Kornei Chukovsky (1)

The Telephone, adapted by William Jay Smith, illustrated by Blair Lent.

The narrator of this madcap children's poem, originally published in Russian as Телефон, relates how a series of animals called him on the telephone, each requesting something amusingly outlandish. Kept hopping by the constant calls, he is close to collapsing when a true emergency comes through: the hippopotamus needs rescuing from the swamp...

The third English translation/adaptation of this nonsense poem that I have read, following upon those done by Jamey Gambrell and Marguerita Rudolph, this version by William Jay Smith is the weakest, textually speaking. The rhyming and line structure feel rather awkward at times, creating a reading experience that was somehow disjointed. It was interesting, once again, to see the variation of animals chosen for some of the verses - here we have sick flamingos, rather than herons or storks; or chimpanzees, rather than monkeys or baboons - but that wasn't enough to make this a more enjoyable read. That said, I found the artwork here, done by Blair Lent in an appealing folk style, quite charming. His animal characters were expressive and amusing, his colors - lots of subtle oranges and greens - deep but also muted. I liked that Lent wasn't afraid of the white space on his page. Although I do prefer the other versions of The Telephone that I have read, this is one I would still recommend to those seeking amusing nonsense stories for young children, if they cannot obtain the other versions mentioned above.… (plus d'informations)

The Telephone, adapted by Marguerita Rudolph, illustrated by Susan Perl.

The narrator of this delightfully idiosyncratic Russian poem for children relates the many odd calls he gets from various animals, each seeking something more outlandish than the last. Whether it be the "Elephone" seeking five tons of chocolates for his baby sister, the crocodile looking for a tasty snack of galoshes, or the heron who ate too many frogs, each caller needs help. The poem closes as the narrator attempts to pull a ten-ton hippo out of the mud...

Originally published in Russian in 1926, as Телефон, this classic nonsense poem from Kornei Chukovsky has been translated into English as least six times. Published in a variety of edition from 1939 through 1984, first by the Moscow-based Foreign Language Publishing House, and then by Malysh Publishers (also in Moscow), the Dorian Rottenberg translation has been paired with the artwork of V. Konashevich and Valentin Karpovich. In 1982, Malysh Publishers released a different translation, done by Peter Tempest, and paired with the artwork of V. Andriyevich. There is also a 1940s translation done by Padraic Breslin for Mezdunaradnaya kniga, artist unknown. In the west, in 1996, Jamey Gambrell presented an adapted picture-book version, with the artwork of Vladimir Radunsky. In 1977, William Jay Smith, who had also adapted Swedish picture-book great Elsa Beskow (see: The Children of the Forest), presented his own version, together with the illustrations of Blair Lent. Then there is this edition, translated and adapted by Marguerita Rudolph, with the artwork of Susan Perl. Released in 1971, it marks (according to the dust-jacket blurb) the first authorized translation of Telephone to be published in the United States.

As someone with an interest in translated children's literature, someone who enjoys comparing different picture-book presentations of the same tale, I had no sooner finished the aforementioned Gambrell/Radunsky title, than I was tracking down this older version. It was fascinating to compare and contrast the approaches taken by the two adapters. Unlike Gambrell, Rudolph presents a bilingual text in her book, with transliterated Russian on the left-hand page of each two-page spread, and the English on the right. The transliteration was done by Liuba Solov. At first I wondered at the choice to use transliteration, rather than the original cyrillic text, as this seemingly benefits neither those who can read Russian nor those who can't. Then I realized that the intention was not simply to provide the English readers with the original text, but rather, with the original sound and structure of the poem. Given that poetry is particularly reliant on cadence, I decided that this was actually a useful format to use, whether or not the reader could decode the meaning of the Russian words. It reminded me of a poetry reading I attended back in high school, in which the poets Andrei Voznesensky and Alan Ginsburg recited. Voznesensky read his poems in Russian, and Ginsburg the English translations, and while I understood not a word of the original, it was still fascinating to listen to.

