Creepy!

In 1983, Holiday House published a new, but faithful, version of Little Red Riding Hood (by the Brothers Grimm), retold and illustrated by Trina Schart Hyman. It won a Caldecott Honor, ensuring its subsequent appearance on my bookshelf.

I'm not sure why I forgot this: the Little Red Riding Hood story is creepy. And dark and violent, too.

First, Hyman loads her version with Puritan-like word choices, such as wicked, sinner, and saved. The antagonist displays all sorts of crafty, gluttonous characteristics. There are religious images, too: the girl takes a meal of bread and wine to her ailing grandmother, a last supper she doesn't get to partake in until after she's resurrected. And the last words of the story evoke a strong sense of moral expectations and judgment. Even though Red Riding Hood thoughtlessly gave the wolf explicit directions straight to grandmother's house and then wandered around gathering flowers for her, actions that would eventually lead to their doom, she comforts herself with these thoughts: "She had at least minded her manners."

But wait, there's more. Here are my favorite, albeit rather violent lines, from the story:

- " ... he carefully cut open the wolf's stomach."

- "At first cut, he saw the red velvet cloak, and after a few more slashes ..."

- "The huntsman skinned the wolf and took the pelt home to nail on his door."

Gross! And yet, even more religious imagery.

So, where does Little Red Riding Hood lead teachers and students? Obviously, a fabulous discussion on religious symbolism would work well, especially paired with, say, The Scarlet Letter (check out the "red" in both titles!), any early American literature, or Toni Morrison's Beloved.

The book is also well known and much-loved for its remarkable illustrations, most certainly the reason for the Caldecott Honor. The textile depictions alone are worth minute scrutiny. The author's use of sunlight and shadow support her themes, too, plus her detailed renderings of plant life would make a botanist go wild. (I'm not a botanist, but my amateurish gardener self fell hard for Hyman's flora -- think Beatrix Potter in Germanic colors.) All that is to say, I see fine uses of this book in a biology or art class, too.