
 
Don't want to say those things all day...
 
Not ever again, it's really true!
 
I'll put my nose up in the air -
 
I won't say anything back, so there!
 
(Translated by Bev Jackson)

Her protest was more in the way of a naughty game, more a dream of freedom than an incitement to anarchy. Her contrariness - seen more than anything as a breath of fresh air following the suppression of the war years - is still able to stimulate the imagination of children and adults today, forty years later. Kings who refuse to take their medicine, princes who keep asking for chocolate or wander the streets in their nightclothes, and Mr Sweet, who washes his feet in the aquarium every Saturday, all evoke dreams of freedom and hope.

It was not only Annie Schmidt's ideas that went against the established order, but also her language. It was traditional but at the same time revolutionary, related to the old nursery rhymes and yet still understandable. Unusual rhyming couplets dance through her work together with exuberant neologisms. Schmidt took the dreams and longings of children seriously, set her face against the restricting bonds of edification and took every opportunity to poke fun at authority. When she was presented with the Hans Christian Andersen Award by Astrid Lindgren in 1988, it became clear how closely related these two ladies were and her work was able to begin its onward march once more.

A broad boulevard leads from the Annie Schmidt monument to Dick Bruna Square. Here we see a monument in red, green and blue in which Mondrian, Miro and Matisse can all be recognised. These colours betray Bruna's childish pleasure in simplicity. Although the spontaneity of his colour range is contained to some extent by the carefully drawn contour lines, the lack of perspective gives his figures a universal recognisability. Miffy, Peggy Piglet, Boris and Barbara, all drawn with big round heads and fat little bodies, with short arms and legs, appeal to the reader's feelings of endearment. They are pictograms representing a world in which a child can feel safe.

Bruna likes working for children because he feels a bond with them, ‘because they are so direct, so honest and critical’. His work has been translated into a host of languages and has found its way to every corner of the world. It contains more than seventy titles of which around fifty are continuously in print. Many of the illustrations have been given a second existence on bags, babies' bibs, calendars, cups, building blocks or pullovers. In Japan his work is so popular that special Bruna shops have been set up. Dick Bruna is a pictorial artist first and a writer second, but it would be difficult to find anyone among the reading public of the world who has not come across his work.

Four statues

These two monuments are flanked by statues of rather more recent date. On Bruna's right hand stands Max Velthuijs, an artist from the early 1960s and the creator of picture books such as The Boy and the Fish (De jongen en de vis, 1978) and Frog in Love (Kikker is verliefd, 1989) which have sold more than one hundred and fifty thousand copies worldwide. His coloration and deceptive simplicity show his kinship with the CoBrA group of artists. His ‘paintings’ have become more subtle through the years, less heavily lined, and have acquired a greater emotionality. Frog, duck, fox, pig, hare and elephant

illustratie

Dick Bruna, Miffy (Nijntje) (© Mercis BV. 1988).

Max Velthuijs, two pages of Frog in Love (Kikker is verliefd, 1989).

Wim Hofman, The Raft (Het vlot, 1988).

think and act like human beings, wrestling with serious issues such as solidarity and friendship.

On the left stands Wim Hofman, a companion in coloration, childishness and non-conformist thinking, and strongly inspired by the nonsense of Edward Lear. His stories are full of the sound of the sea and everything associated with it: birds, fish, wind and waves, shells, the sky, islands and loneliness. The soberness of his descriptions gives his language enormous power. Hofman also occupies a special position as a pictorial artist. His colourful paintings and his pen-drawings often have a strongly alienating character. There are chests that walk, run, fall, stumble; coats that fly and houses that fall down. But there is also a recognisable reality in his work. The Raft (Het vlot, 1988), which was inspired by Huckleberry Finn, tells about the time after the War when everyone, including children, had to build a new life. A Good Hiding and Other Stories (Straf en andere verhalen, 1985) portrays the loneliness of children living an unprotected existence. His somewhat sombre view of life is tempered by the possibilities of the dream and the magic of his language. In everything he does Hofman betrays his origins as an island-dweller. Anyone wishing to participate in his imaginary world will have to wander around on his island for a little while.

Annie Schmidt Square is enhanced by statues of Paul Biegel and Tonke Dragt. Both are richly gifted with Anglo-Saxon humour, fairy-tale images and exotic fantasies.

