Sometimes I just can’t stand it anymore, tracking the slow murder of our civilization by its leaders and sages.
It’s times like that when a book like Freddy the Pilot, by Walter R. Brooks, really comes in handy.
In this outing, Freddy the pig–poet, detective, banker, newspaper editor, football star, traveler, magician–learns how to fly an airplane. In fact, he learns it just in time to use this new skill to save Boomschmitt’s traveling circus from the evil Watson P. Condiment, whose unrequited passion for the circus’s star performer has moved him to hire a plane to buzz and bomb the circus’s performances.
Yes, the whole thing’s totally daft. That’s the beauty of it. Freddy books are billed as children’s literature, but I’ve found they work even better for adults. Brooks’ humor operates on many age levels.
If you’re too old for Freddy the pig, see your doctor. You may be dead.
4 comments on “‘Freddy the Pilot’”
Zounds! good to me! Will hunt them up. D. R.
I guarantee you’re gonna love ’em, Dorothy. My only problem with “Freddy the Pilot” is that Mr. and Mrs. Webb, the happily-married and resourceful spiders, and my favorite supporting characters, aren’t in this story. Oh, well, you can’t have everything.
My dad read ‘Freddy Goes to Florida’ to us years ago, and we really enjoyed it. I have no idea where that book went …
Oh, that was the first Freddy book I ever read, back when I was seven or eight years old–and I never forgot it, either. Recently I got another copy as a Christmas present, and I was amazed by how much of it I remembered.
Happily, these books have been brought back into print, many of them in paperback.