01 October 2005
The 3 Policemen: Or Young Bottsford of Farbe Island
written and illustrated by
William Pene du Bois
1938, new illustrations 1960
The Viking Press, 100 pages
Having been enchanted with The Twenty-One Balloons, and having accidentally discovered The Magic Finger, I searched out other books by du Bois in my local library. While the story of The 3 Policemen stuck me as rather dull even in those pre-adolescent days I was still able to appreciate du Bois' idea of inventing an island, with a perfect economy, no crime and people with little else to do but enjoy life.
Farbe Island (according to du Bois) was founded by fisherfolk who stumbled upon an uncharted paradise. Perfect fishing and abundant flora and fauna, it appeared to have been built and abandoned as a small Caribbean resort just waiting for new tenants. The people fish and live in such harmony that the three policemen who protect and defend the island have little else to do besides pay dominoes all day and design new uniforms. That they look identical is mere coincidence: after several generations all the islands inhabitants have probably come to resemble their common ancestors.
The policemen are aided by young Bottsford, a child of circus aerialists who left him behind after landing on the island by accident themselves. Why and how they left -- and more importantly, why they left young Bottsford behind -- is not discussed. Bottsford polishes the buttons and shoes of the policemen, tends to their bicycles, and manages to dispense the logic and strategy the policemen can't seem to find on their own.
When the island is menaced by a sea monster that takes the fisherfolk's nets the inept policemen -- who have never previously been called on to do anything before -- set out to solve the mystery. Bottsford does all the heavy lifting in the planning department and the policemen get the credit when they discover that the island's mayor has brought the mechanical sea serpent home from abroad as a gift to help his people relax. No it doesn't really make much sense. Such is the nature of whimsy.
The hook for me -- when I was a boy and even now -- was the cross section drawing of the sea serpent. A giant mattress-slide down it's back leads to a pool. Observation decks appear to be place not just above the water but beneath the waterline as well. An indoor gym and a well-stocked meat locker hint at the luxury of a hotel, the kind of a place where your every whim is catered to. But then, the whole idea of a perfect island paradise was enough to make me pull out paper and a pencil and begin sketching. I'm sure my version of a sea serpent ship was much better as it contained things I felt missing from du Bois' plan. A go-cart race track would have made a nice improvement, as would a library full of beanbag chairs and free soda machines.
While unremarkable in story an execution -- actually, a bit tedious at spots -- it does feed into the fantasy that exists even in adults to invent a perfect hideaway. I have no less than three of these in my adult head at any given point, and the added bonus of their being on an island would just be icing on the cake. More remarkable to me is that this book still manages to keep its place on the library shelves. Clearly there must be something in this nearly 70 year old book that keeps kids pulling it off the shelves, it can't all be about "the guy who wrote The Twenty-One Balloons..."
Or maybe it's just oldsters like me who keep trolling for a glimpse into our pasts.
William Pene du Bois
1938, new illustrations 1960
The Viking Press, 100 pages
Having been enchanted with The Twenty-One Balloons, and having accidentally discovered The Magic Finger, I searched out other books by du Bois in my local library. While the story of The 3 Policemen stuck me as rather dull even in those pre-adolescent days I was still able to appreciate du Bois' idea of inventing an island, with a perfect economy, no crime and people with little else to do but enjoy life.
Farbe Island (according to du Bois) was founded by fisherfolk who stumbled upon an uncharted paradise. Perfect fishing and abundant flora and fauna, it appeared to have been built and abandoned as a small Caribbean resort just waiting for new tenants. The people fish and live in such harmony that the three policemen who protect and defend the island have little else to do besides pay dominoes all day and design new uniforms. That they look identical is mere coincidence: after several generations all the islands inhabitants have probably come to resemble their common ancestors.
The policemen are aided by young Bottsford, a child of circus aerialists who left him behind after landing on the island by accident themselves. Why and how they left -- and more importantly, why they left young Bottsford behind -- is not discussed. Bottsford polishes the buttons and shoes of the policemen, tends to their bicycles, and manages to dispense the logic and strategy the policemen can't seem to find on their own.
When the island is menaced by a sea monster that takes the fisherfolk's nets the inept policemen -- who have never previously been called on to do anything before -- set out to solve the mystery. Bottsford does all the heavy lifting in the planning department and the policemen get the credit when they discover that the island's mayor has brought the mechanical sea serpent home from abroad as a gift to help his people relax. No it doesn't really make much sense. Such is the nature of whimsy.
The hook for me -- when I was a boy and even now -- was the cross section drawing of the sea serpent. A giant mattress-slide down it's back leads to a pool. Observation decks appear to be place not just above the water but beneath the waterline as well. An indoor gym and a well-stocked meat locker hint at the luxury of a hotel, the kind of a place where your every whim is catered to. But then, the whole idea of a perfect island paradise was enough to make me pull out paper and a pencil and begin sketching. I'm sure my version of a sea serpent ship was much better as it contained things I felt missing from du Bois' plan. A go-cart race track would have made a nice improvement, as would a library full of beanbag chairs and free soda machines.
While unremarkable in story an execution -- actually, a bit tedious at spots -- it does feed into the fantasy that exists even in adults to invent a perfect hideaway. I have no less than three of these in my adult head at any given point, and the added bonus of their being on an island would just be icing on the cake. More remarkable to me is that this book still manages to keep its place on the library shelves. Clearly there must be something in this nearly 70 year old book that keeps kids pulling it off the shelves, it can't all be about "the guy who wrote The Twenty-One Balloons..."
Or maybe it's just oldsters like me who keep trolling for a glimpse into our pasts.