Paul Biegel is the most outspoken representative of the Dutch fantasy story. His is a world inhabited by dwarves, princesses, witches, robbers and talking animals; his stories are set in ruined castles, noisy inns, dark woods,

Paul Biegel and illustrator Carl Hollander (Photo Letterkundig Museum, The Hague).

dreamy gardens and lonely beaches. Against this fairy-tale backdrop, Biegel attempts to solve the riddle of human existence. In addition to sparkling reworkings of classics from world literature he also appealed to the imagination with the adventures of The Little Captain (De kleine kapitein, 1970), who ‘with legs wide apart and eyes on the horizon’ guides his ship over the wild seas. Love which moves mountains and the universal urge for freedom were given their own form in ingeniously composed masterpieces such as The King of the Copper Mountains (Het sleutelkruid, 1964), The Gardens of Dorr (De tuinen van Dorr, 1969), The Ginger Princess (De rode prinses, 1987) and Night Tales (Nachtverhaal, 1992).

The author and illustrator Tonke Dragt has a predilection for the link between the visible and the invisible, the puzzling and the obvious. The philosophical slant of her themes evokes associations with the work of Tolkien and makes her books attractive to readers who like a story they can get their teeth into. Her thick novels have an ‘invented’ historical character (e.g. Letter for the King - De brief voor de koning, 1962) or take place in the future (as in The Towers of February - De torens van februari, 1986 or The Eyes of Tigers - Ogen van tijgers, 1982). On the Other Side of the Door (Aan de andere kant van de deur, 1992) is the first part of what together with The Road to the Cell (De weg naar de cel) is intended to become a magnum opus on the relativity of time and space, on the dimensions of music and beauty, on semblance and reality, but also on the finding of one's own identity in the chaos of life's events.

Solidarity with children

Along the boulevard linking the two squares we find Guus Kuijer and Joke van Leeuwen, two writers who are rarely mentioned in the same breath, but who are nonetheless extremely well matched.

It is difficult to say what Guus Kuijer derives his greatest fame from, his liberating manner of writing or his essay collection The Despised Child (Het

Tonke Dragt's drawing for the cover of her book The Secret of the Seventh Road (De Zevensprong, 1966).

Guus Kuijer, as seen by one of his readers (Photo Letterkundig Museum, The Hague)

geminachte kind, 1980), in which he lambasts adults for losing their childishness. As an admirer and pupil of Annie Schmidt he takes the side of the children for whom he writes, both in his choice of themes and in his language. Titles such as Daisy's New Head (Met de poppen gooien, 1975), Grown-Ups Should Be Made into Soup (Grote mensen daar kan je beter soep van koken, 1976), On Your Head in the Rubbish Bin (Op je kop in de prullenbak, 1977) and A Head Full of Macaroni (Een hoofd vol macaroni, 1979) suggest an attack on the established order, but Kuijer never does this in a programmatic way. He regards solidarity with children as being more important than any message, because ‘a writer must not seek to edify (...). Writing and edification get in each other's way. How can you write if you are trying to edify? Literature is exploring the terrain, not pointing the way.’

The highpoint of his work is Scratches on the Table Top (Krassen in het tafelblad, 1978), a small, tightly structured novel about Madelief's grandmother, the mother of her mother whom she never knew. Since she died, Grandpa has been very lonely and Madelief spends a lot of time with him. Through this contact she discovers that her grandmother was never happy. She would have preferred to travel rather than spend her whole life shut away in a small village and in a house which she kept clean to drive away the boredom. Kuijer unfolds this complex situation with humour, sobriety and commitment.

Joke van Leeuwen possesses a comparable wilfulness. Like Hofman and

The Tjong Khing's drawing for the cover of Guus Kuijer's Duck by Duck (Eend voor eend, 1983).

Dragt, she writes and draws; text and drawings enter into a true dialogue in her work. Both are based on associations, of one emotion with another, of the literal with the figurative. Words and images are of absolutely equal importance. They are products of the same pen, often created in a flowing transition so that her drawings, notes, splotches, arrows and diagrams form a gateway to the winding paths behind the words. The Story of Bobble Who Wanted to Become Rich (Het verhaal van Bobbel die in een bakfiets woonde en rijk wilde worden, 1987) bears witness to a view of the world in which everything is in a continuous state of motion and there are always more possibilities than you think:

‘There wasn't a lot of room for three people in the tricycle-van. But there was always a different view from the windows because they were always on the move. They were always on the move because they wanted to go somewhere that they could leave again afterwards, or because they were being chased away from somewhere else, or because they wanted to use the lights in the van. These only worked if someone was pedalling the tricycle.’

