{"id":64952,"date":"2014-01-14T17:51:28","date_gmt":"2014-01-14T22:51:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=64952"},"modified":"2014-01-14T18:11:06","modified_gmt":"2014-01-14T23:11:06","slug":"to-whinny-perchance-to-dream","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2014\/01\/14\/to-whinny-perchance-to-dream\/","title":{"rendered":"To Whinny, Perchance to Dream"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"discontented<\/a><\/p>\n

It\u2019s Nice That, the art and design site, directed our attention to this assortment of vintage Ladybird Books<\/a>, a British children\u2019s imprint known in its heyday for pocket-size hardbacks on an exhaustive array of topics. Your average Ladybird is accessible, vividly and impeccably illustrated, and almost heartbreakingly earnest. See, for example, 1951\u2019s The Discontented Pony<\/a><\/i>, which traffics in a kind of postwar ennui and Weltzschmerz <\/i>unknown to the youth of today.<\/p>\n

\n

This pony story tells of a very discontented pony named Merrylegs. Even though having everything a little pony needs\u2014a field to run about in, a kindly farmer owner, and farmyard friends Daisy and Squeaker\u2014Merrylegs still begins to feel discontented with his lot in life.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

We know the feeling, Merrylegs. We know the feeling.<\/p>\n

Ladybirds, also the subject of a recent BBC documentary<\/a>, tend to bring out the collector\u2019s impulse\u2014they\u2019re legion, they\u2019re handsomely made, and they speak to the tastes of a bygone era, so of course you\u2019ll want to own them all. It\u2019s worth perusing the whole Ladybird corpus<\/a>, actually. Some gems, in no particular order:<\/p>\n