The Gay History of America’s Classic Children’s Books

Did the author of ‘Goodnight Moon’ like peanut gutter and banana sandwiches? Was the author of the Frog and Toad stories a clumsy skier, or did he ski at all? Was his great-grandmother on his father’s side a Jew? Do we really care? Please. Let frogs and toads be frogs and toads. Let little kids be little kids, and let their parents read these innocent tales of love and friendship with innocent eyes, without sexualizing the talking reptiles and bunnies and amphibians that appear in them. Leave the coding and signaling and quibbling and hangups over sexual orientation (or disorientation) to the grownups. Good grief. If someone is really desperate for a thesis topic, fine. Have at it. ‘The Gay Semiotics of Goodnight Moon, by Harry Hay Mattachine, M.A.’ Once printed, it can molder away in a dank corner of the library of some large midwestern university, never to be read again, at least until the next desperate grad school student comes along.

The appeal of these books has nothing to do with sexuality. Generally, the qualities that are promoted are good for everybody. I hope there haven't been too many authors with a hidden agenda. Gender diversity is fine and should not face discrimination, but this seems twisted.

Google 'Michael Strange actor' and you will find that, among other things--and she was an accomplished woman--she was married to John Barrymore for five years in the 1920s and was the mother of Diana Barrymore.

Kidlit's Secrets; Our Eyes Were Wide Shut (senryu/haiku quartet) "George and Martha the - hippos; named for characters - in Virginia Woolf"; "Leave me alone with - my imagination; I'll - get along just fine"; "Marriage: get into - scrapes on your own but get out - of them together"; "A closet is big - enough for a child; too - small for an adult"

What a delightful article. So interesting to see how some of these beloved stories reflected painful emotions and experiences the authors were going through and what a great opportunity for straight people to understand characters they love and stories they relate to represent an LGBTQ experience What a great opportunity to experience empathy for people who aren’t like you. And I am so thrilled to see my favorite childhood book mentioned I thought I was the only one in the world who read and loved “A Secret Language.” I lived in the country far from other children and the idea of boarding school with no parents and a best friend sounded so, well, exquisitely leebosa.

One of my best memories of mothering were the hours I spent reading to my children: so many books, many here. While these gentle messages of acceptance of difference/others are here I didn't ever notice an overreaching theme except that they taught treating others with compassion, understanding and curiosity [to learn from them]. These were character traits I wanted my children to develop and I care not one whit then or now that they were written by gay, straight, bi, or transitioning authors. I welcome them all. What frightens me about this well-researched article is how it might be misused. That it could help a child feel ok in their own self is ideal; that anyone could corrupt this information makes me nauseous. Our sexual identity isn't something you catch like measles. We are or we aren't any of the above. And really who cares? Our grandparents used to tell us "Mind your own business." not a bad idea for today. Bless these books and their authors. Keep them safe in libraries, and on bedside tables to be read by Mommy or Daddy teaching more children to love and care.

Our kids loved, among other books, those illustrated by Hilary Knight, including the Eloise series. Our two-dad family had the pleasure of getting to know Hilary in his later years at his magical home in East Hampton. Once, as he and I were leafing through his book, “The Circus Is Coming,” I paused at a page with an illustration of an exceedingly hunky strongman in a cage with tigers. I looked at Hilary and he put his finger on the image and said, “Yes, Bruno.” I knew I’d recognized that face and, um, body. Hairy, barrel-chested Bruno was a gay porn superstar in the 1960s and 70s. Something for the kids. Something for the grown-ups.

The point of these stories was perhaps not only to find an audience, but to maintain their authors’ sanity and provide each to himherself the comfort of self-expression.

I never looked at these books from the sexuality of the author. I loved Margaret Wise brown books long before I knew about her personal life. Runaway Bunny was always to me about love- love that will follow you everywhere.Goodnight Moon about peace and order and funny rhymes. the little girl who gets a steamroller for her birthday was exciting and gratefully all she flattened to a pancake came back- we can recover from mistakes and still be loved. Frog and Toad were about love and respect between people. I loved the characters who traveled to find understanding about themselves and love. These books were for all of us asking who am I and love.

You left out Toot and Puddle

Please can't we just read children's books for fun without delving into their author's sexuality?

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

Missing from this piece on the "Culture" - in today's times - when some 40 odd percent of voters voted for Donald Trump- describing possible gay depictions in beloved stories could end up cutting their readership among the rabidly intolerant. But hopefully I am completely wrong, because the rabidly intolerant are among the least likely to open a piece about culture in the New York Times. I was surprised to see Ernie and Bert missing from this piece, because even though Sesame Street is a TV show, there are plenty of Sesame Street books. And I wanted to mention a very, very special childhood series that embraces gentleness, kindness, and inspires kids to learn about the world is about 2 male pigs, Toot and Puddle!

