Bambi: A Life in the Woods (Bambi, #1) (2024)

How come I have never read this little treasure before now?

Bambi: A life in the Woods is a true classic of children’s literature, with passages of great joy and also of deep regret and sorrow; exhilarating, but also occasionally savage, and heavy with exquisite prose descriptions of the woods and countryside. The writer was evidently a keen naturalist, with an eye for details of flora and fauna throughout the seasons, and also skilled at his craft. His name was Felix Salten.

Felix Salten was an Austrian writer, born in Hungary in 1869. He was a prolific writer of short stories and novels, often about animals, travel books, and essay collections. He was also an Art and literary critic, and wrote articles for nearly all the major newspapers of Vienna. But what he is most famous for is his outstanding and memorable novel for children, Bambi, a Life in the Woods, which was first published in German as “Bambi: Eine Lebensgeschichte aus dem Walde” in 1923, and translated into English in 1928.

In 1942, Walt Disney made the classic animated film “Bambi”. But if your only experience of Bambi so far has been courtesy of Walt Disney, you will find reading this a much broader and deeper experience. Bambi’s friend, the rabbit “Thumper”, was an invention, as was “Flower” the skunk. Cute though they are, Felix Salten’s countryside is solidly European, with not a skunk or woodchuck in sight.

“In early summer the trees stood still under the blue sky, held their limbs outstretched and received the direct rays of the sun. On the shrubs and bushes in the undergrowth, the flowers unfolded their red, white and yellow stars. On some the seed pods had begin to appear again. They perched innumerable on the fine tips of the branches, tender and firm and resolute, and seemed like small clenched fists. Out of the earth came whole troops of flowers like motley stars, so that the soil of the twilit forest floor shone with a silent, ardent, colourful gladness. Everything smelled of fresh leaves, of blossom, of moist clods and green woods. When morning broke, or when the sun went down, the whole woods resounded with a thousand voices, and from morning till night the bees hummed, the wasps droned, and filled the fragrant stillness with their murmur.”

Opening the book at random it would be easy to find such a passage. This extract is from the first chapter, and conveys the experience of a very young fawn, only days old. It perfectly conveys the sensations and impressions of early summer. Where I am at the moment, I can see clumps of yellow primroses, daisies, and a few grape hyacinths; over my shoulder is an abundance of cowslip flowers, their frilly yellow bells dancing among the blades of grass, and along the path, another mass of bluebells. If I walk a while, there will be great banks of primroses and celandines. The freshly budding trees: oaks, birches and sycamores are beginning to lighten the world with their light green reflections, some clusters of wood anemones nestling in the grass between, bluebells dotted around, and masses of white wild garlic flowers in a field nearby. This is my experience right now. The sensations I feel as I look at all the wild bounty surrounding me (which I have feebly attempted to describe), is akin to the feelings triggered by reading this book. The enchantment of Bambi’s world can be conjured up regardless of where we read it. There is no need to be far from the city.

The story of Bambi is set in a forest, whose location is never specified. It was inspired by woods which Felix Salten discovered, when he was on holiday in the Alps. Bambi’s woodland home feels remote enough from humans to be a haven for wild creatures—but only for some of the time. There is a darkness in the book, which is at the heart of the story, and its important message. They animals are never completely free of the fear of “He”. a strange and incomprehensible being who invades the peace of the forest. “He” has the smell of death; an unearthly predator who possesses a “third arm”, which destroys and kills seemingly irregardless, and at a remote distance.

Many children’s books about animals portray the natural world as benign and kindly, but the forest here is no such place. Death, even violent death, is accepted as part of the natural scheme of things. There is great friendship in the forest, but there are many natural enemies too. Perhaps Felix Salten’s negative view of, in particular, human’s relationship with the natural world is not so surprising. Bambi was written in 1923, in the aftermath of the First World War, and many Europeans at that time, having witnessed the inhumanity of war, turned towards the idea of a natural world as a haven. What distinguishes this book is that although we see and yearn for Bambi’s world, we also see that nature is indeed red in tooth and claw, and never more so than when “He” enters the scene.

