Mr. Popper’s Penguins

Today marks the birthday of Richard Atwater, born in 1892. He graduated with honors from the University of Chicago, where he taught Greek. But for most of his career, Atwater worked as a journalist, book review editor, and columnist for newspapers. He dabbled in publishing—first he wrote an opera, then a children’s book Doris and the Trolls, both now long forgotten. But then after seeing a motion picture about Richard Byrd’s first Antarctic expedition, Atwater wrote another story—about a man who fell in love with the birds of this snowy continent—Mr. Popper’s Penguins.

Sometimes talented husband-and-wife teams—H.A. and Margret Rey or Crockett Johnson and Ruth Krauss—intentionally work together on a book. In the case of Richard and Florence Atwater, their collaboration grew out of necessity. After attending University of Chicago, Florence Carroll married Richard Atwater in 1921. When her husband had a stroke, she needed to support the family and published pieces in The New Yorker and The Atlantic. After two publishers turned down her husband’s Mr. Popper’s Penguins manuscript, she edited and rewrote sections, adding a bit more reality to a very fanciful story. When she sent it to Little Brown & Company, she wrote: “I know that so-called progressive education assumes that the modern chld must live entirely in a world of cold reality. Nevertheless, my own 11-year-old daughter, who reads everything, complains so loudly about the number of juveniles with a pioneer American background, that I wonder whether other children might not be entertained by our penguins.” Other children were; the novel won a  Newbery Honor and has stood the test of time.

Ideal for seven- to ten-year-old children who have just mastered reading skills, Mr. Popper’s Penguins features a house painter, a Walter Mitty dreamer who wants to travel particularly to the North and South Poles. Mr. Popper even writes to his hero, Admiral Drake, currently exploring Antarctica. Then, unexpectedly, the admiral sends him a gift—a penguin, given the name Captain Cook, who comes to live with the Poppers and completely transforms their lives. Although the story rests firmly on nonsense, it is related with such a matter-of-fact style that it all seems plausible. Mr. Popper remodels his house to create an ideal environment for Captain Cook. He has holes drilled in the refrigerator so the Captain can live there. After a female penguin arrives, and they have ten children, the troop of twelve travels the United States as a performing act.

There are no lessons here or morals, just fun and nonsense. Robert Lawson, who can delineate character brilliantly with only black line, provided fabulous drawings of all the penguins and their antics. They look so real you can almost believe these events are happening. If anyone in your family is suffering from post-holiday blues, pick up Mr. Popper’s Penguins in honor of both Richard and Florence Atwater. For 140 pages you will be reminded of one of the truths about our classic children’s books: no matter what is going on in reality, they make us happy while we stay within their pages.

Here’s a passage from Mr. Popper’s Penguins: