Making Dahl Nice

It’s been in the news–Roald Dahl’s publisher and estate are releasing new, less offensive versions of his books. “Cloud Men” are now “Cloud People.” Augustus Gloop isn’t “fat”—he’s “enormous.” Miss Trunchbull no longer has a “horsey” face. (I don’t get that one at all, but…) It’s definitely okay for women to wear wigs, in case you were wondering.

People have opinions. Salman Rushdie, for one. I appreciated Helen Lewis’s thoughtful piece in The Atlantic.

Okay, well, tastes change. Audiences change. Jokes that were once edgy are revealed as downright cruel. And Dahl’s estate does have the right to make alterations if they think it’s in the best interest of the author and his work.

And yet. I don’t feel good about it.

These changes are so superficial, for one thing. Augustus Gloop’s character is one long, repeated, anti-fat stereotype. Calling him “enormous” changes nothing. If the book’s anti-fatness is problematic enough, let’s not read it anymore–but let’s not dance around it by changing one word and thinking we’ve accomplished something.

But there’s something else here too. It’s Dahl. Dahl’s work is nasty (as Helen Lewis sagely points out). Mean. Angry. Sharped-edge and judgmental. (I’ve never quite gotten over reading some of Dahl’s short stories, written for adults, when I was around twelve or so.) We’re supposed to judge Augustus Gloop for being both fat and greedy (and yes, it’s not fair to treat those things and synonymous, and yes, that’s what Dahl s doing), Veruca Salt for being spoiled and bratty, Mike Teevee for being screen-obsessed, and Violet Beuregard for…um…chewing gum a lot, I guess.

I think that’s part of what kids love about Dahl. There’s the joyful wish-fulfillment (come on into this chocolate factory!) and then there’s the savage disapproval of everybody who doesn’t deserve to be there. Stretch them in the gum-stretching machine! Throw them down the garbage chute! Drive them out of the book and away, away, away.

Kids are judgmental. They are learning the rules, spoken and unspoken, around them. They can be unmerciful to peers who don’t measure up. We call it “tattling” and try to get them to stop, but we can’t. They can’t. It’s such an absorbing project, figuring out the rules. It goes on for a lifetime.

And there’s also truth in these books about what those with power do to those without. Will Miss Trunchbull still be an unsettlingly mean character if she doesn’t have a horsey face? Probably. But she’ll always be appalling. She’ll always leave adults feeling queasy and children feeling thrilled and scared and somehow, deep down, vindicated.

Dahl was not a nice person. He wasn’t a nice writer. But it seems that somehow, he stayed close to some feelings of childhood, the ones that we as adults don’t always like to think about. The bitter sense of powerlessness. The thrill of rule-breaking. The triumph in watching others get punished.

Is cherishing what’s intense and powerful in Dahl’s writing worth the nastiness? That seems to me to the be the deal we should be thinking about. Not whether “enormous” is somehow less offensive than “fat.”