A Captain Hook Christmas (continued)

Three years ago, when I wrote about my Captain Hook Christmas, I didn't know all that much about Captain Hook nutcrackers. In fact, I didn't realize how much there was still to learn until I visited the Nutcracker Museum in Leavenworth, Washington.

I was hoping the museum might have a Steinbach Captain Hook from 1991, now retired and hard to find. And it does, along with two other characters from Peter Pan. And the display also contains two other Captain Hook nutcrackers from other manufacturers. (Of course, there may be others that I missed--the museum has thousands of nutcrackers, from historical to current versions.)

A rather better pic than I was able to get.

These figures are from the Christian Ulbricht Peter Pan character set, a Walt Disney licensed edition from possibly 1991. I can find very little information on this collection, which is the opposite of my usual ventures into research. Jolly fellow, this particular Jas. Hook.

And here's a Hook from closer to my Seattle home, made by Mcdowell's Enchanted Woodworks in British Columbia, Canada.

I noticed that only the Steinbach version has the hook on the correct hand, as described by author J. M. Barrie. The others are evidently based on the inescapable Walt Disney Studios animated Peter Pan.

Once again, I find that Peter Pan lurks everywhere, even in small Bavarian-styled towns in the Cascade mountains. As, it seems, do blog posts.

The adventure continues

Three and a half years and 117 posts ago, this blog was born. It's now reached and passed 50,000 hits. This seems like a good time to look back at what I've found particularly interesting during my research for The Stowaway.

The five most popular posts are listed there at the right side of the page. I had no idea Mr. Smee was so popular before I started Hook's Waltz. But here are another five, with links, that I think deserve a little love as well.

By Mabel Lucie Atwell, 1921

Keeping faith
There are certain challenges of being true to a character who has been portrayed as many ways through the years as Peter has.

~ ~ ~

By Anne Graham Johnstone, 1988

Why they flew away
Why was it so easy for Peter Pan to convince the Darling children to join him in Neverland? The answer is less sinister than you might think. 

~ ~ ~

Return to Neverland Happy Meal toys.
2002?

Peter and the popular media
Movie tie-in toys have been around longer than McDonald's has.

(I wish now I had never gone searching for images of vintage Peter Pan toys. I guess there's a little more room in the display cabinet.)

~ ~ ~

Writer Maurice Hewlett. Not only did J. M
Barrie recruit him for his struggling cricke
team, he borrowed his son's name for one
of the pirates in Peter Pan.

Friends in unexpected places
James Matthew Barrie had no problem writing his friends into his stories, even if dreadful things happened to the characters.

Bonus: He also had no problem pressing them into service on perhaps the worst amateur cricket
team in history.
Sports and letters

Additional bonus:
The cricket rivalry has been resurrected!
A new sports rivalry between Authors and Actors 

~ ~ ~

By Marjorie Torrey, 1957

Of kisses and lost children 
And finally, my most personal take on the story of Peter Pan, with its expression of the indelible mark left by the death of a child.

Why Peter Pan still matters

It may seem ridiculous to wonder if the story of Peter Pan is still relevant, given how thoroughly it's woven into pop culture. References to its characters are dropped into TV conversations and movie scenes and newspaper articles, used to describe personalities and psychological tendencies. Over and over, retellings of the story appear, often updated and/or "dark." Tinker Bell is the Walt Disney Studios mascot (though I'm sure she'd prefer the term "spokesfairy").

But the original story is frequently lost in the cultural shorthand. Far more people know it through the 1953 Walt Disney animated film than from the original book or even the original play. And Disney, along with the 1954 Broadway musical, took liberties with the story that did it no favors--note the songs about the Indians which are so blatantly cringe-worthy today. The retellings often take the story so far from its roots than only its outlines are left.

So why is James Matthew Barrie's original Peter Pan still important today?

Gwynedd M. Hudson, 1931

❧ Because Peter Pan has value as a work of literature, as well as a source of enduring fantasy images. It's written with style and whimsy and wit, with characters who contain both good and bad qualities. It doesn't talk down to children, but instead presents them with challenging ideas and an ending that is not altogether happy. And thus it's a book that unfolds with further meaning when read by adults, one which takes us back to a time when the possible was not so circumscribed by experience and failure, yet which doesn't altogether dismiss the realities of the world.

