Ukrainian-French-English dictionary

So, upon my first 15 minutes of being home (2 weeks ago) I somehow came upon one of my favorite books from childhood: a super-cooky Canadian-Ukrainian Richard Scarry illustrated dictionary. 


Behold:

According to Andy Dzul, the reason this wonderful publication even exists is because the Canadian government subsidizes all books published for the cultural education of minority groups (i.e. Quebecois, Inuit, and, most importantly, Ukrainian-Canadians!!!) 

This also explains why all books we ever encountered in Ukie school were all printed in Canada.... I guess before I just always assumed the Ukrainians of the Great Canadian Plains made mad bank off of harvesting beets and/or tourism to the world's biggest pierogi and utilized their extra cash flow for the good of obscure Western-Ukraine-via-1945 textbooks. Guess not.  Still, further proof that Canada = a great place.

Millions more pics after the jump! Click "Read more," yo.

Anyway, because of its Canadian origins, everything in this dictionary had to also be translated into French. 

Thus: the the awkward and random linguistic menage a trois that is the very existence of a Ukrainian-English-French dictionary. Creating situations like this one:

Take all of your (neglible) children's book content, then translate it into 3 different languages and evidently you create the most unnecessarily giant tri-lingual moose table-of-contents ever. 

But, hey, they also included a portrait of me so I can't complain:

A lot of the individual pages themselves are super beautiful.

Just look, a circus!!!!

AND FOOD!

The 2-page spreads are also pretty epic.

The zoo!

And, you know, for the dudes (and also those of us from the D): cars!

(Note the educational ideology at work here: Before you know how to say, "Please take me to the hospital, I am bleeding internally." you will be able to say antique car and auto carrier. Uraaaa for Slavic language education!)

That said, like all Richard Scarry work, the beauty of this book is in the details. And by that I mean: the gay stereotypes. Maybe it's because the book is from Canada, and Canada loves the gays?

Example: I'm sorry, this flamingo is clearly a gay man.

Also, this bear.

Queer Farmer Film Project. 

Really subtle in your depiction of this lesbian family, those Ukrainian-Canadians. I mean, Cats AND babies?  (I should note that this was always my favorite page in my youth. I had love for the pictures of all the baby strollers and gear, what can I say)

 Also, I can't help but chuckle over how much would be totally lost in translation if one was a) Canadian, b) French, c) French Canadian, d) Anyone who is not Ukrainian. Orest Dubas (translator) really managed to insert some not-so-subtle Ukrainian cultural references in there. 

I.E. First official page: Bear gets ready for school... wearing traditional Ukrainian folk costume.

In the meantime, Picasso Pig dedicates himself to the post-cubist rendering of a girl in Ukrainian folk costume. 

Question: why is it that the pig only has colored paints at his disposal, yet his sketch is black and white??? Goddamn that Orest Dubas. Give that girl the bright red boots she deserves, bro.

 Can't read Cyrillic? Great, then I can let you know that this plane and helicopter are totally going to the commercially-successful urban metropolis of Paris. And definitely not anywhere in Eastern Europe. Definitely not.

I would decry the idea of Hutsul bears if it wasn't so true to everyday life in the great nation of Canada. Clearly all bears that scale the Canadian Rockies wear  pleasant green hats, carry decorative axes, and fear river spirits. 

And my personal favorite: the statue that is definitely NOT Taras Shevchenko (Seriously, check it), nevertheless labeled as "Taras Shevchenko." 

 Quebec is filled with these Taras-Shevchenko-that-is-not-actually-Taras-Shevchenko statues, believe it. 

No amount of erasing Thomas Jefferson's features rather than re-drawing Scarry's statue will make that bro like like Taras, Mr. Dubas. I mean, really. 

Finally: I am puzzled at a few truly unexplainable moments in this book. Nothing in Ukrainian culture I know of justifies a turkey in a tiny car and/or a demonic walrus dental hygienist. I'm lost.

... Could it (finally) be the French-Canadian element at work? 

Whatever the reason may be, I'm just so happy I found this book. Even if half of the words are from 1945. It makes me happy.