Felix Salten’s experiences after writing Bambi must only have confirmed his views of man’s inhumanity. He was Jewish, and life in Austria became increasingly perilous for a prominent Jew during the 1930s. In 1936, Adolf Hitler had Felix Salten’s books banned. Two years later, after Germany’s annexation of Austria, Felix Salten and his wife fled to Zurich, Switzerland, and lived there for the rest of their lives.

Essentially Bambi: A life in the Woods is a coming of age story, in which we also learn much about the different wild creatures’ habits. It is anthropomorphic, but completely unsentimental. The writer John Galsworthy, who wrote the introduction, says:

“Bambi is a delicious book … Felix Salten is a poet … I do not, as a rule, like the method which places human words in the mouths of dumb creatures, and it is the triumph of this book that, behind the conversation, one feels the real sensations of the creatures who speak. Clear and illuminating, and in places very moving, it is a little masterpiece.”

As well as this interesting short introduction, my copy has line drawings, plus a few lovely delicate water-colour plates, by Sylvia Green.

Bambi: A life in the Woods begins when Bambi is born, in a thicket in the woods. He is an awkward and innocent young fawn, and his mother has to teach him what it is to be a deer: both the joys and the fears. Anyone who has ever watched days-old lambs gambolling in the fields, will recognise this:

“Now he saw the whole heaven stretching far and wide and he rejoiced without knowing why. In the forest he had only seen a stray sunbeam now and then, or the tender, dappled light that played through the branches. Suddenly he was standing in the blinding hot sunlight whose boundless power was beaming upon him. He stood in the splendid warmth that made him shut his eyes but opened his heart.

Bambi was as though bewitched. He was completely beside himself with pleasure. He was simply wild. He leaped into the air, three, four, five times. He had to do it. He felt a terrible desire to leap and jump. He stretched his young limbs joyfully. His breath came deeply and easily. He drank in the air. The sweet smell of the meadow made him so wildly happy that he had to leap into the air.“

Felix Salten seems to gets right inside how it feels to be a particular animal. He describes how Bambi learns that deer do not kill other animals or fight over food. Bambi learns too, that for deer it is only safe to go to the meadow early in the morning and late in the evening, and that signals such as the rustle of last year’s dead leaves will warn them of approaching danger. Bambi learns to fear storms, and to enjoy more gentle rain. He begins to encounter other animals in the meadow, such as a grasshopper, a butterfly, and a hare. But he is most excited when he meets his cousins with their mother, Ena. They are the lovely doe Faline, and the foolish, delicate young buck, Gobo. And he is a little in awe, when two impressive stags with spreading antlers on their heads come crashing out of the forest. Bambi’s mother tells him quietly that one of these proud and grand stags is his father.

As he grows older, Bambi learns more about the sounds and smells of the forest. He is confused that sometimes his mother goes off by herself, and he goes calling, in search of her. But as he stands at the edge of a clearing:

“[Bambi] suddenly felt as if he were rooted to the ground and could not move.

On the edge of the clearing, by a tall hazel bush, a creature was standing. Bambi had never seen such a creature before. At the same time the air brought him such a scent as he had never smelled in his life. It was a strange smell, heavy and acrid. It excited him to the point of madness … A kind of dread emanated from that face, a cold terror. That face had a tremendous power over him. It was tremendously painful to look at that face, and yet Bambi stood starting fixedly at it.“

Bambi is terrified, and runs for cover, his mother appearing suddenly to run by his side. When they are both safe in their glade once more, his mother tells him, “That was “He”.”

Bambi shudders. He is learning to understand what it is to be a deer. Yet he still does not like to be alone, and frequently calls for his mother. On one occasion a magnificent stag stands before him, and asks him what he is crying about, “Can’t you stay by yourself? Shame on you!” he scolds.

Then he is gone, leaving the little fawn crestfallen. Bambi almost understands his true nature, and how he is expected to behave as a roe deer, but he has not attained full maturity. He is learning all the time, through his experience, his strong inner sensations and instincts, and the teaching he gets.