❧ Because we all need to grow up. This idea is watered down--if not absent altogether--in many versions of Peter Pan (Disney being perhaps the worst offender here).  But the 1911 book is rife with examples of how Peter's youth makes him heartless and negligent. And children who refuse to grow up have given us climate change and the garbage gyre and poisoned water supplies. They leave the wreckage of their relationships behind them and have no idea how to look to the future. Even Peter Pan himself has some inkling of the truth of this, when nightmares bring him to tears in his sleep.

Flora White, 1913

❧ Because other eras have something to teach us, in both positive and negative aspects. It's important to understand how people lived and thought in the not-actually-so-distant past, in order to understand what we're doing here and now.

Any work of art from the past will contain ideas and attitudes we find jarring now. I've been catching up on books written ten years ago and I'm surprised how much what is acceptable to say has changed in just that short period of time. Edwardian Scottish playwright J.M. Barrie had little reason to study the history of the American Indian when he wrote a fantasy play for children. We in the modern world have no excuse not to examine these attitudes and realize what is accurate and fair. And perhaps seeing that other eras were not all as consumer-focused and cynical as ours can show us an alternative, or at least be a comfort.

❧ Because there are women--and men--who treasure the idea of being parents, though it may not be fashionable to say so. Wendy does not have to be seen as an anti-feminist icon.

Scott Gustafson, 1991

❧ Because families still lose children, to illness or tragedy. It's not as common as it was in the past and it's rarely talked about outside of support groups and immediate families. But there are parents who ache as much for their lost ones as Mrs. Darling does. Perhaps there is some solace for them in literature like Peter Pan, especially if one knows that Barrie's own childhood was marked by the death of his older brother, and that this loss resonates throughout the book.

The enduring power of an image

❧ Because dismissing literature from the past is like refusing to listen to our grandparents. Our elders have something to teach us. Yes, some of their attitudes may seem unforgivable. But they have knowledge and experience and wisdom we should consider as well.

Shot from a canon

With another Peter Pan movie, of sorts, having hit the big screen and slid down it to die, I've been considering the idea of canon: events and characters in a story that should be immovable, not remastered to tell a tale that's possibly at odds with the original. And in a neat bit of timing, Chuck Wendig, who along with his other ventures writes in the Star Wars universe, has addressed this very issue.

Since The Stowaway takes place in an existing universe with many existing characters, of necessity I've given a great deal of thought to where canon should be adhered to, and where and when it can be broken. I tend to fall on the side of respecting it. (Past posts here at Hook's Waltz may tend to bear that out.) J. M. Barrie's Peter Pan has meant a great deal to me on a deep level, and many retellings strike me as a betrayal of the story's essence...which leads me to wonder if my own digressions from canon make me a hypocrite.

Thomas Kinkade's "Moonrise Over Pirate Cove," created for
Disneyland's 50th anniversary. Beautiful ship!
But not the kind Captain Hook sailed.

Interestingly, Barrie himself didn't always keep to his own canon. The play that was finally produced in 1904 went through innumerable changes beforehand (for one, Tinker Bell was first named Tippytoe and spoke her lines). And "Hook at Eton," the speech he wrote in 1927, contained some details that contradicted the 1911 novelization that was Peter and Wendy--some details which again complicated my own plot.

This was not the only challenging part of trying to adhere to Barrie's script. I have an irritating mental image of him leaning over my shoulder to say, "If you're sincere about following my plot, Mr. Starkey has to stay in Neverland." (That one necessitated a rewrite of the last section of the book and the absence of a character I'd come to appreciate.) But I felt that I needed to build on the scaffolding of the existing story as much as possible to keep my changes from flying off in directions that Barrie wouldn't appreciate.

There are some beloved elements common to both the book and the better-known Disney film that I wanted to keep--the flying ship, Tinker Bell's temper, the ticking crocodile. There are others I do alter, hoping that I am keeping true to the heart of the story in the process. Where I diverge, I like to think it's in directions Barrie would at least understand, and maybe even appreciate. The character of Tiger Lily, for example, is not one that can be responsibly transferred from the original as written. But Barrie didn't live in a time and place where information about American indigenous cultures would have been readily available, and he was more focused on writing a children's adventure story reminiscent of others popular at the time than on creating an accurate historical depiction. Maybe it's naive of me to consider, but he was a man who prized kindness, and perhaps he would encourage a more realistic and humane view of his "Indian" characters today.

I'm lucky that Peter Pan is known to have a loose relationship with the truth. (It's canon!)When my maternal grandmother wanted to ask if someone was lying, she would say, "Are you telling a story?" And this is crucial to the character of Peter. He loves stories. He first visited the Darling children because he wanted to hear the end of "Cinderella." To him, the line between a story and what the rest of the world recognizes as shared truth is gossamer. We know Peter Pan didn't really kill Blackbeard or Long John Silver, no matter what he says. It's not such a leap for me to tell a story that doesn't quite align with Peter's interpretation of events.

