Beatrix and Peter
When I was 6 my mom and I would walk from our home on Norwood Ave. to the Stapelton library on Canal Street on Staten Island. Mom never learned to drive, and it was a pleasant walk. Otherwise, we rode the bus for our outings.
I loved our regular trips to the library. I loved being in the library. It was a bit like being in church, but I could roam the aisles. People were quiet, almost reverent. We all knew the rules and did not want to be shushed by the librarian. The books had their own smell. Some were very old and well used like the Velveteen Rabbit. I searched through the index cards filed in the long narrow library drawers for book titles and authors. It was the 1960s after all.
I enjoyed the ritual of checking out the books. There were two cards in the front pocket inside each book. The librarian stamped one card with the due date for its return then stuck it back in the small pocket. A reminder to avoid late fees. Then the librarian wrote the borrower’s information on the other card which was filed in a box sorted by book titles.
I first checked out a series of small, illustrated books by Beatrix Potter. Just large enough to fit into my hands to carry home. I read and reread her books, Dear Reader. The Tale of Peter Rabbit, of course. The Pie and Patty Pan. The Tale of Mr. Tod. The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies. The Story of a Fierce Bad Rabbit. Ginger and Pickles. All of her books. If there was a moral to her story, it wasn’t as blunt as Grimm’s Fairy Tales.
Beatrix never left me. She reminds me of the best times of my childhood, and the fundamental joy of reading instilled by my mom.
When I was 50, I ran for Congress and lost. Yes, Dear Reader, I did just fast forward with no segue. Stay with me.
Subsequently, I was invited to speak to a local businesswomen’s conference in Killeen, Texas. Why, you may ask, did they invite me, the loser? Don’t know but perhaps my foolishness in running for public office was seen as brave. The women wanted to hear my story.
I cannot tell you the context for mentioning Beatrix Potter while speaking to this group. I really don’t remember much of what I said. But I did talk about her and I know it made sense at the time. Women did come up to me after the conference to tell me how much they enjoyed my talk.
About two weeks later, one of the women stopped my office with a book, Beatrix Potter A Journal. Published by Penguin Books in 2006. The woman said she saw it and thought of me since she loved my presentation. I was surprised and touched by her gesture. I thanked her and she left, rather in a hurry. I didn’t get her name.
It is a beautifully executed book full of Beatrix’s journal entries, illustrations, and letters. It tells Beatrix’s journey from a privileged British girl to a published author. I learned she excelled in the natural sciences and was determined to be an artist. She drew images of animals that were faithful to reality. She did in fact have a pet rabbit named Peter.
I learned Beatrix was a self-published author for her first book, The Tale of Peter Rabbit. She was rejected by publishers who wanted to change her format. In 1901, she used her savings to retain creative control and published her book. She is my Hero.
Since then, I’ve found copies of Beatrix’s small, hard-covered illustrated books in second-hand bookstores. They sit on the table in my library, place of pride. These books were published by Frederick Warne & Co., Inc. in 1933, 1937, and 1939. They are in mint condition with sturdy binders, intact dust jackets, and colorful plates of her illustrations on thick glossy pages. The dust jackets offer copyrighted merch: wallpaper for nurseries, jigsaw puzzles, a natural foods cookbook, serving trays, and a daily reminder notepad. Merch offered a hundred years ago for a children’s book author. Beatriz Potter is my hero.