Bambi meets others in the woods, including “Old Prince”, the most magnificent, and wisest stag in the forest, whom he will meet again, when he has cause to be proud of himself. And he witnesses a great tragedy in the great meadow, which shocks him to the core. One morning he and his mother are grazing, when one of the stags comes out of the forest. Suddenly, there is a great booming blast of fire. The huge stag leaps into the air and then falls dead. Bambi senses with increasingly certainty that somehow “He” is the cause of it.

Summer gradually merges into Autumn and then becomes winter. Snow falls, and fresh grass is no longer easy to find. All the deer become more friendly during the cold months, and we see Bambi meeting with others; new faces such as “Marena”, and “Netla”, as well as his cousins. Bambi develops a great admiration for the fully grown stags, and longs to be like them, especially admiring “Ronno”, a fully grown stag who escaped after a hunter wounded him in the foot. Yet they all talk and worry about “He”, whom they know to be such a threat, and do not understand, and they tell each other terrifying stories about the third hand from which flame comes.

There is another tragedy, involving “He” and many others like him. Bambi was never to see his mother again after this. Bambi manages to run away because he hears a voice telling him to, but many of the animals do not survive the onslaught. This a very upsetting and graphic part of the book.

During the harsh winter months Bambi learns that not all the animals are so friendly any more, and those who used to merely tolerate each other no longer do so. Food is in short supply, and different species, starving and cold, start to prey on their natural enemies. But eventually the season passes, and by now Bambi has grown, and developed little budding antlers. Spring also brings new delicious feelings which unsettle him. The doe Faline seems to him to be getting more and more beautiful, but she is attended by two adult stags, the important stag who had been wounded, Ronno, and another fully grown stag, “Karus” . They no longer want Bambi to come near Faline. There is a serious fight between Bambi and Ronno, which Bambi wins. Karus flees the scene, and Faline is happy to become his mate.

Another crucial time for Bambi’s coming of age happens is when Bambi wakes up and can hear Faline calling him. He is desperate to be with her, but is prevented from doing so by an older deer, who tells Bambi that “He” often uses tricks such as sounding like the calling of a deer, to entice them into danger. Bambi asks Faline never to call him again, because he would never be able to resist her call.

One of the bucks who had disappeared earlier, returns to the story, and we learn his tale. Gobo, Faline’s brother, had almost been killed in the night of the mass slaughter, but had been taken home by “He”, and taken care of. Now he seems fit and well and tells everyone how good “He” is, and that there is nothing to fear. Gobo wears a ribbon round his neck with pride, and openly grazes in the field at all times of day. But an older and wiser stag pities him, and we know that Gobo is destined for a terrible fate.

This is one of many parts of the story which conjures up the later masterpiece, “Watership Down” to me. In that there is a character who is what we would call psychic, and has premonitions, and in Bambi we see aspects of the animals’ sensory perceptions which we humans cannot perceive. We also see individuals who are taken in, trapped and deceived by humans for their own ends. We see how humans routinely use the talents of animals for their own purposes, taking no account of the pain and devastation this may cause. There is much in common between some of the characters and the subtler elements of the story lines, and the ultimate message of these two books is the same.

There is much anguish towards the end of the story, but we see great courage, a determination to survive, and loyal friendship. We see how Bambi learns that “He” is simply a part of the world, as Bambi is himself, and that that they are both a part of something much bigger. There is a mystical, other-worldly suggestion, as Bambi learns the cycle of life, and an older stag, his father, “Old Prince”, who had cared for him when he was also wounded by a hunter says that it is time for him to go to the place where everyone goes alone.

It is not yet Bambi’s time. He has matured into a fine strong stag, and when he spots a couple of confused young fawns, oddly familiar in appearance, he find himself reiterating the words the stag once said to him, when he was a young buck, “Can’t you stay by yourself?”

Bambi’s world has come full circle.

This is a magical story, and one which teaches many lessons, to do with friendship, kindness and courage. No matter how difficult life may become, the author insists, we must never give up. We must never take what appears to be an easy way out. We may be able to rely on our friends, to help us overcome those difficulties, and must stay true to what we know is good. If we keep trying, in the end everything will resolve. Just like Bambi, the fawn who became a strong and proud stag, we will also stay true to our nature, and emerge stronger.

