This rollicking Appalachian folktale is a hoot.
This rollicking Appalachian folktale is a hoot.
W e Schuttes are no strangers to the stage. Thanks to my mom’s persistence, we all learned to speak up and speak clearly from a young age and have no trouble presenting to or performing for a crowd. Acting ability is another question, however, and some of my siblings have that skill in spades. I’m not among them, but I can muddle along as a side character when needed, as I was a few years ago when we put on a home reenactment of the Appalachian folktale Soap! Soap! Don’t Forget the Soap!
Tom Birdseye’s retelling of this hilarious tale is a family favorite, and the illustrations by Andrew Glass are delightfully colorful. The story’s star, Plug Honeycut, is horribly forgetful. Why, he can’t even remember his own name most of the time! Plug’s mama, though, fiercely loves her only son, and has a confidence in his abilities that even Mother Teresa might question.
One fine day, she discovers she’s plum out of soap, and entrusts Plug with money and the task of going to town to purchase a serviceable bar. I love the picture on this page: Plug, standing as a little kid would, hands dangling down, belly pooched, trying to focus but not really succeeding. His mama, kneeling in front of him, gazing right into his eyes as she recites a little mantra to help him remember:
“Soap! Soap! Don’t forget the soap!”
Off Plug trots, all the while reciting Soap! Soap! Don’t forget the soap! Soap! Soap! Don’t forget the soap! But since “no one is as forgetful as Plug,” it doesn’t take more than two shakes of a lamb’s tail before a bullfrog sighting knocks the phrase clean out of Plug’s memory.
From here, it’s just one verbal mishap after another, as Plug desperately tries to remember what his mama asked of him, but all he can repeat is the most recent phrase of each person he meets along his way. And unluckily for Plug, none of these characters are kind, understanding folks. Nope, they keep thinking our hapless hero is mocking them, and Plug lands in all sorts of hot water (and brambles) for his innocent mistakes.
Andrew Glass’s illustrations truly complete this book. The pages are well thought out, and white space is utilized just as well as the bright images. He captures the backwoods look perfectly, as everything is full of holes or covered in patches. Each character is wonderfully expressive, but none more so than Plug, whose outfit gets increasingly ragged as the tale progresses. Every detail, from the smashed egg on his floppy-brimmed hat to the flapping soles of his shoes, is vividly depicted.
It was for one memorable Father’s Day that we decided to make a home play out of the book as entertainment for the Man of the Hour, and we managed to do it with only a few parts doubled. Half the fun of this story is the voices for each character, from the angry, bearded bald man to the shrill, snooty mayor’s wife. Funnily enough, each of my siblings matches to a character quite well, and after a rapid rehearsal, some frantic dress-up-bin dives, and a hasty prop consultation, we invited our parents to the basemen—the theater.
This wasn’t the first time Soap! had made its theatrical debut. In my junior year of high school, I taught a small class at our local co-op titled “Readers’ Theater,” wherein a group of middle-schoolers learned how to speak and recite. We played acting games, learned poems, and read stories, all with the goal of learning good stage presence. One of our activities was acting out Soap! which became a very popular classroom pastime.
It was armed with this experience that I embraced my role as Plug’s mother in our basement production, and despite a few costume mishaps, we played it to much applause from the powers that be.
So thank you to Birdseye and Glass for bringing this story to life for so many readers. You’ve brought hours of delight to our family, and we look forward to reading this story for years to come.