The Jolly Postman eats prison food? (9/4/09)

Dudes, I don't need anyone to tell me that you're a lawless bunch. I am perfectly acquainted with the sad fact that my readership comprises a bunch of window-busting, property-destroying, little old lady–robbing thugs. (And you're all just itching to pull the plug on America's grandmothers, aren't you?)

Well, you're in luck. 'Cause in the UK, hardened criminals eat better than hospital patients. Apparently the British sick "face barriers in getting good nutrition." That's comforting. Glad NO ONE has decent health care. It would be such a shame to be the only country in this sad-sack medical mess, all by our lonesome.

Too bad this syringe isn't full of a complete roast beef dinner, topped off with blueberry pie. Oh, Willy Wonka. Where are you when you're needed most?

In cheerier news, The Jolly Postman is The. Most. Wonderful. Book. Ever.


Yesterday, I told y'all how much I lurve books with illustrations and gilt-edged pages and trinkets and other frippery. I was, I confess, referring to books for grown-ups.

But now we turn to children's books: The Brits have a long and often quite satisfactory history with their postal service. The British post was even, once upon a time, something one could set one's watch by.

Enter Allan and Janet Ahlberg's The Jolly Postman. You guys! The postman delivers the letters, then stays for a cuppa while the recipients read them! And there are real letters you can pull out and read!

The Jolly Postman

This may sound a tad—ahem—puerile, but allow me to explain:

• The witch from Hansel and Gretel gets a sales flyer advertising, among other things, "Big Brooms for the Larger Witch";


• Cinderella receives a note from a publisher enclosing a wee book telling an abbreviated version of her story (and the book has its own price and ISBN! OMG!);


• Goldilocks receives a birthday card with fake money enclosed;


• and, you know, et cetera.

ADORBS! I need to own a copy of this book. And of The Jolly Christmas Postman. And of The Jolly Pocket Postman. Loves it!

What ho, a letter?! Don't tell me—Little Red Riding Hood is illegitimate!

While we're here in the post office, as it were, here's some postal trivia for you: One of my 19th-century literary darlings, Anthony Trollope, worked for the postal service for his entire life (and wrote some 40 long-as-eff novels to boot). He got up at ass o'clock in the morning, wrote for four hours, then went to work. He even introduced the postbox to the UK.

Rockin' the postbox. Thanks, Trollope.

In sum: Team Postman! Team Trollope! Rah! Rah! Rah!