Wow, this is just fascinating. I had no idea.

Frog and Toad were a couple?! I'm so happy for them! Though I still think it was kind of a jerk move when Frog let everyone laugh at Toad's bathing suit.

“Leebossa = lesbian” is a stretch. These books are lovely and many teach us how cultivate a deep friendship. Why is there a need to throw a sexual orientation into them?

Gay people are over represented in the arts. So what? Not sure what the point of this article is.

It bears mentioning that Frog and Toad are modeled on Kenneth Grahame's 1908 The Wind in the Willows, which recounts the adventures within the strictly male world of Rat, Mole, Toad, Badger, Otter, and even little Portly. This homage also likely explains the Edwardian bathing costume. Grahame's text recounts the many pleasures of homosociality, male friendship, such as "messing about in boats," epicurean delights, and even cross dressing to escape from jail. This is a sexless book on the surface, but Toad does wax orgasmically about the delights of motor cars and other "modern" modes of conveyance that are not boats on the river. And though Rat and Mole do not share a bed, they do share a room at Badger's and "shaking off their garments in some thirty seconds, [they] tumbled in between the sheets in great joy and contentment." The room and the linens, Grahame tells us, smell of lavender. There are only two women in this book, and they reside in the Wide World, where these characters are cautioned from going. Fittingly, at the center of the Wide World is the jail, where Toad briefly winds up, and is aided in his escape by the jailer's daughter, who dresses him as a washer woman. So Lobel's Frog, Toad, and the pleasures of homosociality, are descendants of Grahame's Ratty, Mole, and the outrageously funny Toad.

What a beautiful essay. I am not gay, but these themes did sometimes cross my mind when I perused some of these children stories as an adult. As a child, however, they were to me just fantastic realms with wonderful characters. I can imagine that they must have given comfort --some, at least-- to lots of gay children of the past, as well. My grandkids now love those books, just as my own children did. They are timeless, and I enjoyed reading about them in this new light. Thank you.

I'm not sure I get the point of this article. Gays are overrepresented in the arts; so what? Many children (and adults) who feel different for a myriad of reasons, not just their sexuality, take comfort in books. And I'm not sure how George and Martha, an opposite-sex, if hippopotamus couple, prove the author's thesis (whatever that may be).

I was surprised the author didn't go a little further back and unpack the Wind in the Willows.

Interesting and informative, but some of the values expressed show up earlier, in some of the great classics of the early 20th century. By the end of "The House at Pooh Corner", Pooh and Piglet are living together. In "The Wind in the Willows" Mole moves in with Rat. The deep friendship traced in both books can only be described as love, though not at all sexual.

The Mole and the Water Rat in the Wind in the Willows are an attractive couple in their bijou residence by the river.

Beautiful writing. It goes beyond the gay theme as do the much beloved books to the expérience of being a child bewildered by the world

Wonderful article! Thank you.

What an eye opening and wonderful article. Thanx for publishing.

According to this writer, any female character in children's literature that is butch is gay. So, that must mean that George in the Nancy Drew series was gay, right? I have the book, Frog and Toad are Friends. It was given to me by a nun years ago when I was in Catholic School. What I remember most about that story is how the two are friends in spite of their differences. I had no knowledge that the author was gay, nor do I care. But now that it is out, I'm afraid homophobic parents will withhold this lovely book from their children. Sometimes, it's best to keep things private. Now the authors story will overshadow the story itself. And at what cost?

It saddens me that these books are categorized in this manner.

I really enjoyed this. Thank you, Mr. Green.

An excellent article, but Green needs to give a shout-out to Kenneth Grahame, who wrote the Great-Granddaddy of all gay children's books, "The Wind in the Willows." Grahame, whom many modern scholars believe was homosexual despite his marriage, created one of the most enduring single-sex marriages, that between Rat and Mole. The cross-species couple managed to resolve their many differences to create a solid union. They are the focal point of an animal kingdom that is almost uniformly male and populated with gay elders like Badger, 24-hour party people like Toad and rough trade like the stoats and weasels. As a gay child growing up in the 1950s, before many of the authors Green cites became well known, Rat and Mole struck a deep chord within me. Without understanding why, I felt that they encapsulated something I longed for. After 26 years together with a wonderful husband, I smile when I consider how we have created our own "Dulce Domum" where Rat and Mole might feel quite at home.

