Noddy, We'Re Not In Toyland Any More

More than soap operas, the Kennedy family or even Leon-ardo di Caprio, the US cherishes its cartoon characters. Even when they're actually imports into the States, the American people have never discriminated betw-een Archie and Superman on one hand and Teletubbies on the other. That, of course, is hardly surprising in a country where a cartoon mouse and a duck that eschews underpants have long been better known than most Vice-Presidents.

The newest Briton to cross the seas is also one of the most beloved children's characters of all time. But as Noddy and his friends prepare to take US television by storm with a new series, Noddy in Toyland, they may find that things have changed substantially from the days when Blyton ruled Brittania.

 

For one, it isn't clear yet which version of Noddy is going to be travelling. Blyton's little man in the funny cap had a cast of friends who were distinctly politically incorrect. Gollywog was summarily ejected from several books a decade or so ago when right-thinking Britons realised to their horror that he actually represented a (gulp!) racial stereotype. And if Golly's presence was deemed too inflammatory for Southall, is the land that is home to persons of colour really going to welcome him with open arms?

Big Ears, Noddy's crusty old friend, might find a whole new constituency in the States, albeit one that Blyton would never have bargained for. Some years back, the relationship between Noddy and Big Ears came under close scrutiny as the odd couple was claimed by gay activists as not just odd, but clearly queer. Think about it, went the logic: you have two bachelors who live on their own, do not have significant others or the opposite sex, and engage from time to time in what looks suspiciously like lover's quarrels.

This line of argument, not unsurprisingly, provoked an uproar of protest in the UK, as various academic and non-academic groups pointed out that Blyton was hardly likely to be secretly endorsing the same-sex couple in the age of relative innocence that she lived in. But in the more emancipated States, there is a genuine chance that Noddy in Toyland could become an icon for children whose same-sex `parents' have at long last stumbled upon a role model.

Tessie Bear posed a much more uncomfortable problem all along, since she represented a truly treacly feminine stereotype. Tessie Bear has strong maternal instincts, bakes cakes and is very good at being helpless in chaotic situations. Tch tch, said the dissectors of Blyton, this is not what Germaine Greer would have liked at all. But some bright spark solved that one last year, in a thesis that suggested that Blyton was actually sending up (and thereby subverting) traditional notions of a woman's role. So that's all right, then, so long as the kiddies catch on.

And that brings us to the more tricky question of how successful Noddy will be. To some extent, educationists are hoping that Noddy in Toyland will be the white knight they've been searching for. Teletubbies was (and is) a phenomenally successful serial, and I know from the experience of a few friends and parents that it is completely addictive from a child's viewpoint. But taken in toto, the characters in Teletubbies displayed a total vocabulary that Sylvester Stallone would have been ashamed of, and that rang alarm bells for teachers who realised that Teletubby-watchers were adding precisely zilch to their language skills.

Blyton, on the other hand, has long been recommended reading for children not just because she spins morality tales, but because she did introduce a larger range of words into her books than child- ren were supposed to be able to comprehend. In other words, Blyton, like all good children's writers, was actually instrumental in enhancing English language skills in exactly the same way that Sukumar Ray enhanced a knowledge of rhythm, poetry and vocabulary with Abol Tabol.

The biggest question, though, is how far Noddy in Toyland will be able to wean children away from more dangerous fare. Will funny little Noddy be able to take on the banality of Teletubbies? At a higher level, will Noddy, Big Ears and Co really be able to do battle against such redoubtable enemies as Bart Simpson, Beavis and Butthead and (horror of horrors) the talking turd who's the star of South Park?

If this was the plot of one of Blyton's books -- bar the talking turd, of course, I don't think she would have liked that very much -- Noddy would naturally emerge victorious. But this is the real world, and it's just possible that Noddy might need some help. Mr Plod, where are you?