AFRAID OF THE LIGHT

In the first sentence, readers learn that “there once was a chap called Ditter von Dapp / who lived deep inside of a cave.” The second sentence explains that “he couldn’t stand sunlight—‘It’s too blinding and bright!’— / so always he stayed in the shade.” The rest of the lesson expands on this central conceit: The monocled, tuxedoed white rabbit frets that the light “could blind me, unwind me, it could drive me insane! / Or illuminate things I don’t like.” The blue-toned spreads show all the predicaments his phobia lands him in. When a Buddhist-monk mouse runs away with his left shoe, Ditter von Dapp must face the fact that “looking is tough. / When you’re looking in darkness—all you see is dark stuff.” So he capitulates, illuminates his home, and discovers that good lighting, shown in color-filled illustrations, is an aesthetic delight. As a metaphor, this is overwrought for adults and impenetrable for kids, and the attempt at rollicking rhyme is consistently uneven and strained; many lines incorporate ridiculous expostulations for the sake of rhyme and meter. For some reason the saffron-robed mouse “had not taken his shoe simply for play” but rather “to show Von Dapp the way.” She even holds her hands in a little namaste to end the lesson. Ultimately Ditter’s such a lackluster hero that the question of why overwhelms the story.