When I was in Paris (in April, see blogposts below) I bought a little book for my grandson who is three. This was Anaïs Vaugelade's somewhat surrealistic story, Le Matelas Magique. Entranced by my discovery, I set about translating it for Alexander during my ride to London on the Eurostar train. Alexander loved the book, by the way, in whichever language we read it to him:
It's eight o'clock.
"Goodnight, Mummy," says Eli.
"Already, my lion cub?"
"Do you want me to come and read you a story?" says Daddy.
"No thank you," says Eli. "I think I'll be going to go to sleep straight away. Good night!"
What Daddy and Mummy didn't know is that Eli the lion cub's mattress is a magic mattress. There's a sort of hollow place in the middle. If he presses himself down into the hollow, Eli goes through it to the Other Side...
Eli has all kinds of adventures on the Other Side, some good, some utterly scary ("...a herd of monsters without tails and without any heads are running after him") and some rather tricky to translate without my English version sounding dubious ("...While the mattress is hearing the news about Granny Sofa, Eli plays with the poufs"...), but the book ends in a way that never failed—during our several repetitions of reading it—to make Alexander laugh out loud:
On the Other Side is the sea. A current carries Eli away and throws him down on the beach. A wave brings him the mattress. Another wave brings him a telephone ...
(That was the line, with its accompanying picture, that made Alexander giggle so much.)
The telephone rings. It's Mummy calling. "Good morning, my lion cub, time to get up."
"OK," says Eli. "Coming in five minutes."
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