my brilliant review of Watty Piper’s THe Little Engine That Could

[Censored by Amazon.com in an attempt to stifle my genius]

Of course, it is disturbing to see a train in distress. Then again it is also disturbing to see a train who is quite certain of itself. Smug smog. Smug Smog. 

It alarms me not too much that this woefully dreary volume reverberates with the grumbles of overt white-supremacy. What I cannot purge from my mind are the obvious and trite colors of those trains!

The bumbling red train is, no doubt, a satire of the American, rural, lower-middle-class. Here, Watty Piper makes a bold argument concerning the employability of factory workers relative to the cognitive demands of modern life.  Very well. Then the Gold engine arrives on the 11th page (none too soon) and the little clown jumps off the (lower-middle class) Red train and declares: "Here come a shiny new engine...Let us ask him to help us" (11).Of course, the Gold Engine represents the cold indifference of the bourgeoisie that is SO characteristic of “choo-choo” train literature:

The Gold Train exhorts, "I pull you? I am a Passenger Engine. I have just carried a fine big train over the mountain, with more cars than you ever dreamed of…”. Such arrogance. The Big Black Engine arrives. I normally don’t mind being reminded of our national shame (and much prefer it to baseball) BUT,  when it is time for bed, I would prefer that Watty Piper make a more subtle allusion to our dark history. Will the Big, Black Engine, upon which we have foisted our most foul and weighty Baggage, stop and help us? Of course not. Well, maybe the kind engine will help us? No, of course not. Kindness is a feminine and weak trait.

At long, long, long last the little, blue engine arrives representing a nascent American Republic. A harbinger of hope comes over the mountain in a resplendent shimmer of yellow sun. But we know that Watty Piper is clearly inverting the narrative of Dostoyevsky's lesser known work: The Little Engines of Siberia who, On Account of the Weather, Could Not. In this semi-ironic portrayal of American values, coupled with individual performance anxiety, We must ask, “Watty Piper, why must you be so OBVIOUS?”

Were I not a serious scholar with a critical mission, I would not have finished this loathsome tome. 2 Stars. - Dr. Yannick Peetridish