#1 Bibliograhpic Information
Silverstein, Shel. (1964). The Giving Tree. New York: Harper Collins.
#2 Summary
A small boy and a tree love each other very much; the boy plays on the tree, eats fruit from the tree, and rests under the tree. However, soon the boy grows older, and playing with the tree no longer satisfies him. He wants to sell her apples for money, take her branches to build a house, and chop down her trunk to build a boat, all of which, in turn, the tree willingly and happily gives. Yet the boy is not satisfied with any of these gifts. When he returns for the last time as an old man, he and the tree are both spent; the tree has nothing left to offer, and having no energy, the man has no need for it; only for a place to rest. The tree's stump proves the perfect place; she offers it, he rests, and the boy is satisfied in the tree once more.
A small boy and a tree love each other very much; the boy plays on the tree, eats fruit from the tree, and rests under the tree. However, soon the boy grows older, and playing with the tree no longer satisfies him. He wants to sell her apples for money, take her branches to build a house, and chop down her trunk to build a boat, all of which, in turn, the tree willingly and happily gives. Yet the boy is not satisfied with any of these gifts. When he returns for the last time as an old man, he and the tree are both spent; the tree has nothing left to offer, and having no energy, the man has no need for it; only for a place to rest. The tree's stump proves the perfect place; she offers it, he rests, and the boy is satisfied in the tree once more.
#3 Reactions
While I understand the beauty of the story as one of unconditional love, I can't help but be annoyed by this story every time I read it. At first, I thought that it was because I disliked it as a child. It made no sense to me; I wanted the boy to be punished for what he had done to the tree, or I wanted him to change, and realize what he had done to the tree and apologize. And if nothing else, I wanted the tree to not give him anything else, for crying out loud! Doesn't she know that he's just wasting it all and being selfish?? I also realize now how disappointing the ending is. Of course the tree is happy, and that's nice, and it seems that the boy is satisfied with resting on her stump--but the boy, who loved her in the beginning, apparently never loves her again; at least, the author never repeats that sentiment from him, nor does he ever make reference in the end to the boy's happiness, which all makes his character overwhelmingly unredemptive and depressing. This all still annoys me. But I think that perhaps it annoys me more now because I see the stark didacticism. It's not that I disagree with the lesson or its themes (environmentalism, anti-hedonism, the elusiveness of happiness, undesirable aspects of human nature) but I don't appreciate it when its couched so condescendingly in a children's book, where it doesn't (from my childhood mind) belong. Truly, it's a simplified adult message, with nothing to do with childhood, apart from the first stage of the boy's life. I am certain, therefore, that I will not read this book to my children. If I want a story about unconditional love, there are better ones I can think of.
#4 Reviews
Review #1
The intent and meaning of this book has "stumped" many over the years. Some find The Giving Tree to be a sad tale of codependency--about a tree that doesn't stop giving, and a boy who doesn't stop taking. I tend to think of the book as a story about the unconditional love a parent gives a child--the parent gives what he/she can, fully aware (and mostly happy) that the child will grow to be independent of the parent. The boy/man clearly develops a life of his own. This in itself is not sad. However, that the tree is reduced to a stump is not exactly fun; and, that the boy only appreciates the tree near the end of his life is indeed sad! The story can be viewed as one that makes people stop to think. A gentle lesson about appreciation can be pulled from the story, and it's a lesson that is subtle enough that, if picked up, can be all the more powerful simply because it was never force-fed.
No matter how you look at it, the book is certainly a conversation piece. Controversy aside, the illustrations are simple line drawings that are effective enough that they could easily tell the story without ever reading the text.
--Edutainingkids.com. (2002). Retrieved from: http://www.edutainingkids.com/reviews /bkthegivingtree.html.
--Edutainingkids.com. (2002). Retrieved from: http://www.edutainingkids.com/reviews /bkthegivingtree.html.
Review #2
"Look Shel," I said, "the trouble with this ‘Giving Tree' of yours is that it between two stools; it's not a kid's book -- too sad, and it isn't for adults -- too simple." This was in 1963; I was working at Simon & Schuster; Shel was Shel Silverstein, and the manuscript was "The Giving Tree," which Harper & Row subsequently published, and which has sold over 150,000 copies. Kurt Vonnegut must have some kind of philosophical saying for the way I feel now.
Shel Silverstein first came to prominence as Playboy's roving cartoonist. He published a number of children's books and the outrageous "Uncle Shelby's ABZ Book," and just a few years ago turned up as a song-writer with Johnny Cash's hit "A Boy Named Sue." Even more recently, he had a hit, singing in his own raucous voice his "Freakin' at the Freaker's Ball," and we'll soon see in November a large collection of his poems for children, "Where the Sidewalk Ends."
When I called this paper and said I'd like to do a piece about "The Giving Tree," they said, fine, but would I also look into two other surprise sellers, "The Velveteen Rabbit," and "Go Ask Alice"? Very good.
