As one does these days, I asked an LLM to help me detect if I had a bowdlerized version, and while I'm sure the stories were already softened in translation, they're still far more 'rowdy' than stories you can easily find today. In the old folk tales, things just happen. Fairness isn't guaranteed; and sometimes a guy makes a deal and gets eaten anyway; and sometimes someone dies for no reason.
I wonder if the changing narrative structure of modern stories is a result of our improved civilization. In a world where you're probably reaching adulthood with your brothers and sisters without encountering any sibling death, a story with 'unfair' death and destruction probably feels out of place. Nonetheless, I sometimes am saddened when I read people talk about stories in media and how they 'glorify' bad behaviour or 'send the wrong message'. A thing I really treasure from childhood is the breadth of storytelling: not all stories were an Aesop's fable.
But perhaps that's not true. I suspect the truth is that with lowered barriers to publishing there are just more stories told. The ones from the past that we know are twice selected: once for cultural value, and once because the writer himself was selected. Today, anyone can write, so it's the same problem as we encounter when we look at personal websites today. Sampled randomly in 2004 you would get interesting ones easily. Today, that is not so easy.
This is most easily visible with foreign media. The Chinese stories I've read are alien and strange and interesting; and the Japanese ones take unexpected turns. But they're going through that selection process as well. So it's probably just a boring selection effect.
Still, I've got the old Grimms. I'm keeping that one as an heirloom.
Children are capable of understanding cruelty, pain, death, suffering, in young age, overprotectiveness is why we have many >20 y/o people who can't speak for themselves and are overly shy.
Hm, that gave me an idea... sounds like a fun way to learn Italian if you already have some basic knowledge?
The good Tom and Jerry episodes are completely devoid of tact and care, yet marvellous as entertainment .
I have no idea if this stayed only in Italy or if it has been translated to other languages.
Also, definitely likely you will remember some abridged version or Disneys'.
I'm not convinced of the argument that it's making fun of contemporary children books: Pinocchio regularly misbehaves and gets punished for it, which seems pretty much in line with contemporary books.
We decided at some point that these themes were no longer fit for children despite generations having been raised with it. That’s probably the Victorian era, when childhood is said to have been “invented.”
In 19th century Italian (but maybe also other countries') children had to grow quickly to cope with life and work brutalities. They often had no mother, died while giving them birth, and started working at 7 or 8 to help their families.
In 20th century, instead, they have been constantly exposed to either real life violence and harshness (like war) or fiction brutality from movies, cartoons and video games.
Nope, Pinocchio is not that weird. It is when compared to an idyllic and peaceful world that has never existed but in our wishful thinking minds.
We have a child carved of wood, a flesh and blood child burns off their feet is a tragedy, but carved of wood we make new feet, hah hah!
Not saying this particular incident is to be expected exactly, but events of this type are to be expected from any competent writer who has taken up the premise. Especially as it is structured as a picaresque fairy tale, it would be weird if this kind of thing didn't happen.
Also - The fairy, originally a corpse - why is a dead revenant of some sort bringing a puppet to life any weirder than a magical fairy? That's not weirder, just different than we've been told.
[1] https://liberliber.it/autori/autori-c/carlo-collodi-alias-ca...
He may have run out of ideas and tried to fill in a story with a dark mood in mind (speculation). The thing is that this is not that uncommon in many fantasy novels. Anyone remembers "The Color of Her Panties" by Piers Anthony? I read it, it is very cheesy (also silly, in particular when you as target audience are, say, 10 years old or something like that) but not necessarily mega-creepy either. But then you also begin to wonder ... is it just "good fun" to pick such a title? But then it is not the only instance and you begin to find more oddities. Naturally this depends on the author; some authors never run into such issues, others run into such issues.
I only saw the Pinocchio cartoon, that anime-style animation, on TV. That version was harmless from what I remember. Never read the books, but I am not so surprised about books being darker. Anyone knows the Grimm brothers? They lived from 1785–1863 and 1786–1859 respectively. I clearly remember that some of those drawings were really dark. It's a bit like dark horror stories if you look at it today - here is a summary:
https://discover.hubpages.com/literature/Grimms-Fairy-Tales-...
It starts with "There are some fairy tales that are just not meant for kids.".
