Like many a parent, when my children were little, I must have read the book Goodnight Moon to them about a million times. As with all such books that required multiple readings, in order to stave off the boredom of repetition, over time I developed a dramatic style and became so absorbed in the theatrical effects that I never noticed all the major problems with the room that The Ugly Volvo points out regarding the nursery room.
Here are some of the observations:
This bedroom is enormous. There is no one, I think, who has not noticed this. As someone who has lived in apartments only slightly larger than “a little toy house,” it’s mildly vexing that this bedroom is the size of a banquet hall in Downton Abbey.
Also the question arises as to why in a child’s nursery, one would have a black office telephone on the bedside table.
Who’s calling, his financial adviser? Why would someone this age need a telephone unless it’s to call the woman across the vast expanse of his bedroom to ask her to stop whispering, “Hush.”
These, and all the others like the strange color schemes, are all good points and I cannot believe I did not think to discuss them out with my children while reading the book.
Have you seen the nerdy version, Goodnight Dune?
http://goodnightdune.com/
The huge room makes more sense in the book I linked, since the child is presumably the child of a Duke.
drascus,
No, I hadn’t seen it. Thanks! It is a pretty impressive parody but since I haven’t read Dune, some of the allusions are lost on me.
If you think the room is strange what about the characters -- they’re RABBITS!!!!
I was just wondering about that tiger-skin rug…
Hmmm… an open fireplace left burning (it’s safety in the charge of a rabbit), but forgot to do the curtains….
I’ve stayed in a bedroom that big relative to humans, in a grand old country hall turned guest house. The small coal fire would be excellent at producing a slight draught making you almost as cold as with the fire out. What little heat it provides tends to rise up into the 16 foot ceiling anyway. Rich people excel at living in grand but uncomfortable spaces.
Oh and the telephone will connect to the switchboard Downstairs for room service, a thoroughy modern tool suited to the steam era.
The size of the room doesn’t bother me, since this book is aimed at a child. A room seems much bigger to a child than to their parents. What bothers me is the kittens on the floor who are ignoring the delicious bunny in the bed, and why the adult bunny is ignoring how dangerous the situation is. Even if they aren’t interested in eating the bunny, he’s not going to get any sleep, because the kittens will spend all night pouncing on his ears. After they eat the mouse, that is.