"The Giving Tree" begins, "Once there was a tree..." (Dots are Shel's) and goes on for 50 more pages with a simple tale, illustrated in graceful cartoon style by the author. There was a boy who played in the tree, gathering its leaves, swinging on its branches, eating its apples. When the boy grew older he lay in the shade of the tree with a girl and carved initials in a heart. Yet older, a young man, he took the tree's branches to build a house. As an old man he needed a boat to get away from it all, so the tree said cut me down and make a boat. So we have a stump. Along comes the boy, now an old, old man, and the ex-tree says, "Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest." And the tree was happy.
My interpretation is that that was one dum-dum of a tree, giving everything and getting nothing in return. Once beyond boyhood, the boy is unpleasant and ungrateful, and I wouldn't give him the time of day, much less my bole. But there's a public out there who think otherwise, and Harper & Row expects to sell another 100,000 this year. And this month they are bringing out a version in French, "L'arbre au Grand Coeur." I called Ursula Nordstrom, who has been Shel's editor at Harper & Row, and asked how this all came about. Ursula, noted for finding and encouraging such artists as Maurice Sendak and Tomi Ungerer, had long ago noted Shel's "simple and direct drawings" in Playboy, and tried to get him to do a book. Shel, the hardest man in the world to pin down, didn't react until Tomi Ungerer said, "Go see Ursula." There was tremendous disagreement in the office over "The Giving Tree," one editor saying "That tree is sick! Neurotic!" They did a small first printing in 1964. Nothing much happened. Then, as Ursula says, "The body twitched". Apparently, it had been taken up by the great word-of-mouth underground with an assist from the pulpits; where it was hailed as a parable on the joys of giving, and from Shel's disk-jockey friends, a strange pairing. The book, to me, is simply a backup of "more blessed to give than to receive." My wife's interpretation, not surprisingly, is that the tree represents a mother, giving and receiving with not expectation of return. Whatever it is, it touches a sensitive point clearly and swiftly, as do other recent phenomena of Segals and seagulls.
Shel Silverstein first came to prominence as Playboy's roving cartoonist. He published a number of children's books and the outrageous "Uncle Shelby's ABZ Book," and just a few years ago turned up as a song-writer with Johnny Cash's hit "A Boy Named Sue." Even more recently, he had a hit, singing in his own raucous voice his "Freakin' at the Freaker's Ball," and we'll soon see in November a large collection of his poems for children, "Where the Sidewalk Ends."
When I called this paper and said I'd like to do a piece about "The Giving Tree," they said, fine, but would I also look into two other surprise sellers, "The Velveteen Rabbit," and "Go Ask Alice"? Very good.
"The Giving Tree" begins, "Once there was a tree..." (Dots are Shel's) and goes on for 50 more pages with a simple tale, illustrated in graceful cartoon style by the author. There was a boy who played in the tree, gathering its leaves, swinging on its branches, eating its apples. When the boy grew older he lay in the shade of the tree with a girl and carved initials in a heart. Yet older, a young man, he took the tree's branches to build a house. As an old man he needed a boat to get away from it all, so the tree said cut me down and make a boat. So we have a stump. Along comes the boy, now an old, old man, and the ex-tree says, "Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest." And the tree was happy.
My interpretation is that that was one dum-dum of a tree, giving everything and getting nothing in return. Once beyond boyhood, the boy is unpleasant and ungrateful, and I wouldn't give him the time of day, much less my bole. But there's a public out there who think otherwise, and Harper & Row expects to sell another 100,000 this year. And this month they are bringing out a version in French, "L'arbre au Grand Coeur." I called Ursula Nordstrom, who has been Shel's editor at Harper & Row, and asked how this all came about. Ursula, noted for finding and encouraging such artists as Maurice Sendak and Tomi Ungerer, had long ago noted Shel's "simple and direct drawings" in Playboy, and tried to get him to do a book. Shel, the hardest man in the world to pin down, didn't react until Tomi Ungerer said, "Go see Ursula." There was tremendous disagreement in the office over "The Giving Tree," one editor saying "That tree is sick! Neurotic!" They did a small first printing in 1964. Nothing much happened. Then, as Ursula says, "The body twitched". Apparently, it had been taken up by the great word-of-mouth underground with an assist from the pulpits; where it was hailed as a parable on the joys of giving, and from Shel's disk-jockey friends, a strange pairing. The book, to me, is simply a backup of "more blessed to give than to receive." My wife's interpretation, not surprisingly, is that the tree represents a mother, giving and receiving with not expectation of return. Whatever it is, it touches a sensitive point clearly and swiftly, as do other recent phenomena of Segals and seagulls.
--Cole, William. "Excerpt from 'About Alice, a Rabbit, a Tree...'."The New York Times Book Review (1973).
#5 Suggestions for Library Use
Beyond a life-size cardboard display of the cover of this book (I think the illustrations are wonderful, even if I don't like the story) and a storytime, I think a good way to begin to have children think about the book is to talk about it. I know, I know, that's not very creative, but it's a complicated message, and a direct approach might be helpful for very young children. Starter questions could be what do they think of the tree and what do they think of the boy. Then perhaps ask why the tree loved the boy, even though he chopped her down... Now, if we were doing maybe a month-long "Giving Tree" theme, perhaps the library could ask for donations.
No comments:
Post a Comment