But of course the main message of the story is a warning to humanity. A dominant species such as humanity carries great responsibility. In Bambi, “He” is the creatures’ worst enemy: cold, distant and deadly to animals. Felix Salten believed that all animals—and Nature—deserve our respect. We have a duty to care for animals, and not kill them for our own desires, such as for sport, (or possibly, a sub-text here, is for food). When the Third Reich banned his books, it was not just because of Felix Salten’s ethnicity, but also because they found its anti-hunting message offensive to their ideology.

Felix Salten’s views ring loud and clear in this book, and they are timeless. Even the most minor characters are shown to reveal truths. Nettla is an old doe, who is self-sufficient and wise, with her own ideas about everything. She regards “He” with disgust, and can be seen every day in elderly people who are sceptical about “progress” for the wrong reasons, feeling that they have seen this all before. Marena reveals the other side of the coin. She is a young, half-grown doe who predicts that “He” will some day be as gentle as the deer themselves. Young and innocent, she is eternally optimistic.

Yet I cannot help dreaming a little, and hoping that Marena’s imagined future will come true.

Are you ready to be surprised? I was.
From the content of this book, I thought that it had been written in the 1930's. Salten was an Austrian Jew (born Siegmund Salzmann), and the story seemed to me wholly allegorical of the persecution of Jews during those years and after, into the Second World War. But it was written in 1922. It must be in some degree prescient, as anti-Semitism had yet to reach its worst expression, but the fact that it was not written during that later, abominable, period makes it universal, which I think it was intended to be. Unlike the sugared Disney version, the original tale, carefully translated by Jack Zipes, uses animals to represent various peoples at the mercy of the powerful and dominant social groups. As anti-Semitism increased, Salten became more Jewish, proud to be Jewish and hating the oppressors of his people and other ethnic minority groups. Man, in the story, is the merciless killer, and the animals his victims, but these representations give rise to contradictions and paradoxes, reflecting Salten's own life, and reaching beyond it. Yes, Man (called "He", in the translation) is the incomprehensible killer, but he can also show compassion (or what appears to be such) and animals at the receiving end of this become his willing slaves, see him as a god, only to be ultimately betrayed by Him. The animals are His victims, but they also tear each other apart. Life in the forest is not idyllic. The anthropomorphism chosen by Salten is powerful, a difficult tool to handle in the shifting balance of life and death, of human qualities, and animal natures, that are irreconcilable.
I did read the introduction (after reading the book), because I had inadvertently picked up from the back cover that Salten was himself a hunter, and I was most curious about this apparent contradiction. For Zipes,
"Clearly, Salten longed to be close to animals, whom he regarded as pure, honest and decent creatures, unlike the people of the Viennese society in which he lived and worked. His forays in the forest resembled paradoxical religious rituals in which he could cleanse himself of sin and then enjoy communion by hunting and killing the very creatures he loved. In writing Bambi, despite his own contradictions, he hoped to reveal that nature was not a paradise, and that only when people truly understood how the animals suffered persecution from hunting in the forest could they create peace among themselves."
Puzzled? According to Salten's daughter Anna, he wandered about his own hunting preserve night and day, and had an almost religious veneration of nature's marvels. He fired a shot "only very rarely, and then only when the principles of game keeping demanded it."
What is indisputable is that he had a wonderful, detailed, deep understanding of animals in the forest. So this book can be read on at least three levels; his own love of animals and his desire to have other people understand the horrors of their treatment of them; his fable, or allegory, of the treatment of human beings by others; and an exploration of the dichotomy in his own killing of the innocent creatures he loved.
The descriptions of the forest and the creatures who live in it are utterly beautiful and enchanting, which Walt Disney adhered to. But there is nothing sugar-sweet about this translation of the original. From the many moving passages in the story, one that stands out for me is the conversation between two leaves at the top of the tree, as they wither and fall from their branch.

