Books written to indoctrinate children into some non-instinctive worldview.
While buying books for our kids I have found two–one is called “Bread and Dew”, a collection of illustrated stories from communist Moldova in which children learn about how great life is with communism. (e.g. two boys attempt to have the reddest red flag of communism, a boy finds out how nice state-run health care is, a boy inspires everyone in his government-built concrete high-rise neighborhood by planting a poplar tree, a boy savors the sweet taste of wet pesticides on his breakfast bread after the cropduster flies over, etc.) Published in English in 1983. The other book is called “Miriam lives in a kibbutz”, about a 5-year-old girl whose family has just moved to a kibbutz and hates living in the children’s house, apart from her mother and father, until somehow she surrenders at the end of the story.
Both books are fascinating and weird–a glimpse into a world of fake emotions and labored explanations. Has anyone else found children’s books like this?
Oh dammit. There’s a german children’s book from the 30s about how the Jews are evil. Very Dick and Jane.
For the life of me I can’t remember the name. I read it in college while studying art and literture of the 3rd Reich.
While I never actually read them, the Krogers that I worked at for two summers had a stand of frightening looking picture books. One of them, for instance, was titled God Made Dinosaurs, and the cover illustration showed a brontosaurus walking through a park while a smiling scientist looks at his feet with a magnifying glass.
Several years ago my block organized a neighborhood watch, due to the rising crime in the area. We decided that occasional block activities would galvanize the neighborhood as well as send a “no thank you” message to would-be criminals. So we organized a block party. BBQed foods, friendly visits from a local friendly cop, games, and a puppet show. Ah, yes, the puppet show. The big event for the neighborhood kids. Marina the Good Neighbor was going to give a puppet show, and it promised to be a doozie!
The smell of freshly cut grass was in our ears, the sound of BBQing meats was in our nostrils, and the sight of anticipation hung heavy in our septums. The curtain was about to go up! “Puppet show!, Puppet show!”, we mused. “The great puppet show is about to begin!” Nothing could distract us from this spectacular. “Puppet show! The great puppet show is abou… Hey, burgers! Great!”
Small children were gathered around the stage. Cleverly, it was decorated in such a way as to make it look just like a plain cardboard box with a side cut out. Then on came the puppet. A hand puppet? Nope. A marionette? Nein. A ventrioquist’s dummy? Nyet. In a patriotic display of Eastern European minimalism, Marina decided to go with the hand-held Raggedy Ann doll.
Then the narration began:
“This is Anika. Anika very sad. She is crying. Why Anika is crying? Because she is in the prison. Did she steal? No. Did she kill? No. She was arrested by corrupt Slobovian government for speaking mind. Government is corrupt! Give Anika amnesty! Anika not die in prison! Topple government! Revolution now!”
The children began to cry. The adults gave each other knowing glances that confirmed what we were all thinking: “Th’ fuh?”
That night we all went to bed (not together) knowing that mid-Summer block parties just don’t get any better than that.
I’d nominate “My First Bible” and similar religious primers, myself.
Not to mention The O’Reiley Factor For Kids, loaded with eyebrow-raising advice like “chicks dig a man in a white shirt and jeans,” and ‘‘The more polite you are, the more responsive the other person will be’’. :dubious:
I love this! Actually, I have been afraid to read “Bread and Dew” and “Miriam lives in a kibbutz” to our kids. They could turn into socialist believers, or develop a joyless cynical sense of humor, or burst into tears, or who knows?
My grandmother gave me all sorts of Christian propaganda books. My mom got rid of the worst ones while no one was looking, like the one explaining how the earth was only however many years old and dinosaurs lived at the same time as humans, but I distinctly remember one that had drawings of people burning in hell, which traumatized me terribly.
I’m the very proud owner of a “Teenage Mutant Nija Turtles Clean up Boston Harbor” coloring book!
“Totally uncool. This is what happens when people are careless.”
“…all this gnarly trash and stuff will end up in the ocean. Some of it on Boston Harbor beaches. Gross.”
I used to read a book to my daughter about a gay caveman who was ostracised from the tribe for being sensetive and artistic. I don’t remember the name and the lesson was benign so I had no problem reading it to her. I remember, though, thinking it read very much like propaganda.
I was traumatized as a small child in the 1970s when my mom … uh, got a little enthusiastic about NOW, and for a while, I was only allowed to read Stories for Free Children. X, a shrill feminist missive about a child whose sex/gender is unknown, made me cry.
Fortunately for me, Mom relented fairly quickly and I was able to return to my sexist, misogynistic children’s books before my taste in literature was completely spoiled.
a brief synopsis: Sister Bear wonders where bears/the planet/etc came from. She goes to Papa Bear. Papa Bear gives a scientific explanation. Sister Bear gets confused because science is icky. Sister Bear goes to Mother Bear, who tells Sister Bear about religion, but Sister Bear is still confused because Mama Bear is not trained as a preacher. Mama Bear takes Sister Bear to church. Sister Bear is no longer confused.
To be fair, it doesn’t really specify that Christianity is the religion is involved, but it’s pretty clear it’s a Judeo-Christian one. The reviews have responses from angry agnostics and athiests, and pleased Christians.
There was a story booklet called “Who Wants to be a Prairie Dog” that was published, in 1948, by the Department of the Interior to be used in teaching Dineh children on the reservations. The premise was that little Indian children who were lazy and preferred herding their family’s sheep to going to school, would drop down into prairie dog holes, and become prairie dogs. An interesting aside was that the children that were illustrated in the book wore short hair and “White” clothing, BUT when they turned into prairie dogs, they all wore Dineh clothing and acted “like Injuns”.
I love this! Actually, I have been afraid to read “Bread and Dew” and “Miriam lives in a kibbutz” to our kids. They could turn into socialist believers, or develop a joyless cynical sense of humor, or burst into tears, or who knows?
