Since I recently watched videos of several of the stories in the Harold and the Purple Crayon series (and learned there was more than one story), I decided to go back and reread the books, in order, starting with the only one I’d known before now (Harold and the Purple Crayon).
I checked the 60th anniversary edition out of the library. This was a lucky accident: I just wanted the book, but this version came with a CD of a professional narrator reading the story. In fact, there are two versions of the narration: one with chimes to let kids know when to turn the page, and one with just the voice (and an energetic little musical track accompanying it). Both would be appealing to “readers” who are too young to actually read the book itself on their own, and could even help them cross the bridge to actually reading.
However, neither of the audio tracks really holds a candle to the book itself, and for me, that original hardcopy book is superior to the animated version. The first reason for this is that the book is a physical object, and the second is found on the title page. Vivid purple scribbles zig, zag, and loop across that title page, making it look like some small hand has gone wild there. Since just about every kid who has books did this at some point, this is a genius moment of self-recognition before the story even starts. There’s also the control a book gives a child: he or she can flip back and forth between the title page and the following credits page, comparing the scribbles and tracing how /if they connect. They can trace the purple crayon’s path with a finger, or even put paper over the book and trace it with a crayon of their own.
Having this story as a physical book also underlines the design genius author Crockett Johnson brought to the story. Before Johnson tells a single word of the story, he fills the entire left page with purple scribbles. Those stand as counterpoint to the opening line: “One evening, after thinking it over for a long time…” This introduces a fairly subtle irony to the book, especially for a kid’s story: Harold hasn’t been thinking, he’s been scribbling.
Reading the story in physical form accents the vertical design elements. By page 3 (well, 3 ish: the pages aren’t numbered), Harold is on his tiptoes, straining to draw a crescent moon. Beyond that moon, the entire upper page is empty, blank and white. Flipping from page to page creates both progress (via Harold’s drawing) and continuity, with that same blank page and purple crescent moon.
The story itself, of course, is its classic, wonderful self. The numberless pages fit with both the story of exploration and the fact that Harold is such a little kid. The story is pure, even anarchic. When Harold backs away from the terrifying dragon he himself drew into existence, he tumbles into an ocean and over his head, a real risk for toddlers. When he’s hungry, he uses that magical crayon to draw himself a picnic, but not a respectable, healthy picnic: he fills the tablecloth with nine pies, of the kind he loves most.
The drawings are simple, but their design is always wonderful: Johnson pares existence down to its outlines. Like many classic stories, this is a tale in which the hero (young Harold) leaves home, goes out into the world for an adventure, and then comes home. Being as young as he is, that home means Harold ends up in bed.
The book’s final lines involve quiet word play: Harold “drew up” the covers on his bed and his pen, and the crayon dropped onto the floor as he dropped off to sleep.
This book can be read for pure fun, and I recommend it. It can also be read for educational purposes: Harold creates problems for himself, and kids can see that. He also solves those problems. This is confident, autonomous, kid. The drawings are stripped down to essentials, and can be used to guide readers to recognize these shapes in the larger world. The way Harold’s path vanishes into the horizon can be used to teach perspective, and so on.
It can also be used to teach more ambitiously. The Center for Philosophy for Children (https://www.philosophyforchildren.org/questionslibrary/harold-and-the-purple-crayon/) and the Prindle Institute for Ethics (https://www.prindleinstitute.org/books/harold-and-the-purple-crayon/ ) both provide materials to help you use the interplay of realities in the book to teach kids philosophy.
Me, I’d be more likely to just enjoy it, and then provide some context for those who are interested. For example, Crockett Johnson was a comic strip artist before he created kids books. For more, see this Mental Floss article (https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/647626/harold-and-purple-crayon-book-facts ).
Finally, I like to connect books, so besides just reading the other books in the series, kids might enjoy learning that the Crockett Johnson was a friend and teacher to the great Maurice Sendak.
