PIPPI POWER

ASTRID LINDGREN'S PIPPI LONGSTOCKING REVOLUTIONIZED CHILDREN'S LITERATURE - AND THE IMAGE OF WOMEN.

She has been an inspiration and, to the chagrin of many parents and educators, a role model. She has been admired for her strength, her independence, and she has enchanted children and adults alike for over seventy years: Pippilotta Delicatessa Windowshade Mackrelmint Ephraims Daughter Longstocking. “Tell me about Pippi Longstocking,” pleaded seven-year-old Karin, confined to bed in 1941 with pneumonia. “She made up the name on the spur of the moment,” her mother mused, years later. So Astrid Lindgren began to tell the story.

Readers have an accident to thank for the fact that, some years later, the story of Pippi, the “remarkable child,” was committed to paper. Astrid Lindgren, who during the war worked for the Swedish mail censorship authority, slipped on an icy footpath and sprained her ankle. Unable to walk, she used the opportunity to write down Pippi’s adventures as a present for Karin on her tenth birthday.

It had never been Astrid’s intention to become an author, but having written the little book, she offered the manuscript to the Swedish publishing house Bonnier, hoping that “they wouldn’t report me to the child welfare officer.” This wish was granted, but a request to print the book was not. That was a decision they would soon regret.

A year later the manuscript was snapped up by children’s book publishers Rabén & Sjögren of Stockholm. The first edition published in 1945 quickly sold out. This did not stop a Stockholm professor of education from condemning Pippi’s adventures as “futile” and “tasteless.” Acts such as walking barefoot on sugar and eating a whole cake were reminiscent of “the imaginings of a lunatic or some morbid obsession.” His verdict left children unmoved.

In four years, 300,000 copies were sold in Sweden alone. The first German edition of “Pippi Langstrumpf” was published by Oetinger in 1949 and was also greeted by many a wagging finger. The book lacked “healthy children’s humor,” proclaimed a library committee in Basel, Switzerland. “The basic idea underlying the book is too original and is repellent. As a result of all these inadequacies we decidedly reject this famous Pippi book.”

Astrid Lindgren was familiar with the tendency of professional educators to be overwhelmed by Pippi’s anarchic persona. It was only after the original manuscript had been heavily revised that the book was published in the first place. Chamber pots were deleted from the story, and the wild goings-on with “bad Benno” and his comrades were toned down. Each new translation met with new prejudice and raised new concerns. In China there were problems because Pippi was too cheeky to a policeman. Her horse was too big for the French, and was reduced to a pony. Lindgren sardonically asked her French publisher to send her a photo of a French child lifting up a pony in preference to a horse.

Pippi, however, triumphed over all adversities. The book has now been translated into more than sixty languages and has sold millions of copies worldwide. In Afrikaans she is “Pippie Lankous,” in Brazil “Pippi Meialonga,” and in Kurdistan she is “Pippi Ya-Goredirey.” Search the online bookstores for “Pippi Longstocking,” and you’ll find almost 1,400 titles. Besides the works of Astrid Lindgren, there are management manuals, self-discovery guides and emancipation literature. Pippi Longstocking stands for creativity and drive, spontaneity, courage and skepticism.

Pippi benefits the world—and benefits women. Take Benja Stig Fagerland, Danish, 40, a former model and mother of three. Today she is a corporate consultant in Norway. The country leads the world in equal opportunities, and Benja Fagerland was one of the driving forces. Ask her how she managed to push through the “womens quota,” and she replies, “Pippi Power!”—don’t be afraid to dare to do anything. “Power isn’t given to you,” she says, “you have to take it.” Astrid Lindgren also uses the word power to characterize Pippi: “Pippi Longstocking is a little powerhouse, but she never abuses her power. She only resorts to it when she is compelled to intervene. Otherwise she is the most good-natured, most helpful, nicest little girl you could imagine. And as far as I can tell, having power and not abusing it is the hardest thing there is.”

Text: Paul Lampe, Collage: Eddi Kraft
Bilfinger Berger Magazine 2/2011