William Penn Life, 2017 (52. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)

2017-03-01 / 3. szám

Tibor's Take with Tibor Check, Jr.

Truly golden books

(This month's Take is dedicated to nearly one-year-old László Ganchuk and his proud mom, Judit. It was during a recent conversation with Judit that I recalled another fond memory of my childhood, planting the seed from which this Take sprouted.)

BEFORE I WAS POTTY-TRAINED, the ability to read was already on my list of acquired skills. Books and every sort of reading material could be found in just about every corner of my early childhood home in Euclid, Ohio. My parents and grandparents were always eager to read a picture book to me. As they read, I imagined myself a future fireman, police officer, soldier, train engineer, postal worker, and countless other things. Books were the catalyst that helped me envision both far away places and great adventures that were just around the corner.

As a little boy, I read every book I could about trains, and if the stories were about big steam engines, so much the better. I also liked stories about boats, cars, planes and tractors. (Perhaps this is why I continue to subscribe to many publications about machines.) My early literary friends all had personalities and were lovable characters that I could relate to, and they became my heroes in a wide world of reading.

Little Golden Books were my favorites. I was particularly fond of Scujfy the Tugboat, Tootle and The Little Red Caboose. I recall going to garage sales in the summer with my mom who'd tell me to see if there were any books to my liking, and I often times found Little Golden Books. During my tender years, my family must have owned literally hundreds of these books in varying conditions: some were like new while others had been abused (or perhaps, improved?) by me or my siblings with crayons, pens or pencils. If a book was thrown away due to some extraordinary circumstance, my parents didn't seem to get upset. Most of all, I loved those books for another reason: they were always illustrated in a vast array of vivid colors.

Thanks to László Ganchuk and his anya Judit, my interest in Little Golden Books has been rekindled. I learned

that many of the most beloved Little Golden Books were illustrated by an American-Hungarian artist named Tibor Gergely. In the world of picture books, I think it is the work of the illustrator that often makes a book a popular classic spanning generations.

Tibor Gergely was born in Budapest in 1900. His father died when Gergely was young, leaving his mother with the task of working and raising the family. Gergely always doodled and carried a sketchpad wherever he traveled, leading some of his teachers to think he was destined to become an engineer.

As a teenager, Gergely became a member of the "Sunday Circle" comprised of prominent artists, writers and musicians who gathered at various pastry and coffee houses in the Hungarian capital. Gergely was much younger than the core group, but was accepted because he would regularly draw caricatures of the members and their guests. It was through the Circle that he met a renowned artist and patron of the arts, Anna Lesznai. Lesznai came from an affluent family and supported Gergely in his many artistic endeavors. Although Lesznai was 15 years older than Gergely, the two began a relationship which eventually blossomed into a marriage that lasted until her death in 1966.

The Sunday Circle moved to Vienna in 1921 as the newly-formed post-Trianon government made life for the artists quite unpleasant. While in Vienna, Gergely received his only formal artistic training, which lasted just one semester. Nevertheless, his talents were featured in the work of various magazines, theater groups and puppet designers. After 10 years in Vienna, Lesznai and Gergely returned to Hungary where they split their time between Budapest and her spacious country estate. There, Lesznai introduced Gergely to creating realistic artwork of the countryside which oftentimes featured nearby peasants while they worked, prayed and celebrated life. Like many other Hungarians, the couple emigrated to New York City in 1939 as the threat of Nazi persecution became apparent. They never returned to their homeland.

Upon arrival in America, Gergely was hired as an

Point to Ponder....

So far, I have rediscovered 72 Little Golden Books, of which 15 were illustrated by Tibor Gergely. Two other internationallyacclaimed Hungarian authors and illustrators immigrated to the U.S. around the same time as Gergely: Kate Seredy and Willy Pogány. Most of their original artwork, like Gergely’s, was destroyed or archived. The destruction of these types of production art pieces was a common practice in the publishing industry. It was not done out of spite or scorn, but was a practice akin to a mother discarding her child’s old baseball cards she finds stored in a shoebox in the attic.

Do you have original artwork created by any of the three artists mentioned above? If so, I would love to hear how you acquired them. - Tibor

6 0 March 2017 0 WILLIAM PENN LIFE