(Translated by Lance Salway)

The Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Willem Wilmink, drawn by Waldemar Post (Photo Letterkundig Museum, The Hague).

Crossing the boulevard linking Schmidt and Bruna is the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. It was built later than the other boulevard and offers an even stronger mix of fantasy and reality. On the left-hand side we find Willem Wilmink and Toon Tellegen, on the right the Heymans sisters, Imme Dros and Els Pelgrom. These authors each have their own highly individual character; what they share is their devotion to the word and their care for form.

The writing of Willem Wilmink, like Annie Schmidt an admirer of the eighteenth-century children's poet Hieronymus van Alphen, is very firmly anchored in the world of the child. The inside of the child's soul, the emotions and fears of children, are explored in an outside world which is quite contemporary and which is subjected to a critical examination. His rhyming verse is highly suited to a musical interpretation, e.g. That Happens to Everyone (Dat overkomt iedereen wel, 1973) and I Understand It (Ik snap het, 1993). Together with Hans Dorrestijn, Karel Eykman, Ries Moonen and Fetze Pijlman he set up a writers' collective in the 1970s; for these writers poetry is not ‘the most individual expression of the most individual emotion’ but is a form of emotional socialism, of protest against social injustice and of indignation at the suppression of children. In the same spirit they wrote television screenplays such as De Stratemakeropzeeshow (televised in the seventies) and the J.J. de Bom-show, voorheen de kindervriend (in the eighties), in which children were consoled and taboos were broken.

Toon Tellegen introduced a new note into the ways of the imagination. His ultra-short, enigmatic animal tales in Not a Day Passed (Er ging geen dag voorbij, 1984), When Nobody Had Anything to Do (Toen niemand iets te doen had, 1987), Slowly, as Fast as They Could (Langzaam, zo snel als zij konden, 1989) have a pronounced poetic and sometimes absurd character. His animals defy the laws of biology whilst at the same time remaining faithful to them. The nightingale sings his song and the toad puffs up as he should, but squirrels write letters or drink cups of tea with ants and elephants. The animals behave as people and animals at the same time. In a non-existent habitat of woodland, river, desert and mountains whose dimensions are impossible to determine, they occupy themselves with the remarkable activity known as life. They write letters, organise parties, sit in the sun, think their thoughts and hold more or less coherent conversations. There is a general atmosphere of contentment in which vague longings now and again raise their heads. Tellegen's literary wanderings are melancholy and poetic in tone, but not inaccessible. They are briefly beautiful, but you never know precisely how long they will keep it up and in which direction they will go.

On the right-hand side of the boulevard the sisters Margriet and Annemie Heymans demonstrate their special talents. Both are trained in the theory and practice of art. Both write and draw, individually and together. The Princess in the Kitchen Garden (De prinses in de moestuin, 1991) is to date the high-spot of their collaboration. It is a moving and remarkable picture story about loss and standing up for yourself, about love and being lost, about seeking and finding. Since Mummy died, Hanna and Lutje Matte have lived alone with their father in the big house with the garden. Because

Daddy is so sad, he buries himself in paperwork and Hanna has to take care of everything. This makes her so cross and unhappy that she hides in Mummy's kitchen garden; Lutje Matte compensates for his sadness by dreaming about Princess Rosa. Until one night a great storm brings these three lonely people together and they are able to make a new beginning. The left-hand pages were drawn and painted by Margriet, with Annemie doing the right-hand pages. All the illustrations, both coloured and black-and-white, portray the nightmares and uncertainties with which the characters in this story wrestle.

Not far away on this boulevard stands Annelie in the Depths of the Night (Annetje Lie in het holst van de Nacht, 1988) by Imme Dros, in some respects a forerunner to The Princess in the Kitchen Garden. Here again we are introduced to a fantastic dream world in which dream and reality are in conflict. Annelie's father takes her to stay with her grandmother. Annelie doesn't know why and begins to worry. Her grandmother sings horrible songs, songs about sunlight that goes down in the West and about a Giant with a Cat's Mouth. No-one will tell her where her mother is nor how long she has to stay with her grandmother. ‘Just for a little while’ could be a very long time, because grandma is already busy knitting a winter pullover. In the depths of the night she meets the friendly moon, the Frock Woman, the Mouse King and the scary Snatchweed Harry, who tries to tempt her into the water. The story is at least as fascinating as the detailed and wonderful drawings of Margriet Heymans.