Some of the pictures by Grimm or illustrators are quite scary, such as the bleeding or weeping out of eyes ... is gross. Possibly these were more for adults, or adults who did not care, such as Pinocchio - perhaps. A puppet that has a growing body part ... that in itself is already super-weird. Are we certain the nose was meant? Is Pinocchio ... a prison item???
When encountering cca modern western kids tales (so not grimm for example), it was shocking how over-sweetened and dumbed down they were, emshittification in Disney style, but everywhere. Shallow naive predictable stories.
It didnt make us bunch of psychos, in contrary ot felt very enriching compared to shalow monotone sanitized storytelling western kids had access to.
Oh and of course little red riding hood before they got rid of the cannibalism. And the rape.
Oh and of course the Grimm tale - “How some children played at slaughtering”. Murder, suicide, child abandonment - just… good grief. We live in a safe world today.
Two hot-take theories to add onto the pile:
1. In a traveling oral tradition, the teller doesn't want to memorize lots of different versions known in different towns or regions, and they also don't want people to get angry that your version doesn't have some key things from how they remember it. This leads to compromises that don't quite fit together.
2. If you can only store one version, you've got to decide between "fun" versus "faithfully honors the memory of our elders and how they told it", and maybe the latter wins. However with the printing press etc., now there's room to do a bit of both, and the fun version sells better.
At least in European culture, stories lost their religious part in the modernity. Probably people stopped understanding it earlier, but they were transformed in the XIX century. For example, a knight didn't serve a lady in medieval literature -- he served the god. Some story had a knight standing on his knees in lady's sleeping room, of course, having no sex, nor kisses -- not because of "romantic" self-denial, as we would think -- but just because they were praying. They were busy saving their souls before the judgement day. In the Enlightment age, people stopped understanding this, and replaced it with purely romantic motivation.
The other stories, that villagers told their kids, were probably to scare them, about the dangerous world around. The characters were motivated purely by the need to survive, and minding their own business, no high moral goal. In XIX century, with steam locomotives and boats, people could travel to unthinkable places, and many moved to cities, so you couldn't scare kids with a witch or a werewolf living in that forest beyond that lastmost house. So, storytellers invented the adventure genre. So, instead of trying to survive, characters go far away on purpose, where they need to fight to survive. Or there are some unknown human villains, who the good character has to fight.
In late XX century, this story becomes unconvincing too. Big villains and monsters are unimaginable, so stories start breaking this pattern, often demonstratively: here's a monster, ugly and huge, the little boy is scared of him, but suddenly the monster turns out nice, and loves dancing walzer or makes sweet pancakes, and they become friends. Soviet cartoons in the 80s were 100% postmodernist, whilst what I saw of the American ones, were still like 80% modernist -- the bad guys, danger, the righteous main character.
I think that children's authors primarily amuse themselves knowing that it will pass right over the heads of their target audience. It sure seems true of Collodi.
My partner did her best to help the kids in her class, and part of this included reading them stories so they at least got a glimpse of the world outside of what in my opinion was hell on earth. The stories the kids always loved most were the Grimms, the violent ones. I think they allowed them to process and in some weird way make sense of what was happening in the real world around them, if such a thing is possible in that environment. I agree, I think the environment most kids grow up in today necessitates a "sanitizing" of story content in order to make it relevant.
Could you elaborate on this?
TL;DR heavily moralistic stories are probably more relevant in a society where you're commuting to a factory at 9 or 12, vs modern society where your education continues into the mid 20s for many and the 5 or 6 year degree being more common than 4 these days.
Yes. And we gave children Disney and television or Netflix, with only violence, with, when existing, a dumbed down plot.
This is an obviously AI-generated site. There is no interest on correctness, just "engagement".
An interesting anecdote, in France Pipi Longstockings was heavily censored until the 90s because it was viewed as promoting disobedience. Naturally that made it so dull that nobody wanted to read it, so French people (at least those who were children then) generally don't know pipi. I only found out about all this when we moved to Sweden and my French partner had never heard of pipi, which I couldn't believe.
On one hand, if we want the children to grow up into the better world, and for them to keep making it better as adults, perhaps we should set up in their minds more examples of the better world, than of the worse kind of the world. Sounds somewhat reasonable?
