Russian Books: Cultural Differences

It is fair to mention that Russian fairy tales differ dramatically from those familiar to American children. American children read about a mischievous cat that helps children entertain themselves while their parents are not home. Russian children, conversely, read about Kolobok, an animated piece of dough that runs away from its (his -- he is decidedly male) pseudo-grandparents, rolls through the forest meeting and escaping a series of beasts (a hare, a wolf, and a bear) by singing a song, only to be outwitted and eaten in the end by a fox. On the first morning the book appeared in our house, my horrified husband brought it to me.














“Honey,” he said in a voice one uses to address the disturbed and the infirm, “there is a book here I cannot read. It is about a disembodied head.”
After I persuaded him that the story was largely innocuous, he expressed a wish to learn it, so that he may tell it to our son upon request. When I came to the last line of the tale, “and she – gulp! – ate him”, I stopped. My husband was silent for a while, studying the pictures, then trying to flip to the next page. There was no next page.
“And?” he asked.
“And what?” I asked in turn.
“And what happened next?”
“That’s it,” I said. “She ate him.”
“That’s it?” he said. “Are you sure? She – gulp – ate him?”
“Yep.”
“The fox ate the disembodied dough head – that’s the end of your fairy tale?”
Suddenly, the beloved childhood story did begin to seem a touch unreasonable.
“Well,” I said, “You should learn your lesson, I suppose. Don’t talk to strangers. It is preparing you to face the cruelty of the world.”
He shook his head.
“Brothers Grimm wrote worse stuff than this!” I said defensively. “You Americans only know the edited versions! And H. C. Andersen? You think that little Mermaid really got off scot-free? Try razor-sharp pain in her new legs!”
He just looked at me, in silence.
“And what about the Little Match Girl?” I yelled, half-hysterical, my eyes brimming with triumphant tears. “Huh? The way she went, she wished she were eaten by a fox!”
This, effectively, brought the conversation to an end.

* * *

While I find the content of my son’s Russian books to be perfectly wonderful, I do at times question the illustrators’ choices. Why, for instance, is there always a poisonous mushroom in the picture, when its presence is never called for? I present my case:

Kolobok









Three Little Pigs







Geese and Swans (Gusi-Lebedi)










Here Comes the Goat (Idyet Koza Rogataya)














Stomp-Stomp-Stomping (Top-Top-Topotushki)

Little House (Teremok): this one is a true gem -- filled to the brim with unpleasant fungi of all kind, not a single one specified by the story. It makes me shudder.