Personal Life and Interests

Art
A doodler at heart, Ted often remarked—with a twinkle in his eye—that he never really learned to draw. His school notebooks often included bizarre creatures that framed sporadic notes he had taken in class. While his work is very distinct to adults and children, Janet Schulman—his editor for the last 11 years of his life—admits that he despised when his writing and illustrations were referred to as “whimsical.”

Ted was also very, very particular about color. According to Cathy Goldsmith, his art director from 1980 through 1991, his sense of color was very idiosyncratic (which means the colors he used were very distinctly and recognizably ‘Seuss’).

His paintings might not have been considered serious by critics’ standards, but Ted took his painting very seriously—it relaxed him. Using watercolor, gouache, ink, or casein, Ted would create vivid scenes with skewed, nonsensical perspectives and images. He would often contrast bright colors against a much darker background, creating an illusion of the subject popping out of the painting. While he longed for critical recognition that he was an artist, Ted would not sell his paintings out of fear of critics’ rejection.

When Ted needed to clear his thoughts or relieve a creative block, he often took an afternoon walk through his garden. Ted considered tending to his garden and trees another form of art, and when he worked in this “media,” he created a soft, pastoral setting.

According to Ted, however, his greatest work wasn’t a particular book or lavish gardens. It was the Lion Wading Pool at Wild Animal Park in San Diego, which he donated in 1973. (Dr. Seuss from Then to Now, p. 80)

Helen Palmer Geisel
Helen Palmer and Ted Geisel were classmates at Oxford University. It was Helen who first suggested that Ted draw for a living. While Helen was a tremendous support editorially, artistically, and administratively during much of Ted’s career, she was an accomplished author too. One of her books, Do You Know What I’m Going to Do Next Saturday?, was listed as one of the best juveniles by The New York Times in 1963. (Morgan, p. 182) Along with Ted and Phyllis Cerf, Helen was also a founder of Beginner Books, a young reader’s division of Random House Children’s Books. Later in life, Helen suffered from frail health, including cancer. She died on October 23, 1967.

Various Friends
Ted was quiet and almost shy until he got to know a person better. He had a delightful sense of humor and enjoyed friends who took part in his mischief.

Publisher Bennett Cerf was perhaps the most influential figure in Ted’s early publishing career. Cerf was the mastermind behind the sharing agreement with Houghton Mifflin and also orchestrated the birth of Random House’s Beginner Books division. It was Cerf who wagered that Ted couldn’t write a book using 50 words or less, prompting Ted to write Green Eggs and Ham. Cerf had the vision to see that Ted was going to turn the children’s book industry upside down, and he definitely wanted to be a part of it, so he created Beginner Books. Their friendship extended far beyond the walls of Random House, however, and by all accounts was very unique and special.

Famed columnist Art Buchwald was another dear friend of Ted’s. The two met at the San Diego Zoo and quickly struck up a friendship. One of Ted’s shining moments was when he responded to Buchwald’s chiding about Ted having never written a political book: Ted took a copy of Marvin K. Mooney, Will You Please Go Now!, crossed out Marvin’s name, and replaced it with “Richard M. Nixon.” With Ted’s blessing and despite protests from Random House, Buchwald printed the text in his column, and President Nixon resigned the following day (with Ted and Buchwald cheering for their collaborative effort).

Animator Chuck Jones met Ted as a civilian overseer of Frank Capra’s unit back in World War II, and the two remained friends for life. It was Jones who approached Ted about an animated Grinch special, and eventually Horton Hears a Who! Their collaborations were often heated, but the results were stunning. Jones describes their partnerships as “equally difficult and equally enjoyable.” (Morgan, 192) They also shared an affinity for bow ties, arguing for hours about the proper way to loop them. (Morgan, p. 109)

The Tower/Writing Habits
In 1948, Ted and Helen purchased an old observation tower in La Jolla (la-HOY-yah), California. “The Tower,” as it soon became known, was to remain the primary Geisel residence for the remainder of their lives. It was there that Ted worked his creative magic, locked in the studio within The Tower for at least eight hours each day and very often, much longer than that.

Janet Schulman, who is now semi-retired but continues her role as vice president of Random House Books for Young Readers, admits that Ted’s actual writing process was a bit of a mystery: “He was so private about it,” she explains. “When he was working on a book, he always had a general idea of what the book was going to be, but he put these pieces of paper on the wall, and there would be ‘holes’ within the sequence that usually belonged to the transition points.”

Others recall Ted putting on a “thinking cap” from his amazing hat collection and wearing it to help lighten the stress of creative blocks.

However he managed to do it, there’s no discrepancy that he did it well. “He was absolutely no trouble, he didn’t pester you like some authors can do, and he enjoyed both critical and commercial success,” Schulman reflects. “I miss him terribly—there will never be another Dr. Seuss.”

Issues/Opinions/Inspirations
Like most works of merit, the works of Dr. Seuss have been overanalyzed; many scholars have found devices where there are truly none to be found. For the most part, Ted enjoyed writing entertaining books that encouraged children to read. There are several—his later books, in particular—that were, in fact, inspired by current events or his own personal concerns.

For example, Ted was upset about the billboards and construction that threatened his tranquil community of La Jolla. On a broader spectrum, however, Ted was concerned about the environment as a whole; he wanted manufacturers, businesses, and individuals to take responsibility for their actions. The Lorax, published in 1971, weaves a familiar tale of a good thing gone wrong: the irresponsible, ambitious Once-ler builds a huge, thriving business at the expense of Truffula trees and the creatures who depend on them. Ted remained true to the Seussian style, but still managed to shame the current generation and challenge the next generation by demonstrating the pitfalls of progress . . . “unless.” (The Lorax, p.58)

The Butter Battle Book, perhaps the most controversial of all his books, was written in response to the arms buildup and nuclear war threat during the Reagan administration. Published in 1984, Butter Battle sheds light on the growing threat of war between the Yooks and the Zooks. The threat stems solely from the way Yooks and Zooks choose to eat their bread: butter-side up and butter-side down, respectively. The story ends with a blank page, leaving a cliffhanger ending that is open to interpretation. When Ted presented this particular project, Random House saw red flags!

For the first time in decades, editors and art directors questioned Dr. Seuss—the cover, the ending, the verb tenses, even the title itself went through several changes. Never one to initiate confrontation, Ted suddenly found himself defending every element in question. Ted remained as true to the original as possible because the book represented the truth about the arms buildup. Ultimately, few changes were made.

For six months, Butter Battle remained on The New York Times’ Bestseller List—for adults.

In 1990, when the televised version of The Butter Battle Book was shown in the U.S.S.R., Ted bragged that the country began “falling apart.” Indeed, the Soviet Union was crumbling at that time, but Ted’s message reached a much broader audience—and challenged readers to answer the question, how does it all end? (Morgan, p. 255)

Incidentally, the question Ted dreaded most was the question he was asked most often: “Where do you get your ideas?” He usually responded with a quip, most often “Uber Gletch.”

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