On the other hand, there is this "shattered assumptions theory" of psychological trauma: that such traumas are caused by the reality violently shattering one of three core assumptions, one of which is "overall benevolence of the world". So it can be argued that the more you try to shield children from the unpleasantness, the more traumatized their experience will be when they inevitably meet it; vice versa, someone's who never really assumed the world is all the benevolent ("yeah, there are nice parts of it, but you have to maintain and upkeep them") can't have that assumption shattered since he never held it.
One of the main themes of Lovecraft's work is that a man is alone in a vast, uncaring universe filled with terrible, powerful, and unknown things. Which is factually true, of course, and is not really that scary of a thought — unless you're a devout Christian who had a sudden crisis of faith, got interested in astronomy, and then lived through WWI. In this case having a benevolent God who made the world for its beloved children replaced by an empty mechanistic universe where life has sprang up mostly accidentally is indeed quite a traumatic experience. Others would those "things the man weren't meant to know" quite unpleasant, sure, but being driven to madness simply because apparently the rest of the universe doesn't revolve around humanity? Yeah, we knew that already, it's not news.
Uhm, 50/50. Bear in mind Don Quixote made fun on the old farts from the Middle Ages saving "damisels" in distress. Sancho Panza was the simple, new man but far more grounded than Alonso Quijano which could be depicted as the last living "priest" because since 1492 no one gave a shit about kingdoms, local lords or whatever; everyone wanted to go to The Americas for a quick fortune (either by selling goods, or getting many more times food than in Spain).
>So, storytellers invented the adventure genre.
The adventure genre was what people liked before the mentioned Don Quixote, not by reading, but from folk tales, which are older than dirt, especially if you lived by the coast and met sailors around.
>this story becomes unconvincing too. Big villains and monsters are unimaginable,
Cosmic fears replaced big, concrete monsters (the rapist from the woods) with abstract fears under Lovecraft.
Nietzche depicted the old pre-Industrial values as obsolete. Lovecraft was scared of the new times. Cervantes just made a good laugh on both the "mythical, glorious times" but also on the "dumb, clueless future man". In the end both idealistic/realist roles learnt from each other across the adventure, which is what happens IRL in societies.
Cervantes was wiser, the laughted at the old fart seeing dangers everywhere against its outdated values, but so did on the new man with no "elevated" purposes.
I once read somewhere that after an earthquake, the children who drew pictures of the injuries and catastrophe, later showed fewer symptoms of stress and anxiety than the children who drew happy happy sunshine butterfly rainbows after the event. Seems like it's more beneficial to acknowledge the bad stuff than to encourage positive thinking.
My wtf cartoon through adult eyes is Ren and Stimpy. Serious moments of not even trying to be for kids.
In a way, retelling these stories in a way that's meaningful to the listeners is the way it always has been. We just have to remember that the darker versions also served a purpose of sense-making, and they can come to serve it again if we need them.
Good on your partner for trying to help those kids.
Pinocchio is mean, undisciplined, hedonistic, disrespectful, naive, and, of course, a liar. As soon as he is created, he runs away and behaves selfishly and impulsively.
Then he pays for each flaw with scars. The story shows him learning these lessons on his own wooden skin.
It is a moral story in the deepest sense. It shows what feels to me almost like "forbidden" knowledge. There is no magical thinking in it; it is not trying to preach "Doing bad things is bad, full stop". Instead, the author shows realistic consequences and the full messiness of being in the world. It shows exactly how naivety can result in exploitation (the Fox and the Cat stealing from him after promising him easy riches), laziness in humiliation (skipping school and ending up forced to perform for strangers; he loses his agency and is released only by Mangiafuoco's arbitrary mercy), vanity in manipulation (he is steered by praise, attention, and promises of fame), dishonesty in isolation (his lies literally disfiguring him in front of others, making him ridiculous and impossible to hide), and hedonism in literal dehumanization (Pleasure Island turning boys into donkeys).
It is quite rare for a children's book to be so honest about all the vile things in the world, and to show so directly that these things exist and that their consequences are not clean or neat either.
It also shows how we learn as humans. We do not start out good or bad and stay that way; we are not born "finished". We start as little monsters, full of impulses and feelings we cannot control or do not yet know how to interpret. Yet we learn by acting on them and seeing where they lead us. We are messy creatures, and Pinocchio makes it visible. I believe reading it made me a more robust person with a more sophisticated view of the world.
