record jacket
Since the days when Carl Sandburg used to tell these stories to his own little girls, they have become very special in the hearts of children and grownups everywhere. There is about them a unique flavor of American folklore – a corn-husky, midwestern vitality that makes them as dear to us as the Andersen fairy tales to the Danes and the Grimm fairy tales to the Germans. But just like those, the Rootabaga Stories have charm that goes far beyond countryside characteristics. Their fantasy is whimsical and mischievous and there is a shrewd earthiness and an almost grotesque humor aiming to delight every child. And there is poetry in the stories as well – from the first sentence to the last, each story is full of the poetry of speech and life and whimsy. “then they all walked out, first the umbrella that feeds the fishes fresh buns every morning, then the umbrella that fixes the clocks free of charge, then the umbrella that peels the potatoes with a pencil and makes pink ink with the peelings, then the umbrella that eats the rats with pepper and salt and a clean napkin, then the umbrella that washes the dishes with a wiper and wipes the dishes with a washer, then the umbrella that covers the chimney with a dish-pan before it rains, then the umbrella that runs to the corner to get corners for the handkerchiefs. They all laid their straw hats at the feet of the stranger because he came without knocking or telling anybody beforehand and because he said he is the umbrella that holds up the sky, that big umbrella the rain goes through first of all, the firs and the last umbrella.”
The stories beg to be spoken aloud, with mischief in the voice and soft easy rhythms in the speech, and only Carl Sandburg can do them just that way.
“And,” said Peter Potato Blossom Wishes, “you have to listen close up with your ears and be nice when you are listening.”
Caedmon Records, 1958TC 1089