JOIN USThe Andersen assignment
“Holiday homework!” exclaimed Arun in disgust. “Mrs Mehta seems to have missed the oxymoron in that phrase.”
“Oxy-what?” asked Arun’s younger brother, Anil.
“An oxymoron is a figure of speech in which opposites combine,” said Arun. “Holiday and homework contradict each other, since — in my view at least — a vacation should be marked by enjoyment not exertion.”
“Wherever do you pick up these literary tidbits, Arun?” asked Anil admiringly.
“In Mrs Mehta’s classes,” admitted Arun. “She is an excellent English teacher.”
“In that case,” said Anil, “don’t you think any assignment she sets will prove challenging? What are you supposed to do anyway?”
Arun explained: “On the 2nd of April (a date observed as International Children’s Book Day) Mrs Mehta told us about Hans Christian Andersen. It was his 206th birth anniversary, and Ma’am discussed...”
“‘The Ugly Duckling’!” said Anil excitedly. “Or was it ‘Thumbelina’?”
Arun smiled at his brother’s enthusiasm. “Both of them, and other tales besides,” he said, “also the lesser-known ‘Red Shoes’ — a grim narrative.” “Well, some of the popular fairytales have their serious side too,” pointed out Anil. “The Mermaid suffers, the Match Girl perishes and...”
“Anil, you’ve given me a great idea!” interrupted Arun. “Mrs Mehta has allotted various tasks to us according to — what she calls — our ‘individual abilities’. All of them are based on the famous Danish author, and I have to produce a poem. What if I write about the hapless beings one comes across in his works? Wouldn’t that be an interesting Andersen Assignment?”
“Now that is an oxy...., oxy... whatever the word is,” said Anil. “Andersen and assignment just don’t go together. Anything to do with Andersen is an adventure!”
Here is Arun’s poem, composed with inputs from Anil. You will find it more entertaining if you are familiar with the stories in which the characters featured here appear.
Andersen Land
On a fine evening I happened to meet
A girl in red shoes who danced down the street;
She danced to the left; she danced to the right,
‘Stop me,’ she begged, ‘or I’ll dance through the night.’
‘Who are you?’ I cried, ‘I don’t understand...’
‘I’m Karen’, she said, ‘of Andersen Land.’
Dancing, she went on, ‘There once was a Dane
Who told a tale of a girl who was vain,
And came to grief through her bright new footwear
That wouldn’t come off, much to her despair:
A pleasure to read but not so much fun
To be in my shoes, please pardon the pun!
You needn’t look far if you wish to see
Others who make up our strange family:
There’s Thumbelina, the Mole’s in pursuit.
That’s the sad Mermaid, a beautiful mute;
She shed her fish-tail by making the choice
Of gaining legs at the cost of her voice;
The Emperor struts, clad just in his skin;
Beside him the Duckling, cast out by its kin.
Tin Soldier, steadfast, not keen to retire
Must, like the Fir Tree, go into the fire;
The Match Girl shivers, she hasn’t a chance;
She’s destined to freeze as I am to dance.
Don’t miss the Wild Swans, they’re actually men.
We’re all of us victims of Andersen’s pen!’