I remember hearing about "Pinnocchio soulslike" and just couldn't imagine how that'd work. Now it's one of my favourites - especially with the expansion.
So a 14 year old in the 1960 could one-hit KO a current 18yo kid from today in the spot because they had drastic hormonal and physical changes due to the hard work. OFC when they hit 30 they almost looked like 50 yo's from today.
I always laugh at some old soccer trading cards from the 80's where tons of players being at 19 look like men in their 40's. Yes, tons of them smoked like chimeneys and drank like pirates.
Pinocchio is a selfish brat and that's a central tenet of his redemption arc.
I think you should reread some collection of these that isn't disneyfied. They're great, but probably not what you want to read to a prepubescent kid because that'll start all sorts of conversations you'd rather not have them bring up at school and elsewhere.
The framing is that a king goes to hunt but has to turn back to get something and sees the queen and other women of the court have an orgy with his black slaves, so he murders them all and gets sad. So he goes away with his brother who is also a king to get over this betrayal and finds a threatening demon spirit, who has a human female companion who sings the spirit to sleep and then talks to the kings and tells them that she's taken captive. But, she survives by being unfaithful and fucking random dudes they come across and collect trinkets to remember these partners by. Then she fucks the kings and they return home.
One of the kings then starts fucking a virgin every night and kill her by the morning, until Sheherazade is chosen, who instructs her sister to intervene after the sex, rape in contemporary parlance, and ask her to tell a story. The king agrees to hear a story, and by having an unfinished or another story to tell when morning comes is how Sheherazade keeps the king from killing her.
To late or postmodern sensibilities there are a lot of things to take issue with in these stories, like the casual rape, or insults that are derogatory towards jews and blacks, like calling someone as stupid as the stairs to a synagogue.
Still, they're fantastic and hilarious, and have a lot of interesting information about life in Asia and Africa during ancient and medieval times. They also invite careful thought and deliberation. At least one swedish translation is quite suitable for reading aloud with a partner, something my wife and I had a lot of fun doing way back when we didn't yet have kids.
As for Pippi, she messes with cops and orphanages and refuses to go to school, so it's easy to see why some uptight jurisdictions would censor it. Personally I consider The Brothers Lionheart to be a better story, but its ethics are less obvious and it also starts off with a kid dying violently and another from disease so it's not immediately comedic in the way Pippi is.
Which Penguin edition is this?
He was ported to Russian too but they called him Burattino (Italian for 'puppet').
The image of burratino goes back hundreds of years before the story was ever written. He was one of the Zanni characters alongside other lower-class mischevious, comedic 'naughty' (anti-authority) characters like Harlequin.
But even if you accept that children's lives back then were particularly brutal and this was in fact meant as a children's book: there is no evidence to suggest that exposing children to brutality in books will somehow help them function in a brutal world. If anything, I would think that such children especially need something "beautiful" in their lives: the fairy who comes with good advice, the dragon slain in the end, the lost child who finds their way home. A bit of hope.
But I'm not a pedagogue, just a dad.
I've stopped relying on third-party translations because it's common for people to editorialise or miss subtleties, especially in social media... but even professional journalists.
To me there is a reason why when Japanese media invokes Judeo-Christian themes, it's with a sense of grandiosity and terror. Think all of Evangelion. Or how in a JRPG, any time there's a "pope" character, he's the bad guy (or at least the penultimate boss just before God himself).
The poster should disclose it is AI...
The U.S. was born out of Puritanism. That prudishness and absolutism continues to echo through into its modern culture. Most people don’t even realize it does.
Because there's a danger now that any writing (human or otherwise) can be labeled LLM-produced. So we need accurate heuristics, or none at all.
Well, maybe. I meant the genre like Jules Verne, Robert Stivenson.
Actually, I checked facts and found out that Daniel Defoe (I thought he lived in the same epoch), in fact lived in XVII-XVIII, much earlier.
Current generation of people in the west have been completely sheltered and protected by the establishment for all their life and have completely forgotten that isn't something natural. With every generation since WW2 this has gotten more pronounced, and at this point people unironically go onto the streets to demonstrate for counties with "less then clandestine governments". They cannot comprehend the reality of living as a powerless victim in a world which will callously destroy them- for no reason whatsoever - because they've been protected from it all their lives.
