Reviews for Just so stories

The average rating for Just so stories based on 2 reviews is 1 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2009-09-17 00:00:00 Rachellelle Liss How The Kipling Got His Reputation Once upon a time, Best Beloved, when the world was middle-aged and good Queen Victoria sat on the throne, there was a Kipling. And even though he constantly had to carry around a White Man's Burden (an object, by the way, which he had invented himself, and very proud he was of it too), he was as happy as the day is long. And he would often stop for a moment, and sing a little song he'd written, which beganMamma Pajama rolled out of bed and ran to the po-lice stationand endedSeein' me and Sambo down by the Rudyard Maybe you know a song that's a bit like that, Best Beloved, and you're wondering why this one is different? But we'll get to that shortly. So one day, the Kipling was carrying his White Man's Burden and singing his song, when, in a great flash, a Time Traveler appeared. The Kipling was amazed, for he had never seen any kind of DeLorean before, much less one capable of temporal displacement. And as soon as they had had the usual awkward conversation about which century am I in and so on and so forth (I am sure you know all about this, Best Beloved), the Kipling was of course eager to know what the wonderful future world was like. Could the Time Traveler tell him anything about it? As it happened, the Time Traveler had a newspaper with him from the year 2009; and he showed the Kipling the front page, where, wonder of wonders, you could see a full-color daguerreotype of Queen Victoria III shaking hands with her dear friend, President John McCain of the United States of America. Behind them, there was a map of the world; and the Kipling was very pleased to see that most of it was a pretty pink, except for a piece on the left which was stars-and-stripes color. He was just about to express his appreciation, when the Time Traveler unfortunately raised his foot, and stepped on a butterfly that had landed next to him. Now, Best Beloved, I need hardly tell you that if there is one thing a Time Traveler must never, ever, do, it is to step on a butterfly. Before their horrified eyes, everything changed. The Kipling looked round wildly: his White Man's Burden was gone! "Where is my White Man's Burden?" he plaintively asked the Time Traveler. "You mean your Aid to Developing Countries," said the Time Traveler in a new, nasty tone. "I don't know. But what you do have, in case you haven't noticed, is a Reputation." And it was true! The Kipling suddenly had a horrible Reputation, which stuck to him; do what he would, he couldn't shake it off. He tried singing his song, thinking that might cheer him up, but it didn't come out the way it was supposed to. Finally, he looked again at the Time Traveler's newspaper, and could hardly believe what he saw. "Where is Victoria III?" he whispered. "Who is this large Scotsman? And the person he's shaking hands with, the President of the United States, is an... an N-word!" And he looked even more surprised, because he had thought he would say something rather different. "I see you have discovered Political Correctness," said the Time Traveler in his new, nasty tone. "And, as for me, I have discovered that you are an F-word F-word." In case you don't speak Politically Correct English, Best Beloved, I should say that those were two different F-words: the second one ended in "-ascist", and I'm afraid we don't have time to talk about the first one. Before the Kipling could reply, the Time Traveler got back into his DeLorean, and disappeared with another flash. And try as he would, the poor Kipling could never get rid of his Reputation; and he thought it very unfair, because after all it had been the Time Traveler who had stepped on the butterfly. But life, sadly, is often like that.

Review # 2 was written on 2012-02-18 00:00:00 Richard Poirier What an infuriating book. I don't know what infuriates me more: that Kipling was a racist imperialist colonizer who believed firmly in white superiority and conveyed that in every word of these stories; or that Kipling is such a marvelous writer of the English language. Kipling the colonizer, imperialist, racist, supremicist, had no trouble at all mugging the oral traditions of the peoples his people colonized to tell his "Just So Stories" to his Best Beloved. No trouble at all mimicking their voices with disgusting condescension, rewriting origin tales, creating new origin tales, playfully interweaving the inevitability of England's rise as though fated (as he does so deftly in How the First Letter Was Written & How the Alphabet Was Made by making his generative tale appear to be something it isn't). Kipling's Just So Stories are propaganda at its most magical. They're friendly propaganda. They're propaganda of subtlety. And Kipling was a master. And it works so well because Kipling was so talented. Love him or hate him, I think it would be difficult to make a case that he was an untalented writer. What Kipling could do and did do repeatedly with the English language was astounding. He was a master. And his gifts were such that even today countless people I know personally, who consider themselves enlightened folk, make excuses for Kipling. The most common excuse I hear is, "He's a product of his time." But in Kipling's lifetime were men like Richard Francis Burton, Mark Twain, Roger Casement, George Orwell, and countless others, who didn't see the world, or the "white man's" place in the world the way Kipling did. Many were anti-Colonial, anti-Imperial, and not racist at all. Many of Kipling's contemporaries saw colonized peoples as victims, human beings deserving of dignity, not "sullen peoples" to be brought "toward the light." So this main excuse really doesn't hold up, though it's easy to voice because Kipling's stuff is so well written and likeable in its nastiness. I read this to my youngest daughter, my two year old, and she seemed to be dazzled by the sound Kipling's words made coming out of my mouth. I am hoping she's too young for any of his meaning to take seed in that fertile ground. Because the seeds of Kipling bear only ugly fruit. One last scary thought: what would the world be like if someone like Hitler had had the literary talent of Kipling. It makes me shudder.