Someone Who Cares a Whole Awful Lot:
The Rhetoric of Dr. Seuss’s Political Parable
Children’s stories that stand the test of time are alike in having an important, dual aim – to both entertain and teach. This characteristic can be found in the work of authors such as A. A. Milne, J. K. Rowling and C. S. Lewis, all groundbreakers in the world of children’s literature. Milne teaches values of friendship in Winnie-the-Pooh, Rowling delivers lessons of loyalty and courage in her Harry Potter series, and Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia provides strong Christian ideals. As with these three examples, most of the lessons found in children’s literature teach fundamental moral values that can be ingested by a young audience. However, now and again an author comes along who looks at the highest feat expected of a children’s story, grins, and raises the bar. Dr. Seuss was one of those authors.
Arguably the most successful and well-loved children’s writer of all time, Dr. Seuss expanded the limits of the genre when he combined children’s stories with politics. It was a bold decision and one that could easily have ended disastrously. Instead, this choice was one of many ingenious moves that launched Seuss’s illustrious career and a devoted following that is still maintained today. While Seuss is best known for the delightful nonsensicality of green breakfast food and a cat in a hat, the backbone of his stories is often much more serious. His success is both exceptional and undeniable, which raises a simple question with a seemingly boundless answer: how did he do it? How did a man who wrote to children about red fish, blue fish, effectively incorporate complex political agendas into his stories?
The rhetoric of Dr. Seuss is a topic that could fill libraries, and I will only attempt to address one aspect of it here. In this paper, I will examine the rhetoric behind Dr. Seuss’s use of parable to deliver political lessons to an adolescent audience. My analysis will emphasize two aspects of Seussian parables – their entertainment value and their relatability. Seuss never sacrificed charm for a lesson, and his silly rhymes and outlandish characters are as important a part of his work as his political agenda. In fact, because this delightful style keeps his stories from being lectures, it ironically upholds the lesson being taught by fostering a more receptive audience. Additionally, Seuss’s parables are relatable to children by transforming complex political situations into clear, elementary messages. He uses basic symbols to represent political figures and positions, and expresses simple sentiments regarding them. I will offer some background on Seuss’s initial career and political bent, and then analyze two of his stories that illustrate his use of political parable: Horton Hears a Who, which supports the struggling Japanese after WWII, and The Lorax, a solemn warning against the dangers of environmental pollution. The first is an example of the charm and light-heartedness Seuss often applied to his agenda, while the second demonstrates a more serious, multifaceted side to the author.
The Beginning
Seuss’s initial start as a children’s writer was unsuccessful, and he broke from the genre for a time to be an editorial cartoonist for PM, a left-leaning daily newspaper. Considering Seuss’s start as a political cartoonist, one could argue that he was a parabolist from the beginning. While his cartoons are far more biting than his children’s stories, both follow the parabolic structure of an oft satirical metaphor that makes a point. His work with PM quickly established Seuss’s own political bent: his cartoons attacked the likes of Hitler and Mussolini, as well as segregation policies and American isolationists who resisted entry into WWII (Dreier). When he eventually moved on to children’s literature, he took his cartoon experience and political agenda with him. Horton Hears a Who is a clear anti-aggression tale, while The Lorax, his later but much-loved masterpiece, addresses environmentalism and consumerism, a twofold issue that particularly incited the author. Horton, the first story due for analysis, could be read as an apology for his racist depictions of the Japanese during his newspaper days. Seuss wrote his first political children’s story about a kindly elephant’s effort to save the tiny inhabitants of a speck of dust, thus paying homage to the plight of the Japanese after the bombing of Hiroshima.
“No Matter How Small”: Addressing Little People in Horton
Horton Hears a Who features an elephant named Horton who discovers the Whos, tiny creatures in danger of extermination. Horton promises to help the Whos, but is mocked when he tries to involve the other jungle animals. In the end, the Whos are saved when they join voices to validate their existence, giving meaning to the story’s famous line: “A person’s a person, no matter how small” (Seuss, 4). Some supposed the story to be a defense of minorities in general, or even a sponsor of the pro-life movement. However, Seuss’s visits to Japan after the war and Horton’s dedication to a Japanese friend indicate that the book is an appeal to aid the struggling country (Fielding, 2).
One key aspect of the Seussian parable is that it could be stripped of its agenda (and therefore its identity as parable) and still retain its value as a wildly entertaining story. By keeping the literary craft of political works like Horton a first priority, Seuss does not simply deliver a story with two fine qualities – rather his work is a double-edged sword with an exponential capacity. Horton’s fantastical nature clandestinely works to propel its message forward, and it is a picture of Seuss’s rhetoric at its finest.