Leaving aside the question of dual text, the language here was fun and inventive, the story silly and entertaining. There were a number of points where Gambrell and Rudolph chose different animals - baboons vs. monkeys, herons vs. storks, etc. - and a few verses that Gambrell seems to have summarized in no more than a few words, but overall the two versions are quite similar. Although I did enjoy the Gambrell/Radunsky version, both textually and visually, I think I prefer the Rudolph/Perl just a bit, because it feels like a fuller, more faithful presentation. The style of the artwork is very different - Radunsky all bold colors and collage, Susan Perl all cute animals depicted in simple greenish-brown monotone - and each appealing in its own right. Still, although I did prefer this version, the difference is not so very great. Perhaps I will have to track down some other adaptations...… (plus d'informations)

Telephone, adapted by Jamey Gambrell, illustrated by Vladimir Radunsky.

A classic Russian children's poem, written in its original form by Kornei Chukovsky, is adapted and presented in English by Jamey Gambrell in this picture-book. The narrator relates all the crazy calls he gets from various animals, each of whom wants something unexpected. Whether it be baboons looking for spoons, or a kangaroo seeking Winnie-the-Pooh, the narrator finds that he is glued to his telephone...

Having now read a number of Chukovsky's poems for children - Wash 'Em Clean, Doctor Concocter, Cock-the-Roach - I was curious to pick up Telephone. It's pretty clear from the presentation - Jamey Gambrell gets top billing on this edition - that this is as much an adaptation, as it is a translation. Whatever the case might be - and I would certainly be interested to read other versions of this poem in English - I found this one quite entertaining. The silly nonsense poem here reads well and is quite entertaining, while the accompanying artwork from Russian-born illustrator Vladimir Radunsky, done in vividly-colored and boldly-patterned collage, is eye-catching, and accentuates the madcap humor of the tale. Recommended to anyone looking for nonsense rhymes for children, or interested in Russian children's literature.… (plus d'informations)

When Cock-the-Roach, with his stiff and straight whiskers , threatens to eat the other animals, they give way before him, terrified of this 'Titan.' Hippos wail, crocodiles quake, and Mum Jumbo the elephant sits down and sulks, but no one opposes the victorious insect. Even when he demands their young to devour, the animals are quiescent, until the appearance of a sprightly kangaroo, who demands to know how they can bow down before "such a tiny mite." But it is only when a wee sparrow eats Cock-the-Roach that the animals realize their mistake, and are freed from their tormentor, and from their fears.

This nonsense poem from Kornei Chukovsky, a beloved Russian children's poet whose skillful wordplay has been compared to that of Dr. Seuss, was translated into English in 1981, and published by the Moscow-based Progress Publishers. One of a number of such titles published during the Soviet period, presumably for English-language tourists, as well as English-language markets - I understand that titles from Progress Publishers and Raduga Books were widely available in South Asia for many years - Cock-the-Roach is a book I found more interesting than pleasing. As someone interested in children's literature in translation, I am always on the look-out for these old Soviet-era publications, but although I thought Chukovsky's poem was fascinating, as a story, the text itself left me cold. I expect this is owing to the difficulties of translating poetry. The tale itself, in which the animals are all fooled into submission to a being far less powerful than they, could be interpreted in a number of ways. I was reminded a bit of Hans Christian Andersen's The Emperor's New Clothes, in which the people are likewise cowed into ignoring reality, but I think there is also a message here about political oppression, and how people sometimes contibute to it by being too willing to accept authority, believing falsely that it is invincible. In this sense, I was reminded of the conclusion of Baum's The Wizard of Oz, in which the all-powerful Oz is revealed as a humbug. However that may be, this was an interesting poem, one I was glad to read. The artwork by Olga Pushkaryova had a charming vintage feeling to it, and was sometimes quiet lovely. The scene with the sparrow on the flowering branch looked almost like a Japanese print to me. Recommended to anyone interested in Russian children's literature.… (plus d'informations)