Or maybe I'm just reading your comment wrong and you meant the same, idk
[1]: https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/31374/pinocchio-by-collodi-c...
Did they prepare me better for life? Nobody can answer that without time machine. For certain they didnt instill any trauma, you need real world for that and not fantasy. Dont treat kids like some fragile porcelaine dumb beings, they grok most of real world fast, see all the bad parts and can handle it way better than overprotective parents like to admit. They often cant express their thinking effectively but they see, hear and understand most of the adult world well.
I certainly read those stories too to my kids.
And I've read gorier stories from damn Catholic journals for late aged kids in the 50's -from my parents, as they had tons of distinct books- will full depiction of beheadings from God's will in Africal trives and whatnot that would set a straight +18 sign in the cover today.
And the idea of disregarding professional translations in favor of LLMs for quality reasons is breathtakingly...something. Arrogant? Naive?
Now, look at the number of books on each language. Does it sound reasonable that a no-name startup with no contact details (except an email to an aktivlang.com domain that redirects to storica.club) will invest in a serious effort to human-translate and adapt that many books to language learners, without anyone noticing?
I'm not going to argue about the writing style because we know it is an arms race. But look at the underlying business, that business would not exist without AI generated content.
>AI-powered feedback
>Storica uses artificial intelligence (OpenAI) to provide feedback on your writing. Your written content is sent to OpenAI's API to generate corrections and suggestions. We do not use your writing content to train AI models. Your writing is processed solely to provide you with immediate feedback.
It does look LLM-generated though.
That reminds me: apparently, the Puritans have actually managed to ban the celebration of Christmas and other church feasts in the Britain during the English Interregnum (An Ordinance for Abolishing of Festivals, June 1647):
Forasmuch as the Feasts of the Nativity of Christ, Easter and Whitsuntide, and other
Festivals commonly called Holy-Dayes, have been heretofore superstitiously used and
observed Be it Ordained, by the Lords and Commons in Parliament assembled, That the
said Feast of the Nativity of Christ, Easter and Whitsuntide, and all other Festival
dayes, commonly called Holy-dayes, be no longer observed as Festivals or Holy-dayes
within this Kingdome of England and Dominion of Wales, any Law, Statute, Custome,
Constitution, or Cannon to the contrary in any wise notwithstanding
The Oddysey, Gilgamesh and basically every tribe in the Earth ever. has its own lore about some hero doing an incredible quest
In the original 1881 version, the book ended in chapter fifteen with the puppet hanging dead from an oak tree.
Carlo Collodi serialised the story in Il Giornale per i bambini, the first Italian children's magazine, beginning on July 7, 1881. The first installment was titled Storia di un burattino — Story of a Puppet. Eight episodes later, over four months, the Fox and the Cat lured Pinocchio into a forest at night, robbed him, and strung him from the branch of la Quercia grande, the Great Oak: gli legarono le mani dietro le spalle, e passatogli un nodo scorsoio intorno alla gola, lo attaccarono penzoloni al ramo di una quercia. He shut his eyes, opened his mouth, stretched his legs, gave one great convulsion, and stayed there as if frozen stiff. Fine.
Collodi was done. He had collected his fee. Italian children wrote in begging him to continue. He resumed reluctantly five months later, on February 16, 1882, with the title changed from Storia di un burattino to Le avventure di Pinocchio and a Blue Fairy — first introduced as a literal child-corpse with turquoise hair, lying in a window of a forest cottage — appearing in chapter sixteen to revive him.
The next twenty-one chapters are not gentler.
A talking cricket appears in chapter four to lecture Pinocchio about respecting his father. Pinocchio picks up a hammer from the workbench and hurls it. The cricket rimase lì stecchito e appiccicato alla parete — stuck flat to the wall, dead. He returns later as a ghost, but Collodi narrates the death with the deadpan tone of a police report.
In chapter seven, exhausted and freezing, Pinocchio falls asleep with his wooden feet propped on a brazier. He wakes up with no feet. Geppetto carves him a new pair the following morning. There is no moral framing of the loss; it is treated as an inconvenience.