 I love Marjorie Torrey's 1957 illustrations, but her Tinker Bell
is neither voluptuous nor dressed in a single leaf as she should be.

Ultimately, canon is a complicated beast. Several different versions of the Land of Oz--L. Frank Baum's creation, Gregory Maguire's Wicked series--co-exist in my head perfectly compatibly, each appreciated in its own right. But I'm not able to do this with Peter Pan writings because I have too personal an interest in the story. Yet I have a decent collection of illustrated versions of Peter Pan, and I love seeing the variety of approaches artists take. I may be distracted by errors I catch, but there are so many beautiful interpretations which I enjoy on their own terms.

Considering fan fiction (amateur and traditionally published, because the latter absolutely does exist and has for centuries) gives me a few more clues. Alternate or contradictory timelines can be confusing, but I find them possible to compartmentalize. Once fanfic begins taking too many liberties with characters and situations as I've come to understand them, I begin to lose interest. Cross-overs and alternate universes, I leave almost entirely to those who can appreciate them. And once characters begin to act in ways that are antithetical to their origins, I wonder why writers don't cut them loose entirely, accept that they are now writing an entirely new piece, and forge forward with that.

In the end, I believe I accept digressions from canon as long as they respect the author's intent and hew closely enough to it that the initial message isn't lost. I like variations that explore aspects of characters and happenings which were absent from the initial work, that find alternate interpretations of actions and motives, that create occurrences and meetings that could well fit into the official canon but weren't initially written into it. Ideas that actually do fit into the original story if you turn it a bit so the light hits it a new way. This is what I'm trying to do with The Stowaway.

Peter Pan flies to Russia

He must, or how else would there be so many beautifully illustrated Russian versions of his story? I've been lucky enough to acquire three of them, from 1971, 1993, and 2010, all showing a love of J.M. Barrie's original tale despite their variance in style.

I find the loose watercolor illustrations from this 1971 Piter Pan, by May Miturich, absolutely charming.

I don't read Cyrillic--I wish I did--but this rendition of the book characters almost makes me feel like I can. Nevertheless, my artist information on these books may well be incorrect. If any of you readers do read Cyrillic and have translations for me, I will gladly add that information to this post.

Never Neverland, as seen in the dreams of May Miturich.

A completely different interpretation, in a folk-influenced, ornamental style, was printed in 1993. The retelling is by Irina Tokmakova, with illustrations by painter Tikhonov.

The black and white illustrations are as lush and intricate as the double-page color plates.

I have a special fondness for this book with its lovely, respectful portrait of J.M. Barrie.

And editions of Peter Pan continue to be printed in Russia, such as this one from 2010 by artist Mikko.

While it doesn't entirely escape the Disney influence (I note also some possible undertones of Anne Graham Johnstone and even Mabel Lucie Attwell) and modern tendency to make Peter a bit more adolescent than he was originally written, the detail of the illustrations shows the artist's fondness for the story.

I was also very pleased to find this plate within. I'd found it online, and it's the header I use for my writing inspiration Tumblr blog (a Tumblr I keep private because unfortunately, it contains a huge number of unattributed images I don't have time to research). I'd never been able to find what book it was from, and it was delightful to find it here.

This seems like an appropriate time to ask if anyone knows where I could find a copy of Piter Pan illustrated by Maxim Mitrafanov. I've been looking for this for some time, to no avail.

Fairies at home

Wherever children are, there are fairies, J. M. Barrie tells us in The Little White Bird. Kensington Gardens in London is filled with them, although they hide behind railings during the day and only come out to carouse at night "after Lock-out."

As for their houses, it is no use looking for them, because they are the exact opposite of our houses. You can see our houses by day but you can't see them by dark. Well, you can see their houses by dark, but you can't see them by day, for they are the colour of night, and I never heard of anyone yet who could see night in the daytime. This does not mean that they are black, for night has its colours just as day has, but ever so much brighter. Their blues and reds and greens are like ours with a light behind them.

Not all fairy houses are so elaborate. Many are constructed from leaves and twigs, stones and feathers. And some are made with help from humans.

Kruckeberg Botanic Garden in Shoreline, Washington, USA, invites children to make fairy houses in their Enchanted Garden area. I found these there last Saturday:

I also managed to get lost in the garden repeatedly, although it's not enormous, ending up over and over at the Enchanted Garden. Leading travelers astray is, of course, a popular game among fairies.