What a thoughtful article! I'm in my 50s now and it's not often that I discover something new. Even rarer when it's as lebossa as this. The 1950s are often presented by our current leaders as being an idyllic time. This is a timely reminder that there were aspects of that era that were not that great.

What a wonderful article! Thank you for this thoughtful writing about the rich inner worlds of these children's books. It will be fun to catch up on some of the titles I'd missed.

Thank you for this article; I learned so much from it. I volunteer in an elementary school library and can confirm that the books and authors discussed in this piece are immensely popular with the kids. I am constantly checking them out and reshelving them. Who doesn’t long for a friendship like that between Frog and Toad?

This is a lovely article, thank you. I'm glad my kids are growing up reading (and loving) these books in a very different era regarding LGBT people than when they were written. Yet the themes you've articulated are still relevant and beautiful.

Stunningly and wonderfully wrought. Read Ursula Nordstrom's obit link and imagine a fly-on-the-wall conversation between her and the literary and artistic geniuses she managed and the angles they used to keep the works moving. Mr. Green has a keen eye and ear for details and his observations of the trials, successes, and resounding triumphs of the players give hope that the future of children's literature can be brighter than ever. However, the battle is far from over. Ghouls and attack dogs of the Dobson and Bryant strain remain at large and on the march. Their allies are well represented in legislatures in every state and especially in the US Congress. Academic freedom and the 1st Amendment alone won't be enough to make children's literature a continuing treasured resource for growing and developing children.

Beautifully written. That these wonderful authors were not, and felt they could not, be public with their authentic self answers the question of why LGBTQ rights matter. Their children's books with the odd, quirky, just a bit different (and does that not describe us all?) speak to anyone with an open heart. I hope there is a heaven and that the authors who have died can see that it has gotten better, and that current authors gratefully follow their path toward openness.

Oh, this is just silly. These books are about friendship and love between two nonsexual characters, big or small, straight or gay, cheerful or grumpy. Please, let us not imbue them with our adult obsession with gender and sexuality.

Wait, the monsters in Where the Wild Things Are stand in for the mother? I always thought they were -- insofar as they stand for anything -- the child's own out-of-control feelings. In general, I've always had the impression that Sendak's books appeal more to adults than to children. None of mine ever really warmed to his work, except for the delightful Little Bear illustrations.

I can't help feeling these guys (the author and his co-parent partner) could find coming-of-age gay allegories in just about ANY children's book. OK, some of the stories can be read the way they suggest (and maybe the Alice books reflect Lewis Carroll's supposed asexuality) but the feeling of otherness and not-belonging that children experience, and the blessing of being rescued from it by compassionate peers or elders, are universal, and not necessarily exclusively a matter of sexual orientation and awakening.

It would be good to include a discussion of Howard Ashman. Yes, I know: He didn't write books but movie songs--the songs for "Little Mermaid" and "Beauty and the Beast," for example. Those works were so important for gay kids in the nineties. Ashman had a fair amount in common with Arnold Lobel, et al.

What a brilliantly insightful and absolutely entertaining read this essay is! How is it possible that I am new to Mr. Green's delightful style, wit and critical deftness? Well, better late than never--I'm now going to need to turn to his other work, with haste! I am absolutely persuaded by his thesis. All these books I devoured as a youth (read by myself to myself, having had parents with no interest whatsoever in books--which is why, no doubt, I was such a voracious reader), and I was unaware of the subterranean codes and veiled, even secret messages that spoke to me subconsciously, but so fluently. Thank you so much for your exegesis, Mr. Green. I know this literature isn't scriptural or biblical, but for those of us who as children were under its spell, it was just as powerful. You really brought this to light for me today. Thank you.

wonderful, moving article-- many thanks.

One of my best memories of mothering were the hours I spent reading to my children: so many books, many here. While these gentle messages of acceptance of difference/others are here I didn't ever notice an overreaching theme except that they taught treating others with compassion, understanding and curiosity [to learn from them]. These were character traits I wanted my children to develop and I care not one whit then or now that they were written by gay, straight, bi, or transitioning authors. I welcome them all. What frightens me about this well-researched article is how it might be misused. That it could help a child feel ok in their own self is ideal; that anyone could corrupt this information makes me nauseous. Our sexual identity isn't something you catch like measles. We are or we aren't any of the above. And really who cares? Our grandparents used to tell us "Mind your own business." not a bad idea for today. Bless these books and their authors, keep them safe in libraries, and on bedside tables.

