New edition of `Rudolph’ a great gift for the children

RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSED REINDEER, by Robert L. May, Applewood Books, distributed by Globe Pequot Press, 32 pages, $9.95.

Rudolph takes a curtain call. By popular demand, the authentic reproduction of the original edition of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” (published last year in a Golden Anniversary Edition) has just come out in its third printing. Limned in rhymed couplets energized with the original action-packed illustrations of artist Denver Gillen, this beloved classic tells the touching tale of the disadvantaged little reindeer whose scoffed-at red nose unexpectedly becomes his most valuable asset one foggy Christmas Eve.

There is a special mystique to this treasure of the past. Faithful in every detail, it is a capacious 7 1/2 by 10 inches with vivid scarlet and black hardcovers and a cheerful drawing of the irrepressible Rudolph, the whole encased in an eye-catching dust jacket showing Santa reading the story of Rudolph to a short-haired dog and two wide-eyed children.”

“‘Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the hill,” it begins, “The reindeer were playing … enjoying the spills/ Of skating and coasting, and climbing the willows … / And hop-scotch and leap-frog (protected by pillows!)/ While every so often they’d stop to call names/ At one little deer not allowed in their games.”

Why was Rudolph ostracized? The author loses no time in explaining: “Where most reindeers’ noses are brownish and tiny,/ Poor Rudolph’s was red, very large, and quite shiny./ In daylight it dazzled. (The picture shows that!)/ At night-time it glowed, like the eyes of a cat.”

No one enjoys being an outcast and Rudolph was no exception. But he tried to be philosophical about it, believing — along with Voltaire’s Candide — that all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds. On Christmas Eve, as he drifted off to sleep, he told himself that Santa, the jolly, generous gift-giver, would leave him as many toys and goodies as he would to “the happier, handsomer reindeer who teased him.” But way up North, Santa had other things on his mind. “This fog … will be hard to get through,” he fretted, looking out at the swirling gray mists. It turned out that he was right. He made his rounds nonetheless, and it was Rudolph who came to the rescue that foggy Christmas Eve.

How can one explain the popularity of this somewhat pedestrian admixture of familiar and stereotypical ingredients? Why has fame — which a proverb warns serves no master — doffed its cap to this simple tale? Was it the catchy gimmick of Rudolph’s red nose? Or could it have been the special circumstances that stimulated its creation.

The author, Robert May, was in his mid-30s when he wrote “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” A shy, retiring man, and a Phi Beta Kappa graduate of Dartmouth, Class of 1926, he was employed as a copywriter in the catalog advertising department of Montgomery Ward in Chicago. In the ’30s, it was the custom of the company to distribute to children who came to their stores at Christmas small books purchased from peddlers. The pinch of the Depression forced Montgomery Ward to economize, and in January 1939, it decided it would be cheaper if they produced and printed a giveaway book for the next Christmas. The writing of the story was delegated to the advertising department whose head gave the assignment to Robert May.

It was the worst of times for May. Married and parent of a child, he was living in the shadow of his terminaly ill wife’s impending death, and worry over rapidly mounting medical bills. Yet without complaint he took on the extra workload of creating the Christmas story. Months later he finished the narrative-poem he called “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” in time for Montgomery Ward to print 2.4 million copies.

Although the poem was well-received by young readers, the war intervened soon thereafter, so the second edition was postponed until 1946 when the company printed and gave away 3.5 million copies. The impact of these numbers produced such vast name recognition of Rudolph he became almost as venerated a yuletide icon as Santa Claus.

Commercial offers poured in to May, all to no avail because “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” was the exclusive property of Montgomery Ward. All at once an event straight out of a fairy tale took place: Sewell Avery, chairman of Montgmery Ward, presented the copyright to May with no strings attached.

With the speed of a tidal bore vast sums of money flowed in from 500 licensed commercial products, a TV film version (still aired almost every year by a major network), and a “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” foot-tapping tune that soared to second place, eclipsed only by “White Christmas.” The grateful May, who had married again and fathered five more children, referred to Rudolph as “my generous son,” adding that it was the red-nosed reindeer who had made it possible for him to send six children to college. Characteristically the ever-modest May once said in an interview, “Apart from Rudolph my life is not outstanding.” In 1976 he died as quietly as he had lived.

Bea Goodrich’s reviews are a regular feature in the monthly Books in Review section. Goodrich also writes a review column and is the author of the award-winning nature story series, “Happy Hollow Stories by Judge Tortoise.”