One would expect Tinker Bell to live in just such a house. And in the videos about Pixie Hollow, where Disney tells us Tink lived prior to meeting Peter Pan, the fairies do live in similar structures, decorated with items scavenged from humans, like spoons and shoes.

By the time Tinker Bell meets Peter, she aspires to a more upscale lifestyle:

[T]here was one recess in the wall, no larger than a bird-cage, which was the private apartment of Tinker Bell. It could be shut off from the rest of the house by a tiny curtain, which Tink, who was most fastidious [particular], always kept drawn when dressing or undressing. No woman, however large, could have had a more exquisite boudoir [dressing room] and bed-chamber combined. The couch, as she always called it, was a genuine Queen Mab, with club legs; and she varied the bedspreads according to what fruit- blossom was in season. Her mirror was a Puss-in-Boots, of which there are now only three, unchipped, known to fairy dealers; the washstand was Pie-crust and reversible, the chest of drawers an authentic Charming the Sixth, and the carpet and rugs the best (the early) period of Margery and Robin. There was a chandelier from Tiddlywinks for the look of the thing, but of course she lit the residence herself. Tink was very contemptuous of the rest of the house, as indeed was perhaps inevitable, and her chamber, though beautiful, looked rather conceited, having the appearance of a nose permanently turned up.

By Anne Graham Johnstone, 1988

In The Stowaway, when Vivian Drew sees this little room, she feels a pang of sympathy for the fairy whose life is so unlike the one she desires to live--a sentiment Vivian understands. Of course she would never say this within earshot of Tink, lest she find entire strands of hair yanked mercilessly from her head. Fairies do not care for pity from humankind.

The Mystery of the Red Coat

A year and a half ago, I thought I had found the first instance of Captain Hook in a red coat--illustrations by American Roy Best from 1931. Before then, Hook was depicted in coats of blue and gray. Of course, since the 1957 Disney film (which went into development in 1935), he's generally depicted wearing red.

But now I've learned that British painter Gwynedd M. Hudson had the same idea as Best at around the same time. As Hudson is one of my favorite Peter Pan illustrators, I'm glad now that I decided Jas. should have not only his original blue and gray coats, but red. (Although in The Stowaway, they are reserved for battle and other important occasions.)

 James, splendid in his red coat.

I'm amused how well my characterizations of the crew align with Hudson's.

My visit to the Marchpane children's bookshop at Charing Cross in London turned out to be edifying in this regard. Not only did I get to hold a 1904 first edition Peter and Wendy (with appropriate whimpers and hopes of "someday"), the seller also had a 1931 Hudson first edition with dust jacket (those don't usually survive) which now lives at my house. That was a fantastic surprise.

I have several versions of Peter Pan that include Hudson's illustrations, reprinted in a single color. I knew from pictures I'd seen online that some of the originals were in two or three colors--but in the first edition Hudson, there are many full-color illustrations as well.

It turns out to be almost impossible to find information about Hudson online. However, Antiques Atlas has a profile that gives me far more information than I've been able to find before:

Gwynedd May Hudson, 1882-1932, was a Sussex artist, who studied at Brighton College of Art. She exhibited a painting at the Royal Academy in 1912, but is best know for her much loved illustrations of Alice in Wonderland in 1922 for Hodder & Stoughton and Peter Pan and Wendy in 1931, also for Hodder and Stoughton.

She also did a series of posters for the London Underground 1926-1929, copies of which are in the London Transport Museum. One of these lithographic posters of 'The Zoo' for the Underground achieved a price of £2,750 at Christie's in 2012.

Most sources give Hudson's date of birth as 1909. She might have been a prodigy who published Alice in Wonderland illustrations when she was thirteen,but it's unlikely she exhibited at the Royal Academy at the age of three. I'm also glad to know she didn't die at the age of 33.

Hudson seems to be best known for her Alice paintings.These are easily found reproduced online and for sale from auction houses, and even on mugs and t-shirts.

Peter at the hospital

There is no more fitting place for a Peter Pan purist to visit than London's Great Ormond Street Hospital.

The hospital has had a long association with The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up. In 1929, J.M. Barrie declined to sit on a fundraising committee to help it expand into the vacated Foundling Hospital adjacent--and instead donated the royalties from stage performances of Peter Pan to GOSH, funds which they receive to this day. (For more information about the copyright extension in the UK and Europe that allows the hospital the continuing right to royalty, see the GOSH website. There you'll also find additional history--and better pictures than I have here, but that can't be helped.)

