A not uncommon concept associated with fictional literature is the consequences of unintended motivations. The upside to this occurs when critical study can produce logical textual evidence supporting interpretation of themes and meanings which the author truly never intended or was even aware he was producing. The downside is a call for banning, burning and censoring works of fiction on the basis that it condones or even urges behavior deemed outright criminal or—more typically—in non-criminal violation of the readers’ own person code of ethics or morality. The worst-case scenario is when this interpretation of sponsorship of unwanted behavior has been deemed intentional by the author.
In the case of The Enormous Crocodile, it seems highly unlikely that Roald Dahl intentionally desired for members of his childhood audience to take away a lesson that stands in direct opposition to every other theme the story intentionally explores. This a story that harkens back to fairy tale morality plays like “Three Little Pigs” and “Little Red-Riding Hood.” A malevolent animal force is present that preys upon the weak and requires a concerted effort toward outsmarting in order to defeat. Where Dahl’s story differs substantially is in its villain.
The wolves who prey upon pigs, grandmothers and little girls entering the forest alone carry out their plans for a very intense lunch or dinner pretty much alone. The one thing they most certainly do not do is go around telling other animals what they’ve got planned; the schemes to blow down houses or dress up in human clothing remains secreted away and privately secured. This does not turn out to be particularly successful in avoiding having their plans go awry, but it almost certainly would not have increased the odds of success.
By contrast, the story of The Enormous Crocodile plays out in much the same way as those fairy tales by having the toothy predator lose in the end. The enormous divergence in this case is that a huge question mark lingers over the story: would the outcome have been different had the crocodile not been so stuffed up with pride and arrogance that he felt completely free to confess his plans to the elephant, monkey, bird and hippo? The illustrations suggest a very hearty yes, indeed, the difference would have been quite tragic.
The only people around when the crocodile disguises himself as a coconut tree are the two objects of his lure, Toto and Mary. These two kids very likely only avoid winding up the story’s equivalent of the little Kintner boy in Jaws because the hippo shows up in the nick of time. At the other end of the spectrum are the near misses in the playground, park and fair. In these cases, there are other people around who might have been able to do something to stop the crocodile, but the more likely case would seem to be that he would just have a bigger menu from which to choose.
The unintended lesson the story seems to teach—and certainly more intuitive kids would not miss this—is that if you want to go about a devious and sinister plan, don’t be stupid enough to tell anyone about it who is capable of stopping you. This is, of course, a horrible lesson to put into a children’s book and while Dahl certainly loves to trample around in the more grotesque realms childhood, his stories cannot be accused of actively sponsoring criminal behavior.
Interestingly—hard as it may be to believe—attempts have been made to ban The Enormous Crocodile from some school districts. The rationale has been “the book's sinister nature and the negative actions of the animals - particularly against children.” That those who wanted to ban the book completely missed a much more robust rationale that might be much more convincing probably says all one needs to know about the kind of people who want to ban any work of fiction.
