Can You Believe Peter Rabbit Was Banned?

Sad But True

As early as 1985, London schools banned The Tale of Peter Rabbit. The 1902 classic stood accused of showing only “middle-class rabbits” with “too much privilege.”

Really? Old Mrs. Rabbit, a widow, scrapes together the money for brown bread and current buns by selling tea, herbs and hand-knit mittens at an outdoor table. Her daughters pick the blackberries for dinner from bushes outside their sand bank. Thrift is practically Mama Rabbit’s middle name; she’s quite upset when Peter loses a second set of clothes and shoes within two weeks. If you don’t have a copy of the book on hand, enjoy this adaptation, which stays very close to the original.

The 1985 ban was just the beginning. Inventive reasons for removing the book from library shelves have come and gone; here are a few of the more gruesome ones:

In 2006, one Stuart Jeffries objected to the “the idea that Potter's world is in any way comforting.” He cast her as sadistic, characterizing the story as Peter Rabbit’s “headlong flight” from Mr. McGregor’s garden and a “post-traumatic convalescence featuring regular doses of chamomile tea.” Jeffries accuses Potter of beginning “with the horrifying image of  [Peter’s] father’s death.” As if we’d seen Papa Rabbit shot or guillotined. That’s not what happens. Peter’s mother, warning Peter not to go into Mr. McGregor’s garden, explains, “Your father had an accident there. He was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor.” His mother’s words spur the disobedient Peter to explore the garden, where he almost ends up like his dad. But with the encouragement of “friendly sparrows” he wriggles loose from a net and manages to escape.  

By 2021, Peter Rabbit stood accused of being a “cynical violent ‘Mad Max’ for Kids.” I kid you not. The wild notions of one Blake Harper make me shudder to think what he’d do with that far more citified, wisecracking bunny (namely “Bugs”). But here’s what he claims about Peter Rabbit: the book “has a sort of zany nihilism that people seem to forget on account of the nice illustrations and the general cultural amnesia on plot points. The titular bunny doesn’t just have a fraught relationship with Mr. McGregor, the old cranky farmer. The antagonists are engaged in a battle of wits with life itself at stake. There’s a reason Peter’s mom warns him early on that he and his sisters better not steal food from McGregor’s garden. McGregor is a full-on sociopath who, in a Marxist reading, would be described as being engaged in the suppression of the disenfranchised. In a non-Marxist reading, he might best be described as a very bad dude.”

No, just a guy trying to keep body and soul together, like his rabbit neighbors.

Mr. McGregor “suppressing the disenfranchised?” The old Scottish farmer would be spinning in his grave. It is, after all, his garden the rabbit invades, and I’m not surprised  he yells, “Stop thief!” even though of course we’re all on Peter’s side. Surely Mr. McGregor can spare a few carrots and lettuces consumed by the diminutive rabbit.

By May, 2023, the Woke began to infest the world of Beatrix Potter, accusing her of “cultural appropriation.” Dr. Emily Zobel Marshall, a lecturer in postcolonial literature at Leeds Beckett University, criticized Beatrix Potter for failing to “publicly declare” that she drew on African folktales for her work. Beatrix Potter, Dr. Marshall claims, borrows from Joel Chandler Harris’s Brer Rabbit.

In the sense that both sets of stories involve talking animals?

Even if Beatrix Potter knew the Brer Rabbit tales—which hadn’t been published during her childhood, but which Dr. Marshall thinks she must have known from her parents’ involvement in the cotton industry—there’s no obvious connection. Similarity doesn’t prove influence.

But let’s suppose the unlikely: that Potter knew Brer Rabbit and felt inspired. Let’s suppose she got the idea of talking animals from Joel Chandler Harris and decided to write her own. That’s what artists do. The whole idea of “cultural appropriation” is just a cynic’s view of inspiration. Although I’m anything but religious, I prefer the original meaning of the term: from the Latin, “inspirare,” to breathe into, it conveys a divine or godlike taking in of something. Of course inspiration feels like that—suddenly you’ve got a great idea! Where did it come from! Feels like it came from God, ‘cause how would I come up with that?

The Beatrix Potter tales, the lovely watercolored illustrations, the small size of the books—a child can turn the pages herself—are all delights. Make sure your child enjoys them. The delights of Jemima Puddleduck, of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle, of Squirrel Nutkin, are not to be missed.