Where but in the world of Seuss could politics achieve such whimsy? Horton includes fascinating characters, many of them animals, like a “sour kangaroo”, “three big jungle monkeys” called the Wickersham brothers, and a “black-bottomed eagle named Vlad Vlad-i-koff” (6, 14, 15). The charmingly tiny Whos are the most fanciful part of the story, as the mayor of Who-ville attests that “ ‘I’m too small to be seen but I’m mayor of a town that is friendly and clean’ ” (12). And of course there is Horton, the kind and faithful elephant who delivers the story’s memorable refrain (4). When Horton realizes that “the speck voice was talking”, the story’s young readers surely experience true awe (10). When the speck is doomed to “boil in a hot steaming kettle of beezle-nut oil” that awe turns to dread, and then finally to triumph when the Whos prove that “they ARE persons, no matter how small” (22, 33). Finally, the whole enchanting story is delivered in Seuss’s classic verse. He seems to take extra care to make the rhymes crisp and active, shown in one of the book’s opening passages:
So Horton stopped splashing. He looked toward the sound. “That’s funny,” thought Horton. “There’s no one around.” Then he heard it again! Just a very faint yelp as if some tiny person were calling for help. “I’ll help you,” said Horton. “But who are you? Where?” He looked and he looked. He could see nothing there but a small speck of dust blowing past through the air. (1-2)
By presenting his readers with unique characters, a dynamic plot and sing-song verse, Seuss keeps parables like Horton light and fun. Furthermore, when he combines these elements with a political message, it becomes a shrewd rhetorical means of teaching through diversion. Children can enjoy the story of Horton and the Whos without ever knowing that the object of their amusement has an underlying aim.
Another rhetorical feature of Horton – one that does even more work for Seuss’s agenda – is its relatability to children. Seuss does not try to capture the complexity and distinctive nature of Japan’s dire situation. He does not assign a different symbol or character to every detail of the actuality being represented. Instead, he simplifies his political stance with humble, overarching symbols and foundational sentiments that reach the heart of the issue.
From the opening of the story, Horton exhibits kindness and honesty when he overhears the vocal speck and imagines who could be making the sound: “‘…some poor little person who’s shaking with fear that he’ll blow in the pool! He has no way to steer! I’ll just have to save him’” (4). Here, Horton’s simple compassion immediately endears him to the audience, who is also given a very tangible picture of the Whos, described as “…’a family, for all that we know! A family with children just starting to grow’” (7). Not only does Seuss personify the invisible Whos, but their invisibility actually adds to their validity by putting them in danger and thus evoking pity. The villains of the story are also soon established, and given negative hallmarks such as “sour” and “black-bottomed” (6, 15). Throughout the story, Seuss invests his readers by appealing to their emotions. The poor Whos undergo many frightening, if appropriately tame, ordeals, from being dropped “somewhere inside of a great patch of clovers a hundred miles wide” to their near demise in a “‘hot steaming kettle of beezle-nut oil’” (16, 22). When they are finally saved “‘by the Smallest of ALL’” and even the kangaroo loses her sourness, there is a true sense of both victory and community (33).
At every turn, Seuss presents his young readers with characters that they can relate to – a friendly elephant, a grumpy kangaroo, and tiny creatures who need help. Most importantly, the uncomplicated notion that even little people matter is so ideal in that it actually addresses little people. If nothing else, children surely understand what it is to be small and need all the more love, and it seems that Seuss thought conditions with Japan were equally straight-forward.
“UNLESS”: Seuss Asks For More in The Lorax
The Lorax begins by introducing the mysterious Once-ler, who goes back in time to tell about a beautiful land filled with Truffula trees, Brown Bar-ba-loots, and Swomee-Swans. On seeing the bright trees, the Once-ler begins chopping them down and making Thneeds out of their silky tufts, even when a funny creature called the Lorax begs him to stop. Filled with greed, the Once-ler builds a smog-emitting factory and chops until there are no trees left, forcing the Lorax and his animal friends to leave.
The Lorax is Seuss’s most respected and inspired story, and while it contains all the hallmarks of his classic style, it does something his other political parables do not. The Lorax is lengthy, complex and even grim. While Horton can be taken to reflect many different situations, The Lorax’s message cannot be mistaken: it is a clear warning against the environmental havoc caused by consumerism and greed. Like in Horton, Seuss relays his message using entertainment and relatability, but here the entertainment is more solemn and the relatability denser.
Seuss sets the stage by creating an interesting yet eerie atmosphere within the first few lines: “At the far end of town where the Grickle-grass grows and the wind smells slow-and-sour when it blows and no birds ever sing excepting old crows...” (Seuss, 1). The Once-ler is given a similarly sinister description as a hidden creature who “lurks in his Lerkim, cold under the roof” and “peeks out of the shutters” (4). The strange setting combined with the story’s opening question about the Lorax’s identity does much to pique an interest in what’s to come. A different scene is soon presented, one where “the grass was still green and the pond was still wet and the clouds were still clean” (8). Seuss paints a charming picture of bright-tufted Truffula trees, teddy-bear inspired Bar-ba-loots, and Humming Fish splashing about in a crystal-clear pond. Like in Horton, the atmosphere is pleasant and fantastical, but things soon change for the worse. When the Once-ler begins hacking down Truffula trees, the Lorax is introduced, a “shortish. And oldish. And brownish. And mossy” little creature who speaks for the trees (15). Throughout the story, things go from bad to worse as the Lorax sends the starving Bar-ba-loots and choking Swomee-Swans away from the barren wasteland that the Once-ler’s factory has created. While Horton entertains through charm, The Lorax puts its readers on the edge of their seat, wondering if and how things will get better with each page turned. The story ends with the guilt-ridden Once-ler alone and surrounded by his crumbling empire, and while Seuss fulfills his promise to capture the attention of his readers, they are left with an anticlimactic finale.
