[.ca] The Story of Little Black Sambo (ISBN 1929766556)

They do not want it Sam I am:
Well, it raises enough issues to keep literary scholars blabbing on for years and years. Following in the mighty footsteps of two other recent "Little Black Sambo" adaptations (one Fred Marcellino's "The Story of Little Babaji" and the other Julius Lester's complete reinterpretation "Sam and the Tigers") Christopher Bing's version of Helen Bannerman's original 1899 children's book is perhaps the purest retelling of the tale. Using the author's own words while replacing her pictures with beautiful woodcut-like illustrations, the story is a true labor of love. Where to begin? When Helen Bannerman first wrote the story of Sambo for her children, she had no idea that her Beatrix Potter-like invention (both women began publishing children's books in similar ways) would be the source of so much controversy and contempt. So let's say that we're a child that has stumbled across this edition without knowing a thing about its history. To them, this is a gorgeous story filled with light and color and a young boy beating those more powerful around him. The book has stayed true to the original in that it is set in India but features black characters. So there's some danger that kids will believe some Africans live in an India-like country. Otherwise, there's not much fault (in terms of the book in and of itself) to find with this retelling. Bing has obviously spent an inordinate amount of time researching and questioning his creation. We shouldn't ignore the fact that the great Henry Louis Gates Jr. (the Chair of Afro-American Studies at Harvard, doncha know) not only approved of this work but encouraged its publication. So for me, it's a success (though I'm a little leery of the Bing picture on the bookflap presenting him as a colonist). For some people, however, the very names of the characters (Sambo, Mumbo, and Jumbo) combined with the history of the tale are reason enough not to approve of this book. To them, a story like this can only make it seem "okay" that children be called Sambo. For others, the true crime of the original was not the story (in which a black boy outwits nasty predators) but the pictures. Remove the offending articles and replace with far better ones and the problem is completely solved. For me, I dunno. There's little doubt in my mind that Bing's book is breathtakingly beautiful. But every adult I've showed it to so far has been unable to get past the title. I would show them the gorgeous endpapers and faux aged binding (meant, I can only assume, to recreate the book as it SHOULD have appeared those one hundred odd years ago). I would patiently explain that Ms. Bannerman did not intend the story character, Sambo, to be associated with blacks in the United States. But even today the sting of that name is as powerful as ever. It may take one hundred or two hundred more years to undo some of its damage. Maybe at that point people will be able to read this particular edition for what it truly is. A loving work of beauty and skill. If you've any problems with the idea of making "Little Black Sambo" palatable to members of the 21st century, do not buy this book. If, however, you're a little curious and incredibly aware of the potential controversy engendered by this title, seriously consider buying it. At the very least, it stands as a true testament of how far we've come, and how far we've yet to go.

Gorgeous--a bibliophile's dream:
I had to have this book when I saw it in the store. The illustrations are rich and beautiful, but what really sold me was the look of the book. It's made to look like a hundred-year-old book, with torn pages and spine and worn gilding. It looks like dearly-beloved books I have in my own library, treasures from my childhood. I especially loved the claw mark on the cover; a tiger has been here! And the postcards and letters reproduced on the endpapers take me back to a magical world, the world of Mary Lennox in the opening pages of "The Secret Garden." I've loved this story for 45 years, despite its unfortunate connotations. This illustrator has tried to reclaim it. I wonder if maybe enough time has passed and the world has changed enough for that to be possible. I asked for this book at one bookstore, and the young black clerk had never heard of it. Certainly the beautiful, resourceful child in these illustrations bears no resemblance to the bug-eyed stereotype in the original. I do wish that he'd drawn an Indian child, to fit the backgrounds, but I understand why he made the child African. The story is a fantasy; if we can believe that tigers would wear shoes on their ears and turn into melted butter, maybe it's possible to accept this African family in India. I read the book out loud to my husband, and he laughed until he cried at those ridiculous tigers. "Now I'm the grandest tiger in the jungle. Grrrr!"

Delightful book with great illustrations:
This is a delightful book with excellent illustrations. Anyone who feels this book is racist may be a bit of one themself. I had the book as a child and was always fascinated by the tigers turning into butter. I grew up without prejudice or racism and have friends of all races and nationalities. People need to start being open-minded again and not read bad or "politically incorrect" things into everything. This is a very good child's book and I would recommend it. I am very happy it is still in print and I could purchase it at such a reasonable price.

Classic story, disappointing illustrations:
A few years ago The Story of Little Babaji was published. It was same story as Little Black Sambo, with the same characters (albeit with different names) in the correct Indian setting. It had the same humor (who cannot appreciate a tiger wearing shoes on its ears), the same thrill of victory when the tigers run themselves into butter and a courageous little boy gets his clothes back, the same self-satisfied pleasure when a happy family stuffs itself with buttered pancakes. I enjoyed reading it immensely. Which is why I am disappointed with this volume. When I heard that a new edition of The Story of Little Black Sambo was being published under it's original title, I was anxious to add it to my collection. I loved it as a child, and I was ready to love it again as an adult. Now that I have my copy in hand, though, I find that I'm of two minds about it. One the one hand, it's a visual treat -- the pictures fairly hum with life. The detail work is amazing, from the proper caste mark on the mother's forehead to the south-bound end of a certain north-bound tiger. The reader is left in no doubt that he or she is deep in the Indian sub-continent. And that is the problem. Because if the plants are Indian, and the birds are Indian, and the tigers are Indian, and the buildings are Indian, and the clothes are Indian, and the personal decoration is Indian, why, then, aren't the people Indian? As I look at his illustrations, I couldn't help feeling that Bing knew exactly where his story was set, he just couldn't bring himself to let go of that old, incorrect stereotype that has plagued this story for so many years. The mixture of the two strikes a decidely peculiar note. I found myself noticing the incongruity and missing the story. In the end, then, Bing's illustrations do not so much advance the story, as illustrations should, as distract the reader from it. And that is a shame.

A beautiful edition of a great story:
I ordered this book for my four year-old who has fallen in love with the story from my grandfather telling it to her by heart. I was stunned at how beautiful this book is--the illustrations alone are worth the price but the most interesting parts to me were the two cover and closing pages with Christopher Bing's Indian postcards and trinkets. Stunning edition. My Christmas shopping for next year is taken care of with another order of these books.