When she first appears in chapter fifteen she is con i capelli turchini, e il viso bianco come un'immagine di cera, gli occhi chiusi e le mani incrociate sul petto — turquoise hair, a face white as a wax effigy, eyes closed, hands crossed on the chest. She tells the panicking Pinocchio she is dead and the bier is being prepared. Only in later installments does she become a living girl, then a fairy, then something approaching a mother.
Pinocchio runs away to il Paese dei Balocchi, the Land of Toys, where boys play games all day and never go to school. After five months they all turn into actual donkeys, sold to circuses. Pinocchio-the-donkey performs at one until he breaks his leg in an accident. The owner sells the donkey to a man who wants to make a drum out of his hide. The man ties a heavy stone to the donkey's neck and throws him into the sea to drown. Inside the dead donkey, Pinocchio reverts to wood and is then swallowed by un Pesce-cane — a dogfish, a kind of shark, which Disney would later resize into a whale.
This is, again, a children's book.
Carlo Lorenzini — Collodi was a pen name, taken from his mother's home village in Tuscany — was a satirist before he was a children's author. He fought as a volunteer in the Tuscan army during the Italian Wars of Independence in 1848 and 1860. In 1853 he founded the satirical newspaper Il Lampione, which was censored and shut down by the Grand Duke of Tuscany. A year later he launched another, Lo Scaramuccia. His early books were a parodic travel guide and a play of political ideas. He came to children's literature in his fifties because the new Italian state was paying for school readers, and a magazine commission was steady money.
He wrote Pinocchio with the deadpan irony of a man who thought most children's literature was sentimental rubbish. The donkey-skin drum is meant to land as a joke at the expense of every previous moralising children's book in Italy. The cricket is a cartoon of every adult who ever lectured a working-class boy on respect. The Land of Toys is a satire of the truancy panic Italian schoolmasters used to drum up. None of the cruelty is gratuitous, exactly. It is dramatised exhaustion with the genre.
The legacy of the book has almost nothing to do with the satire. It has to do with the language.
When Italy was politically unified in 1861, the linguist Tullio De Mauro's classic estimate is that only about 2.5% of the population spoke standard Italian — roughly 630,000 people out of twenty-five million. The rest spoke a mosaic of regional dialects mutually unintelligible enough that a Neapolitan recruit could not understand a Piedmontese officer. The new state needed a single shared language, and fast. They chose Tuscan, the literary tongue of Dante and Petrarch — but most Italians had never heard Tuscan spoken in daily life.
What got Tuscan into ordinary Italian homes was schoolbooks. Pinocchio became one of them. Collodi wrote in clean middle-register Florentine Tuscan: short sentences, common verbs, concrete nouns — pane, naso, bugia, legno, fata, volpe (bread, nose, lie, wood, fairy, fox). The book ended up on every elementary school syllabus and stayed there. Generations of Italian children learned to read in the language Collodi had already simplified for them. By 1951, when De Mauro re-counted, the proportion of Italians who could speak standard Italian had climbed from 2.5% to roughly 87%. Television finished that job. Mass schooling, with Pinocchio in it, started it.
Collodi himself never knew. He died of a stroke in October 1890, eight years after the book was completed in print, with no idea he had written one of the most translated books in human history. He had no children. The puppet he wrote reluctantly to make rent has now outlived him by a hundred and thirty-six years.
What's strange about reading the original today — not the Disney version, not even a translation, the original — is that it doesn't feel old. The Italian is plain enough that an early learner with a textbook behind them can finish a chapter in a sitting. The plot moves at television speed: thirty-six chapters of trouble before the redemption finally lands. The pictures are vivid, weird, and entirely Collodi's: a piece of wood that talks back, a fox pretending to be blind, a donkey at the bottom of the sea. You do not need a literary education to follow it. He wasn't writing for one.
Most translations soften the book. Most adaptations cut the donkey-skin drum. Most adults who think they know Pinocchio are remembering Disney. The book itself is still the book Collodi reluctantly extended past chapter fifteen because Italian children would not let it end.
I'm one of the makers of Storica, a daily reading club for the language you're learning. We adapt classics — including the unsanitised Pinocchio, donkey-skin drum and all — into A0–B2 readings of about fifteen minutes a day, in seven languages. The original Italian is on the shelf if you want it.