Konrad Book

Originally published in 1975 as Konrad, oder Das Kind aus der Konservenbüchse (literally, "Konrad, or the Child from the Tin Can"), this classic of Austrian children's literature is funny and thought-provoking at the same time, offering some insight into what it means to be a child, and a parent, while also delivering an immensely entertaining story. Opening one morning as Mrs. Bertie Bartolotti enjoys a rather messy breakfast in her rocking chair, the tale is soon off and running, as a most unexpected package arrives, containing a mysterious silver can. Opening the can, Mrs. Bartolotti is shocked to discover a young boy inside (his initially shriveled appearance soon being fixed by the application of the enclosed nutrient solution), and to learn that this factory-made child has been sent to her, to be her own. Unsure of how to proceed, and ignorant of just what it is that a seven-year-old boy needs, she sets out to do the best she can, learning that Konrad, as he is called, is a most pleasant and undemanding child, and has been reared to perfection - he has good manners, is thoughtful and considerate, never curses, and is advanced in all scholastic areas - in his artificial upbringing. The bohemian Mrs. Bartolotti isn't sure what to make of such virtue - her friend Mr. Thomas, who runs the local pharmacy, and is much more conventional, is charmed by Konrad, and offers to become his father - but eventually comes to love her unexpected child. When a letter from the factory that made Konrad arrives, informing her that there has been a mistake, and he must be returned, all involved set out to find a way to outwit them, and keep Konrad just where he is...

Chosen as the August selection over in The International Book Club to which I belong, which attempts to read a children's books from a different country each month, Konrad was a complete surprise to me - an unexpected joy! Something about the premise of Nöstlinger's book, when I first encountered it, didn't really appeal to me - and the cover of the edition I obtained from my library, published in the USA in 1977, is really rather boring, I think - and I certainly didn't come away with the impression that it would be so amusing. How fortunate that the club chose it, as I might have missed out on a real gem, otherwise! I found myself laughing out loud on a number of occasions, as I read, owing less to the premise of the story - although it is certainly wacky enough to elicit its own enjoyment - than to the author's prickly-penned depiction of her characters. The tension that develops between the unconventional Mrs. Bartolotti, and her rather staid friend, Mr. Thomas, was particularly entertaining, and the solution to the crisis, in which Konrad learns to be bad, was also quite funny.

In addition to my enjoyment of the characters, and their frequently funny interaction with one another - Mrs. Bartolotti's resentment at Mr. Thomas' interference! His shock at some of the dinners she prepares! The respectable neighbors, the Robertsons, and their well-masked curiosity! - I also found much here to ponder, and thought that Nöstlinger did an excellent job depicting Konrad's adjustment to the real world. The scene in which Mrs. Bartolotti ponders the subject of bullying, in order to explain it to him, was particularly well done, I thought, and very insightful:

At first she thought it would be easy to explain, that there were just nasty, mean little horrors, and they were born that way. But then Mrs. Bartolotti remembered how her own mother was always saying, "Why can't you be more like your cousin Louise, honey? She's much, much better behaved than you are!" Bertie Bartolotti, as a child, had not liked hearing that, and whenever she met her cousin Louise, she used to stick out her tongue and yell "Yaaah!" And Mrs. Bartolotti also remembered calling a little boy named Richard who lived next door "Pimple Face." Now why did I do that? Mrs. Bartolotti wondered. I don't think I was a particularly nasty, mean little horror of a child. I expect I was glad I didn't have pimples myself, thought Mrs. Bartolotti. And then she sighed, because she could see it was not so simple as she'd thought to decide why some children tease others, and it was going to be very difficult to explain it all to Konrad.

I've seen this book described as a meditation on the meaning of childhood, and what it is to be a child, and I would concur, but I would also add that it is as much a meditation on what it is to be a parent. Children don't need to be perfect, the author seems to be arguing - and there is something more than a little sinister about people who want them to be, as seen in the characters of the factory director, and Konrad's "real" parents - but neither do parents. Making three square meals a day is all very well, but love... love is what really counts - and Mrs. Bartolotti has that in spades! She is also very honest, a quality the author obviously feels is very important, when adults are dealing with children. All in all, this as an outstanding book, one as entertaining as it is thoughtful - I'm chagrined to think I almost didn't give it a chance! Konrad deserves to be far better known that it appears to be, and so I am heartened to see that Andersen Books, who brought out the currently out-of-print British edition of the book, are releasing it again this coming December, as The Factory Made Boy . If only we could get an American publisher to follow suit!