An interesting contrast exists between Beatrix Potter’s charming little story of predation, The Tale of Jemima Puddle-duck, published in 1908, and Michael Leannah’s 2017 Most People. The former follows the hapless fowl Jemima who wants to hatch her own eggs, blind to her own ignorance and lack of virtue. The latter follows two sets of siblings through a day in a progressive parent’s shimmering vision of diversity, inclusion, and good intentions. Which is helpful in developing the moral imagination of vulnerable and impressionable children?
Ultimately, both stories illustrate the same basic principle: most people are not trying to hurt you, and many people will, in fact, gladly offer assistance when the opportunity arises. The difference is in the wily character of Mr. Fox. Children, generally trusting by nature, do not need encouragement in trusting overly friendly adults. What children need is a warning not to trust people who seem too nice, people who may have ulterior and predatory motivations. Discerning the difference between seeming and being, pretense and the real thing is an essential aspect of maturation.
The misfortune wrought by such lack of maturity is seen in the gullible duck. Jemima is so upset by everyone’s unwillingness to let her sit on her own eggs that she ventures off on her own. Beyond the confines of the farm, Jemima does not have the safety of social order to discern for her who is trustworthy. She must rely on her own, obviously deficient, sense of whom she can trust. Pretty quickly, she heads for trouble when a gentleman fox sees an opportunity for ill use of the none-too-swift Jemima.
Rather than proceed with caution, Jemima thinks the fox “mighty civil and handsome.” The ignorant duck is so intent on her personal desire to sit on her eggs that she ignores the comically obvious reasons for concern. The shed full of feathers appears to her only a soft and warm place to lay eggs and does not prompt any question of whence the feathers have come. Indeed, “Jemima Puddle-duck was rather surprised to find such a vast quantity of feathers. But it was very comfortable; and she make a nest without any trouble at all.”
Children, like Jemima, should gradually be made aware of evil, and it is unkind for parents to try to hide it from them. Without understanding that evil exists, the simple and vulnerable are at the mercy of people who may not want what is best for them. The fox, for example, tells Jemima that “he loved eggs and ducklings; he should be proud to see a fine nestful in his wood-shed.” Jemima, evidently, remains unaware that someone may love her precious eggs for a reason quite different from her own.
The climax of the story, a near catastrophic consummation for clueless Jemima, occurs when the fox requests that Jemima bring along herbs from the farm for her final trip to begin sitting on her eggs. But, “Jemima Puddle-duck was a simpleton: not even the mention of sage and onions made her suspicious. She went round the farm-garden, nibbling off snippets of all the different sorts of herbs that are used for stuffing roast duck.”
Thankfully, the clever collie dog intervenes with two foxhound pups to rescue Jemima from her ignorance and the fox’s cunning plan. After heroically injuring themselves in the fight with the fox, the puppies unfortunately gobble up the eggs. Blind to the threat from which she escaped, “Jemima Puddle-duck was escorted home in tears on account of those eggs.”
Meanwhile, in the sparkly, diverse landscape of progressive utopia, the children of Most People encounter no one who seeks to abuse them. Full of “gotcha!” moments for the world-weary adults reading the book, menacing blue-haired, tattooed freaks help grandmothers cross the street and look out for vulnerable kittens. The enlightened can walk away from reading Most People with a smug feeling of self-assurance that most people in the world are good and they know better than to judge people who seem like they might not be good.
Even with its fatuous good intentions, the book is not shiny enough for some dreamers in the world. Most People has been dogged with accusations of ableism and insensitivity for daring to suggest that running is fun and people look better when they smile. These criticisms miss the more disturbing danger in the book: telling impressionable children that they should not fear predators in the world and trying to distract them from identifying predators.
Most People suffers from the delusions that come with ignoring the stingers in life, pretending that predators do not exist. The book is billed as an escape from the sad cycle of cable news and depressing episodes in life, things that should not affect young children. Jaded adults are the ones who see danger lurking behind every corner and need reassurance that many people will be good and kind when offered an opportunity. Children need to know that they are ignorant and weak, and there are those who would use these deficits to their advantage.
The more fundamental error at the heart of Most People is the belief that people are either good or bad. In a world increasingly devoid of binaries, this one seems to reassert itself often. One is either a good ecofriendly vegan or a bad racist neanderthal. Such convenient categorization rarely represents reality. As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn wrote in the Gulag Archipelago, “The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either – but right through every human heart…even within hearts overwhelmed by evil, one small bridgehead of good is retained. And even in the best of all hearts, there remains…an uprooted small corner of evil.”
Or, put another way, in the menacing words of the diabolical Noah Cross in Chinatown, “You see, Mr. Gittes, most people never have to face the fact that at the right time and right place, they’re capable of anything.”
Foolishly, Most People tries to present a world in which people do not do evil. Perhaps a fun thought experiment and pleasant diversion, this is not substance for the formation of the moral imagination. Jemima Puddle-duck encounters someone who seeks to do her harm and, even after being rescued, she doesn’t understand the danger she was in.
Is Mr. Fox evil? Because Potter uses animals in her morality play, the fox is not evil but simply a fox. It is not good or bad that he wants to eat a silly duck and her nine eggs; that is just what foxes do. People, however, have the ability to choose, which lends moral weight to their actions. As the fox’s actions are determined by his being a fox, a person’s character is determined by the actions he chooses. Thus, while there remains until the final hour the possibility of the thief’s redemption, the person who steals is, in fact, a thief. The person who lures simple and innocent children into situations that are a danger to them are predators, and children should know that such people exist. Predators, because they are seeking to lure children, will not appears menacing and threatening at first, which is precisely why children need to be trained to recognize them.
Don’t worry about Most People, teach your ducklings to recognize the bad eggs.
1 comment
Comments are closed.