"At one time Peter Pan was an invalid at the Hospital for Sick Children," Barrie said in a GOSH fundraising speech in 1930, "and it was he who put me up to the little thing I did for the hospital."

At one time, the hospital maintained a museum of Peter Pan books and memorabilia. While that museum has fallen victim to the hospital and charity's need for additional space, the collection is still available for public viewing by appointment. Of course, I could hardly visit London and not at least attempt to see the collection. 

The hospital was officially named
Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children in the 1990s,
 as it had become so closely associated with the street.

When I made my appointment, I wasn't certain if I should admit to my involvement with The Stowaway and especially this blog. But I knew I wouldn't be able to keep that to myself and didn't want to spring it upon the staff, so I gathered my courage and confessed via email. And because I did, I was able to have a splendid visit with people who understand my devotion to Mr. Barrie's tale.

The collection being kept in this room was pure
coincidence, I'm sure, but a most fortuitous one.

Christine De Poortere, Peter Pan Director, and Emily Beahan kindly allowed me to babble about my own collection and thoughts about Peter and the Captain, and let me photograph the figurines, plates, magic lantern slides, and other memorabilia that have been given to the hospital over the years. These include the bell that was Tinker Bell's voice in the original 1904 stage production of Peter Pan. And yes, I got to ring it.

The bell in the back right corner was
 used to voice the original Tinker Bell.

GOSH has more Peter Pan books than I do--
two cupboards worth.

Casts of London productions of the play still put on performances at the hospital for patients, as they have done for decades. And Peter's influence is felt throughout the halls.

Art students of the University of Wolverhampton
 created and donated this tiled mural in the late 1980s.

Peter appears where he is not expected, as is his wont.

Since it opened its doors on Valentine's Day of 1852 as the Hospital for Sick Children, GOSH has grown tremendously, expanding into many surrounding buildings in its neighborhood of Bloomsbury, where Barrie lived for a time just around the corner from the original hospital. It's part of the National Health Service, but funds raised from donations help them with redevelopment, research, medical equipment, and support services for families.

The charity staff at GOSH couldn't have been more gracious, and I'm certainly glad I was able to meet them and take the tour. Of course I'm also pleased to know they are still receiving the benefit of Barrie's donation, and putting it to the best of uses.

Ten facts about Captain Hook

As promised! More Captain Hook in the blog this year. (Such a burden.) Some of these details were previously chronicled by J.M. Barrie, while others have been revealed as I work on The Stowaway. (Sources at the end.)

1. Peter Pan has convinced himself that he cut off the hand of Captain Jas. Hook and threw it to the Neverland crocodile. [1] The truth, however, is more complicated and sadder, and took place long before the two met. [3]

2. Books from the Eton library, inscribed with the name "Jacobus Hook," can still occasionally be found in second-hand bookstores. [2]

3. James Hook does fear the crocodile, but no more than he would any large and deadly creature. [3]

4. His hatred of Peter Pan results from the boy killing his men without remorse, tormenting him ceaselessly, and being irrepressibly cocky. [1,3]

5. James Hook is an inveterate clothes horse. The red coats for which he has become known are his battle coats, and the time of The Stowaway, he has three. For regular seafaring, he wears blue or gray. [3]

6. He has patterned his appearance after King Charles II, most spectacularly in the long black ringlets in which he wears his hair. [1] While many artists--mostly post-Disney--depict him in stockings and knee-breeches, he learned early on that such dress was not practical for piracy. [3]

7. Hook's eyes are the blue of forget-me-nots. [1] Barrie describes him as "blackavized" [1], or swarthy. Perhaps this coloration can be traced to his Welsh ancestry. [3]

8. His black hair comes from his mother's side of the family, while the chin he near-despises is a legacy from his thoroughly-despised father [3].

9. James Hook was a (largely unwilling) boy soprano. [3] He also played flute [2] and harpsichord. [1]

10. The Captain detests fiction, feeling that he gets enough make-believe during the time he spends in Neverland. Rather, he prefers histories for the understand they give him of the larger world. [3]

Bonus: The ship the Captain sails at the time of Peter Pan and The Stowaway is the third incarnation of the Jolly Roger. [3]

Sources:
[1] Peter Pan, J.M. Barrie, 1911
[2] "Hook at Eton," speech given by J. M. Barrie in 1927
[3] The Stowaway, by your blogger, still in progress