So if all this great children's lit was produced as metaphors for having to remain in the closet, for having to hide one's true identity, then will we see the demise of great children's lit now that it's OK, or even welcomed, to be openly gay? Or is the author reading WAAAAY too much into this? By the way, I loved ALL of these books when I read them to my kids (in the early 90s) and I only thought they were about friendships, and being nice, and being creative, and doing things "outside the box" (I *wanted* my kids to think and do "outside the box").

Thank you for this wonderful essay, smart and real and beautifully written! I know this territory fairly well--I even wrote an essay about the Frog and Toad books for Christopher Street magazine back in 1981--but I learned a lot here. I knew nothing about Ursula Nordstrom, an unsung hero. But it's amazing how matter-of-fact these authors could be while writing for children. James Marshall wrote a book titled "Fox and His Friends"--just like the Fassbinder movie, only it really is about a fox and his animal friends. Arnold Lobel wrote an early book titled "Lucille" where the equine non-gender-conforming protagonist finally rebels and declares, "I am not a lady! I am a horse!"

Captivating. Thanks for this brief history. Hoping that it's the germ of a book?

Worth a mention here is the brilliant "Speedboat" about "best friends" Jasper and Tweedy Jones by James Marshall. They seemed very much a couple to me and to my children who asked for me to read it night after night.

Thanks for the in-depth tour of these groundbreaking books. When I encountered a few of them in the past, I thought I was just projecting my sexuality onto these stories, but the literary thread described is definitely more than coincidence or wishful thinking. As an aside, thanks also for the link to the NY Times obituary for Arnold Lobel, a stark reminder of how so many obits in the early days of AIDS were written to mask any trace of gay life behind a set of normalized facts. At least we've progressed a bit on that front, too.

What a fantastic and revealing article. I love going back and looking at the messaging that children's media unconsciously instilled into my childhood mind. And as a now-grown gay man this piece is just another wonderful addition to my knowledge. Thank you for sharing, Jesse!

I would make a case for including L. Frank Baum. Baum wrote the first transgender children’s novel, The Marvelous Land of Oz, (1904) the second in Oz series, where a boy successfully transitions into a girl, and holds power through the rest of the Oz books as the rightful leader of Oz. Baum also wrote a non-gender-specific hero in his 1906 novel, John Dough and the Cherub. The Oz books continue to have a large gay following, as evidenced to in the membership of the International Wizard of Oz Club.

Oh, bless your heart, honey, this is the sort of thing that adults go on and on and on about intellectually that doesn't matter 2 cents to kids. Don't get me wrong, this is all interesting. But it's not what these books are about for the children for whom they were written. Sendak himself said it in a marvelous interview (Getting to Know Maurice Sendak) "A child isn't polite....a child doesn't care if a book has won 18 Caldecott medals.... Not every book is right for every child." These books have survived because they speak to children regardless of race, religion or gender. Regardless of their family's "lifestyle."

I don't think the author is really on the mark here. I think it's interesting that all these brilliant children's authors were gay; I don't think they were secretly coding to a gay audience, or educating straight parents how to raise (LGBT?) children (with their gay wisdom?)-- that's quite a stretch and wouldn't explain their vast success in all corners of the market. I would say that these authors were keenly attuned to human nature in a way that transcended sexuality. Lobel's Frog and Toad touched issues of loneliness and friendship felt not only by closeted gays, but also children (of all orientations); Sendak appealed to the rebelliousness, defiance, and independence felt by all children. And it is nice to find out these authors became proudly game, and unfortunate they had to conceal it during a less progressive time. The narrative that they were craftily subversive seems false.

Thank you, Mr. Green, for revealing another dimension of beauty to these books that brought and continue to bring joy to so many of us! It is a relief and an inspiration to be reminded of how the individual voice finds a way to break through, to comfort, and ultimately, to show us how we are all connected and responsible to one another.

Great children's authors tap into the basic issues of humanity: our needs for love and connection, the inherent battles we are doomed to fight with parents or other authorities to become ourselves, and establish separate lives. I never thought a lot about a gay code; it felt like such authors had cracked a code revealing the sad, puzzling or infuriating aspects of children's lives, allowing them to identify with characters under the radar of their parents and teachers. Terrific respite - and fun when well written - for any child who feels rejected, dejected and powerless, yet possessed of a lively imagination. Thanks for introducing me to Ursula Nordstrom's head set - "Good books for bad children!" - in developing "her" writers. I did cringe at the "sheltering mother" image because it was, and still is, a stereotype used is classify 'difficult' or " demanding " women as socially acceptable. SO maybe the power from some of these works does come from the degree of alienation felt by their writers, because of their status as outsiders, with astute observations of the world. and extraordinary talent.