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Entertainment Weekly, September 27,
1991
Day's
Dog
In her popular series of charming
picture books about a baby-sitting canine named Carl, Alexandra Day further
boosts the good standing of manís best friend.
BY
KELLI PRYOR
It's
not the kind of place you'd expect to find a 50-year-old woman who
illustrates children's books and wears her hair swept into a
schoolmarmish knot. But here is Alexandra Day, south of the border
in a Tijuana, Mexico, jai alai palace.
"We
need your picks on this one," her husband, Harold, 58, tells her as
he prepares to make a bet. Dressed in a handmade silk and velveteen
ensemble, Day looks more like she's absorbing a sermon at her local
Episcopal church back home in San Diego than sizing up fleet
athletes with curved baskets strapped to their arms. Day deduces
that players four and five will win. And they dojust about the time
a waiter delivers her drink, a sludgy Kahlua concoction known as a
Pemex Oil.
Alexandra
Day has a knack for surprising juxtapositions. In fact, she's famous
for it: She's the creator of a fierce looking rottweiler named Carl
who gently tends an infant in a series of children's books that
began in 1985, when Day's family-owned Green Tiger Press published
Good Dog, Carl. The
series, which features very few words and lots of vivid pictures,
has continued with Carl Goes
Shopping and Carl's
Christmas and has sold close to 1 million copies. In 1990, Carl's Christmas even
knocked Judith Krantz out of the No. 4 position on the New York Times hardcover
best-seller list.
Now
comes Carl's Afternoon in the
Park. Farrar, Straus & Giroux has set a first printing of
400,000 copies of the new pictorial tale of Carl's romp in San
Diego's Balboa Park. The publisher also is reissuing two earlier
titles, so that by the end of the year there will be a total of 2
million Carl books in print. Columbia Pictures is developing a live
action movie, Carl's Big
Adventure, produced by Robert Lawrence (A Kiss Before Dying) and
written by Jim Cox (The
Rescuers Down Under).
While
Carl has been wagging his way onto best-seller lists, the woman who
created him has been hiding behind a pseudonym. Alexandra Day is
really Sandra Darlingsomething she didn't tell even the publishers
who bought her work (including Paddy's Pay-Day and Frank and Ernest) after
Green Tiger Press was sold in 1986. Darling simply pretended to be
Day's agent. The pseudonym ploy protected Day from having to squeeze
publicity activities into already overstuffed
hours.
Day
presides over a pinkish, Spanish style home near Balboa Park that
rattles with the comings and goings of the Darlings' seven children,
ages 17 to 28. She dotes on her old-fashioned roses, does her share
of the family's vegetarian cooking, and sews all her own clothing
from vintage patterns. (For many years, she wore nothing but long
skirts because she loved the potential of all those yards of
fabric.) And now that she has been revealed and has resigned herself
to giving interviews, Day simply weaves them into her everyday whirl
of writing checks for kids, changing light bulbs, and stepping
around the playful tussles of the family dogs Arambarri, a
rottweiler named after a favorite Basque jai-alai player, and
Sprocket, an Irish terrier.
Day dreamed up
Carl from her experiences at home and at work in various family
businesses. In 1970,
the Darlings, who owned secondhand-book stores in San Diego, founded
Green Tiger Press to publish postcard reproductions of illustrations
culled from the antique childrenís books that the family collects by
the thousands. Their
design studio, the Blue Lantern, has room after room of prized
volumes by Arthur Rackham, Lothar Megendorfer, and L. Frank
Baum. ìWhen it comes
to childrenís books,î Harold Darling says, ìthe bulk of excellence
lies in the past.î
The Darlings put
that excellence to work for them. In 1972, Green Tiger
published its first book, All
Mirrors Are Magic Mirrors, a rumination on childrenís literature
written by Harold and illustrated with antique drawings. It sold 50,000 copies by
mail order, and the Darlings knew they had to expand. Their staff
eventually grew to 35 people, including their kids, and Green Tiger
even started publishing books by such contemporary artists as Cooper
Edens (Helping the Flowers).
Day, whose grandfather, father, and uncle were painters, took
inspiration from her favorite old-world artists and began
illustrating books of her own.
To
find antique-book treasures, the entire family has repeatedly
traipsed across Europe. "I remember traveling with whole suitcases
full of Pampers," Day recalls of those forays. It was on one such
trip to Zurich in 1984 that the Darlings chanced upon an 1860s
German broadsheet titled Der
Brave Karo, about a cartoon canine that charmingly cares for a baby
whose mother has stepped out on an errand. Later, Day remembered the
helpful poodle-type pooch but misremembered his name as Carl. Which
is why she didn't create a book called Good Dog, Karo.
For
Day, there was only one woofer with the charm and good nature to be
the real-life incarnation of Carl. She posed the family's beloved
pet, an affable rottweiler named Toby. Day has never been concerned
about the breed's fearsome reputation, explaining that "it comes
from rottweilers' having a great desire to please their owners. If
an owner wants violence, he'll get it." All the Darlings demanded
from Toby was affection, and in return he was so gentle that Day
didn't hesitate to let her only granddaughter, Madeleine, model as
Carl's infant charge. The warmth Day put into her realistically
rendered oil paintings has earned the books so much adoration that
it's not farfetched to speculate that Carl is partly responsible for
boosting rottweilers, last year for the first time ever, into the
top five of the American Kennel Club's most-popular-breeds
list.
Sadly,
though, the family's own died two years ago of old age. "Everybody
cried for a week, especially me," Day says as she sips a cup of tea
in her garden. "And then I said to [my youngest son], ëLetís just go
look at some puppies, just shop around.í Well, of course, we bought
the first one.î That
first one, Arambarri, looks up at her as she speaks. She rubs his
head and talks about painting him as a puppy in Carl's Afternoon in the Park.
And even though he's all grown up and Carl-size now, Day says
she'll never use Arambarri as model for that good dog. "Carl is
always Toby," she says with a wistful resolve. "Always will
be."
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