Dr. V’s favorite classics: Bea and Mr. Jones

After the other day’s ranty post about an overrated classic, today let’s celebrate an underrated one!

Bea and Mr. Jones, by Amy Schwartz. Harcourt, 1982. 51qxvu6uetl

Dr. V’s take:

We’re familiar with the Freaky Friday plot: two people switch places (or even bodies) for a finite period of time and live life in each other’s shoes. Bonus points if the two people butt heads or appear to be opposites in any way at the beginning of the story, because the journey to mutual respect by the end is all the more gratifying.

Besides Freaky Friday‘s many (many!) remakes—-so many that people don’t realize that the original Freaky Friday was a young adult book from 1972—-this plot device has been employed by such illustrious works as Olsen twins movie It Takes Two, Eddie Murphy/Dan Akroyd movie Trading Places, the candy-maker episode of I Love Lucy, and multiple Disney Channel Original Movies.

The Freaky Friday genre peaked early, you guys. I give you Bea and Her Father—-one of the world’s most underrated children’s books that has everything great about this trading-places plot but also turns the tables on it. As I’ve noted before, pulling off a surprise ending in a children’s book is a rare, beautiful skill; this one will make you “HA!” out loud.

In addition to the adorable premise that Bea would be just as tired of pasting things on other things in kindergarten as her father is of meetings and paperwork, the illustrations—-in that classic line-y textured style*—-of five-year-old Bea in a suit at business meetings are hilarious and the ease with which everyone accepts their swap is delightfully weird.

Bea and Mr. Jones is also refreshingly 1980s about Bea being a girl. Compare these LEGO ads that circulated a few years ago with this one, and you can kind of see what I mean. Bea and Mr. Jones imagines a world in which a five-year-old girl is readily accepted as an executive with no resistance whatsoever, and she finds that it suits her well, even though there are no princesses in sight. We’ve made progress since the 1980s in many ways, but its possible that we’ve lost some things, too: if you’re weary of the constant drumbeat of princesses and sparkles, a girl protagonist for whom the “girl” part doesn’t have to be expressed in that exact way, and who feels no need to explain herself to anyone, is a great find.

But the surprise ending is really the best part. Go read the book before you read anymore of this post, because I really don’t want to ruin it for you.

Go on!

Did you do it?

Okay.

****spoiler warning****

We know how this story was supposed to go: everybody was supposed to learn a Very Important Lesson about how it feels to be someone other than yourself. Or, as we used to hear it phrased back when we had a POTUS who knew how to do sentences, how it feels to “climb into [another’s] skin and walk around in it.” Empathy, compassion, blah blah blah.

But Bea and her father are like, eh. Instead of learning to appreciate their own lives and respect each other’s struggles more, Bea and her father find that they really like being an ad exec/kindergartner. It turns out that bosses at ad advertising firms are on the same wavelength as strong-willed five-year-olds, while the values of kindergarten skew more toward cooperation and sharing (and of course, the ability to reach things is highly coveted). Bea and her father declare the swap a permanent success and everybody lives happily ever after. It is silly and charming and brilliant and a perfect book.

office-door

 

 

*I tried to find out if this style has a name, but came up empty. If you know about it, leave a comment or shoot me message!

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