The Teacup Whale

I came across this story in an old, coverless edition on the bookshelf. I understand that It has been featured in several collections, most notably Tales for Little Rebels. That being said, the short story itself is so...precious that one balks at looking deeper into it (even though it is the irresistible next step). It is about a boy who finds a whale in a puddle and who, upon noticing he is a whale, immediately takes him home and puts him first into a teacup of water, then other receptacles of varying size as the handsome little black fellow grows bigger and bigger and stronger and stronger .  Now I've done some wiki reading on Lydia Gibson, and I understand that she was quite the leftist [although I'm sure she would have reconsidered supporting the soviet communist party had she known where it would end up. Or perhaps she was simply not as well-informed as one would like to believe(?)]. She seemed more to be an appendage of that time of upheaval, rather than an actual revolutionary. That being said, her story echoes in a number of directions, some possibly unintended. For me, her little contended captive recalls several dispossessed peoples who she [possibly] wished would grow more solute, and achieve some liberation-just as the whale, having grown bigger and stronger-big enough to swim out-did. Juan tells me that I am looking too deep this puddle, but it has been my experience that often, creative persons when asked about the meaning of a piece, will say only that which is palateable, give an ill-defined shadow of its true meaning while hoping to reach those they hope to reach. Perhaps she did hold this opinion, and decided to be silent, racial tolerance being what it was in those days. This is especially considering the attitude of the boy's mother in the story. She denies the whale's whaleness (hahaha!!) untill the end of the story when he breaks that chain! Or maybe I am confusing shadows on the cave wall with reality (?). Needless to say, while it could be interpreted in this way, the story is not outrightly political, and is such fanciful nonsense and is so pleasantly written that I would recommend it as a read.









---Mono