The Journeys of the Clever Man (De reizen van de slimme man, 1988) is written for older children. It combines a richness of narrative forms with an ability to empathise with adolescents. Niels moves from an upstairs flat in Amsterdam to a luxury villa in the wealthy village of Wassenaar. At the same time he travels back to the past, to the time when Mr Frank told him the stories of the Odyssey, stories which teem with adventure and quests. And finally there is a journey through the language, a quest to find the words which will enable Niels to express his feelings and learn to comprehend the confusing world around him.

A highpoint in Dutch children's literature, and one which is held up as a symbol of the climate change in Dutch children's and youth literature, is Little Sophie and Lanky Flop (Kleine Sofie en Lange Wapper, 1984) by Els Pelgrom. In 1985 this book, which is often referred to as a ‘classic’, received both the Gouden Griffel (Golden Pencil) award for the author of the best children's book and the Gouden Penseel (Golden Brush) award for illustrator The Tjong Khing. The basis of this richly illustrated book is the story of a mortally ill girl who is given free rein for her desires in her delirious dreams. Together with her favourite doll, her teddy bear and the tabby cat she goes off at night in search of ‘what can be bought in life’. As with Dante, this quest ends in a tableau of life in which poverty, injustice and hypocrisy engage in battle with friendship, love and security. It is a moving story which can be enjoyed by children and adults at various levels.

The Elephant Mountain (De Olifantsberg, 1985) and The Party that Never Began (Het onbegonnen feest, 1987) form a chapter apart in Pelgrom's oeuvre. They are fantasy stories in which a varied collection of animals expound their philosophy of life while gathered on an Italian mountainside. ‘If you're thirsty, there is water’, says Flemish Jay, or ‘People who fly see

more’. While awaiting things to come, Marten, Squirrel, Ram and Toad form a tight-knit alliance in which there is a place for everyone's idiosyncrasies and needs.

Other breathtaking works include The Winter when Time Was Frozen (De kinderen van het Achtste Woud, 1977) and The Acorn Eaters (De eikelvreters, 1989), two books in which it is harsh reality which is recounted rather than the world of dreams. The first book sketches life on a farm in a remote corner of the Netherlands during the Second World War. The fate of the Jews and the permanent fear of the Nazi occupiers are particularly well-illustrated themes. The second book tells of the poverty and the harrowing contrast between rich and poor, power and powerlessness in southern Spain shortly after the Spanish Civil War. Both books offer a socially committed portrayal of historical moments in time.

The two great boulevards are linked by a fascinating network of small and large streets, woodland paths and leafy lanes where still more talent is burgeoning: Ienne Biemans, Sjoerd Kuyper, Wouter Klootwijk, Mensje van Keulen, Peter van Gestel, Veronica Hazelhoff, Hans Hagen, Rita Törnqvist, Lydia Rood, Simone Schell or Anne Vegter. This talent is characterised by its great involvement with the fantasies, emotions and reality of children, in combination with a wealth of images and narrative structures. For these authors, communication is more important than edification, and form more interesting than message; and on the basis of this view they play with words and images. Ted van Lieshout and Harrie Geelen have their own role in these games, experimenting not only with language and genres but also with

illustratie

The Tjong Khing's drawing for the cover of Els Pelgrom's Little Sophie and Lanky Flop (Kleine Sofie en Lange Wapper, 1984).

visual techniques. But through all their expressiveness they display a great understanding for the child who has to grow up in a wicked outside world.

The change in the climate of Dutch children's literature has perhaps been best expressed by the critic, essayist and writer Jacq Vogelaar:

‘What we read, and especially how we read, will have a lot to do with our first acquaintance with books; everyone can talk about this from their own experience... There are authors who remain faithful to the world of children's books all their lives and who do not forget what it is like to be a child. If young and adult readers have so much in common, why is this not taken seriously? Beside the differences, there is a great deal of correspondence in the reading world of youth books and literature, including in a qualitative sense.’

His plea for children's literature not to be regarded any longer as an appendage to ‘real’ literature, but as a crucial part of it, will give a boost to publishers, authors, critics and academics who labour to turn out artistic and literary products of high quality for children.

joke linders

Translated by Julian Ross.

The Low Countries. Jaargang 3