If I had to choose one book that epitomized our time in Europe for me, I would choose the beautiful translation of the book Heidi that I found in a bookstore in Amsterdam. Heidi was originally written in German, of course, so that makes the selection more obvious. The volume itself is lovely! The cover is a mass of tiny, raised, gold embossed white and periwinkle flowers. The beautiful text and illustrations are printed on creamy, gold-gilded art paper. It’s the perfect size for reading. The printing itself is the epitome of joy. But my favorite element of this book is the translation.
I grew up with a lovely paperback volume of Heidi. I purchased a sturdier hardback of another edition for my children. When I found a lovelier printing, I purchased it. The older copy had seen better days, so we donated it. Much to my chagrin. The children soon let me know that this edition of Heidi did not muster as much pleasure as our previous edition. Instead of reading delightful stories of “grandmother,” the pages were marred with the term “granny” and other atrocities. It had not before occurred to me that there was no one, beautiful, standard English translation of the original German text.
I had to shelf finding a new edition for a time, but while in Germany, I renewed my search. We purchased a translation by Eileen Hall, and it restored much of the delight of our original hardback. The illustrations were lovely, but the copy itself was paperback. That would never do for long in our home. I eventually searched until I found our previous copy. It was translated by Louise Windsor Brooks. We didn’t like the translation or printing as well, but it was sturdier, which is important.
When I walked into The English Bookshop in Amsterdam and saw this version of Heidi among Chiltern’s stunning selections, I prayed that the translation would be by Eileen Hall. Fortunately, God loves me even more than that. I was unfamiliar with Elizabeth P. Stork’s translation, but I now consider it the very best. Her husband explains why in the book’s introduction and I agree with every word he says. The Eileen Hall is still lovely, but I love how the Swiss elements bleed through in Stork’s words. They really are such a poetic people!
Do you sense that finding the perfect edition of this children’s book brings me joy? To say that I adore it is a gross understatement. I placed it in my carry-on to hand deliver across the pond when we moved back to the states. I was taking no chances. I keep it in my bedroom on my shelf of treasures, and ordered a second copy for the children. They are not allowed to read my pristine, Amsterdam-acquired copy but may enjoy, finger, and generally muddle it’s replica to their heart’s delight. Every mother must keep a few things sacred for herself to enjoy.
What is in your private hoard lately? Your equivalent of secretly eating dark chocolate in the bathroom while the children are watching their favorite show? What soulful delights are you savoring lately? Send me an email! I’d love to hear all about it!
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