Brer-Rabbit.com

I was poking around Wikipedia earlier, when I came across the page for E. W. Kemble. Kemble was an American illustrator who did some illustrations for some of the Brer Rabbit stories. He also did the original illustrations for The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

Huckleberry Finn has been one of my favorite books since I first read it as a teenager. I have always been attracted to a good satire, and this book fits the bill and then some. But there is also the fact that characters at the end refer to each other as ‘Brer’ and ‘Sister’ – a fact that, as you can guess, caught my attention from the first time I read it.

I found out later that Mark Twain and Joel Chandler Harris were not only contemporaries, but friends as well. These days of Wikipedia, it’s easy enough to find that yes, Harris and Brer Rabbit did impact Twain’s works, but at the time just the idea that this widely studied and regarded book was  referencing stories society seems so intent on forgetting ever even existed was amazing to me.

Then again, Huckleberry Finn also has drawn its own line of fire through the years,consistently being put on lists of banned books. But the best satire does draw controversy. Huckleberry Finn, though, is still considered an important piece of work today. So why can’t we treat Brer Rabbit the same way?

No, I’m not referring to the story by the same name. But the title is always one I’ve appreciated, since it rings so close to home. It’s the reason I chose the illustration I did for the header graphic, and I figured it would be a good title for my story.

It all started one fateful trip to Disneyland, when my mother had left me in the care of my sister and her friend. I don’t know why. I think she wanted to ride Star Tours. I, on the other hand, wanted to ride Pirates of the Caribbean again. However, my sister and her friend wanted to ride Splash Mountain.

Now, I was at the tender age of 6 (or was it 7?), and had not quite conquered my fear of the Big Kid Rides. I had Thunder Mountain under my belt, but everything else was just too scary. Especially Splash Mountain, with that huge drop that seemed to go straight down. I don’t know exactly what else I imagined happening on it, but it likely was just dark caverns in which the logs zipped up and down equally scary hills. I would have none of that.

However, my caretakers were determined, and tried to convince me to give it a try. At last, after my persistent denial, they seemed to concede, and told me that instead we would go ride a different Pirates of the Caribbean. Curious, I agreed to this.

It was not until we were well in line that I realized I had been tricked, and were actually about to board Splash Mountain. In retrospect, I see how appropriate this is, considering the ride is centered around the King of Tricksters. I attempted to protest, but my sister convinced me to just suck it up and give it a try.

Of course, I loved it. You can imagine my surprise when we first entered the ride building, and there were singing animals. Singing animals! And it was bright and colorful! Nothing like I had envisioned at all. Not only that, but the dreaded drop really wasn’t that scary at all. In fact, it was actually… fun. I loved it so much, I dragged my mother back on it later that night. The second time around was when I finally noticed it revolved around a particular rabbit.

After I went home, I dug out the Zip-Ah-Dee-Doo-Dah Sing-A-Long tape I had, since I recognized the song on the attraction as being from it. I noticed, too, that the same rabbit was there at the end. My mother explained to me it all had come from a movie, Song of the South – but unfortunately, it wasn’t available. I was disappointed, but hoped they would release it soon.

Later, I would discover The Wonderful Tar Baby Story in a copy of Disney’s Story Land. I would also find the other songs on two other Sing-A-Long compilations. Slowly, I was beginning to piece things together. In another Disney book, I found De Wull-er-de-Wust, my first exposure to the idea of there being stories beyond what I saw on Splash Mountain.

By fourth grade, infatuation had given way to full blown love. Another trip to Disneyland that year I had gotten the Brer Rabbit plush that would soon become the Hobbes to my Calvin. In my school library, I would finally discover the original tales as adapted by Margaret Wise Brown. Though I still held hope for Song of the South’s release, I could hold myself over with these.

I grew older, but never grew out of my love for Brer Rabbit and his stories. In my early teens, I started the first version of this website, Brer Rabbit Stew. I have often wondered why I never out-grew these stories, but I think the answer is simply that they’re so multi-layered, they’re enjoyable for any age. The older I get, the more I understand the symbolism contained in them; they also somehow became even funnier as an adult.

But I think Uncle Remus himself puts it best: “Ef dez yer tales wuz des fun, fun, fun, en giggle, giggle, giggle, I’d a-done drapt um long ago.” As I’ve grown older, I’ve understood that there is so much depth to these stories. They deserve to be preserved and studied; most of all, they still deserve to be appreciated.

As you can guess, I was more than happy to volunteer.

In the late 1800‘s, Joel Chandler Harris published his book, Uncle Remus: His Songs and Sayings. Though several had published the stories before, his was the first to bring the plantation tales of Brother Rabbit, more commonly known by the shortened version of Brer Rabbit, to popularity among the general public.

In the middle of the 1900‘s, another visionary known as Walt Disney would again introduce Brer Rabbit and his woodland critters to the public via another medium: the silver screen.

Both men helped to immortalize the folklore of the old plantations through the mediums which were hot during their time; Harris with books, and Disney through motion picture. Today technology has advanced probably beyond anything either men ever could have imagined, but unfortunately, the Brer Rabbit stories have all but slipped from the public conscience.

These days, the stories often face criticism, accused of racism and portraying the Old South in too romantic of a light. Disney’s Song of the South hasn’t seen the light of day on American shores since the mid-eighties, and disappeared from international shelves around the turn of this century. Harris, who was contemporaries and good friends with Mark Twain, is a name many students today haven’t even heard of. It’s tragic how Brer Rabbit is disappearing, despite the impact he has had on society — in ways you may not even have realized.

In the early Nineties, my older sister dragged me kicking and screaming on Splash Mountain for the first time. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship, as the cliche goes. We’re lucky the popular attraction is around, as it remains perhaps the only exposure to Brer Rabbit many kids today will ever have. And I’m living proof it can leave them curious for more.

It’s my hope that I can utilize the hot medium of today in much the same fashion Joel Chandler Harris and Walt Disney did before me to preserve these legends. Even close to twenty years after first discovering Brer Rabbit, he and his tales still never fail to make me happy. My goal is for this site to become the ultimate resource for all things Brer Rabbit: from analysis of stories, to reviews of movies, to humorous anecdotes,  and everything in between.