Unlike Horton, The Lorax’s political transparency does not allow for seemingly light amusement; Seuss’s readers know they are being preached to. Here, Seuss uses entertainment in a more pointed way. He paints gripping pictures of a beautiful natural landscape, that landscape’s painful deterioration at the hands of pollution, and the empty wilderness that ensues when it is finally destroyed. Furthermore, Seuss keeps his audience guessing from the first page to the last. Who is the cagy Once-ler and how does he know so much about the Lorax? Will the Lorax convince the Once-ler to stop chopping down Truffula Trees? Will the Brown Bar-ba-loots and Swomee-Swans truly leave forever? Will everything be okay in the end? The light-hearted nature of Horton practically guarantees a happy ending, but The Lorax promises no such respite.
Like its methods of entertainment, the relatability of The Lorax is advanced in that it requires more from its readers. Both the characters and the values are more complex and pointed, as Seuss seems desperate to deliver his political message as clearly as possible. However, like his other parables, he maintains an air of simplicity and universality that keeps The Lorax accessible.
The two title characters exhibit certain intricacies while remaining firmly established as protagonist and antagonist. Whereas Horton’s protagonist is peaceful and good-natured, the Lorax speaks “with a voice that was sharpish and bossy” (15). Horton attempts to help the Whos through pleas, but the Lorax fights for his Truffula trees. Throughout the story, he actively contests the Once-ler, berating him about the Gluppity-Glupp and Schloppity-Schlopp he is creating, and accusing him of being “‘crazy with greed’” (17). Despite the Lorax’s irritability, his concern for the wellbeing of the trees and wildlife proves his good nature: “‘my poor Bar-ba-loots are all getting the crummies because they have gas, and no food, in their tummies! They loved living here. But I can't let them stay…Good luck, boys,’ he cried. And he sent them away” (23-24). Unlike the sour kangaroo, whose very name declares her badness, the Once-ler is given ample room to argue his case. Seuss uses sarcasm to suggest his corrupt nature, such as when the starving Bar-ba-loots are sent away: “‘I, the old Once-ler, felt sad as I watched them all go. BUT... business is business! And business must grow regardless of crummies in tummies, you know’” (25). While Seuss does not brand the Once-ler as he usually does his antagonists, the Once-ler’s insistent claim that the useless Thneeds are what “everyone, EVERYONE, EVERYONE needs” stands in stark opposition to the Lorax’s care for the living things around him. If there is any doubt about the Once-ler, it is eliminated at the story’s end, when “‘all that was left 'neath the bad smelling-sky was my (the Once-ler’s) big empty factory’“ (34).
Horton relates to children by stooping to their level; The Lorax does so by raising them up with challenging characters that send an equally challenging message. Yet, while The Lorax is undoubtedly Seuss’s most complex political parable, he still achieves a level of ease and strategy that is important for the genre. Seuss begins by creating a pleasant environment, and then communicates the negativity of greed by showing its effect on that environment. He uses the Thneed, a clearly useless creation, to demonstrate the futility of what destroys the Lorax and his friends. He personifies the creatures who suffer simple yet gripping calamities, like being hungry and unable to breathe. Even the Once-ler, who stands to gain from the pollution, is left wasting the years away with nothing, while his “‘buildings have fallen apart’” (37). The Lorax’s message, while more advanced, is still accessible: when we put the value of Thneeds above living creatures, we hurt what truly matters, and we especially hurt ourselves. The Once-ler’s call to action at the end further breaks the fourth wall, and one can imagine Seuss looking directly into the eyes of his young audience: “’Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not’” (38).
Horton Hears a Who and The Lorax are strong examples of the exceptional stature Seuss was able to achieve through children’s stories. His ability to impart politics to children through the captivation and modesty of his parables was truly remarkable, and a strong testament to the power of his rhetoric. Whether or not his young readers come away with a perfect understanding of war, violence, greed, and pollution, Seuss has surely won. He enthralled them with his whimsy, engaged them with his ambiance, and affected them with stories that, for all their fantasy, are somehow real. Sometimes he hid his lesson behind charm and lightheartedness, and sometimes he brought it into the spotlight, but whether is young readers know it or not, Seuss has left an indelible mark on their minds and hearts.
Works Cited
Dreier, Peter. “Dr. Seuss’s Progressive Politics.” Tikkun 2011: 28+. Print. 15 Dec. 2014.
Fielding, Ellen Wilson. “What Horton Heard.” Human Life Review Winter 2012: 12–18. Print. 15 Dec. 2014
Geisel, Theodore S. Horton Hears a Who. 1st ed. New York: Dr. Seuss Enterprise, 1961. Print. 15 Dec. 2014.
Geisel, Theodore S. The Lorax. New York: Random House, 1971. 15 Dec. 2014.