“It’s no longer like the old days,” one leaf said to the other.
“You’re right,” responded the other leaf. “So many have fallen this evening that we’re almost the only ones left on our branch.”
“No one knows who is going to fall next,” the first leaf said. “When it was still warm, and the sun still provided heat, when a storm came or a cloudburst, many of the leaves were already torn off then, even if they were still young. You never know whose turn will come next.”
“The sun rarely shines now,” the second leaf sighed, “and even when it shines, it doesn’t strengthen us. We need to renew our strength.”
“Do you think it’s true,” the first leaf asked, “do you really think it’s true that other leaves come and replace us when we’re gone, and then others come and even others after them?”
“It’s certainly true,” the second leaf whispered. “Our minds are too small to think about this. It’s beyond us.”
“Plus, it’s all too sad if you think about it too much,” the first leaf added.
They were silent for a while. Then the first leaf said quietly to himself, “Why must we disappear?”
“What happens to us when we fall from the tree?” the second asked.
“We flutter to the earth.”
“What’s lying down there?”
“I don’t know,” the first leaf answered: “Some say one thing, some say something else. Nobody knows.”
“Do we still feel anything? Do we know anything more about ourselves when we are down there?”
The first leaf responded: “Who knows? None of those who have fallen down there have ever returned to tell us about it.”

His own death? Whose? Those countless deaths to come, when so many leaves fell from the tree?

“Why must we disappear?”

Nasuprot antropocentrične arogancije tinjajuće u pojedinim delima sa animalnom tematikom namenjenih prvenstveno (ne i beziznimno) deci, Salten ispisuje herbivorsko-životinjsku Bildungs romančinu (zdenutu u prirodnu opnu romančeta) koja u svoj svojoj lakohodnosti nije alegorijska oplata za čoveka ispod srndaćevog krzna. (Jeste, doduše, i to, kako drugačije ne bi ni mogla biti napisana, niti pojmljena, ali tako udaljeno, tako rafinirano i tako odstupno.) O, ne, stoga što se, za sve vreme organski zavodljive naracije, ne preinačuje paralelizam spram humanoidnog - humanoidnog zato jer se humanim niti može, niti zaslužuje nazvati - pa se otud unutar dijegetičkog ljudskim zalud ni ne naziva. Za životinjsko carstvo on nužno ostaje ON, dijabolički neimenljiv trojeručni demon - đavolika groteska udara po asimetriji! - gospodar vatre, zubobacač, svemogućnik, odvratni gospodar s golim likom čiju blizinu i miris u prirodi ne podnosi niko. A u suštastveno-namagnetisanoj prostoći teksta (licemerni) čitalac, moj bližnji, moj brat - JA, pre i pored svih! - o sebi saznaje iskosa i zaobilazno kroz radnju, eskivirajući sve zamke propovedanja, o tome da neprijateljsko i smrtoliko nose ljudsko obličje, a da on sám niti je srna, niti je srndać!

A "Bambi" kao prvorazredni mizantropsko-individualistički Klasik književnosti (za decu) kroz to ne hlapi, jer nam Salten, nijednog trenutka ne podilazeći s vašarskim trikovima, progovara o junaku do koga nam je stalo u majstorski ispričanoj priči vrednoj pričanja. O lepoti i ružnoći naštimovanih prema prirodi i godišnjim dobima, o toplini životinjske majke i spartanskoj hladnoći životinjskog oca, o neimenljivim brigama i tajanstvenim prožimanjima, o setnim nemirima i očekivanjima punim strepnje i vedrine. O raskoracima i naglinama odrastanja. U knjizi koju ne mogu dočekati da ponovo prođem za koju godinu, samo ovoga puta u dvoglasju!

P.S. Satima u sebi sprovodim tihu anketu zašto "Bambi", a ne "Knjiga o džungli": 1)Možda zato što je "Bambi" ujednačeniji, podjednako kvalitetan i u delovima i u celini, bez praznog hoda, dok u "Knjizi o džungli" ima čitavih priča-promašaja, banalno-simplifikovanih alegorija, naročito među onima koje se ne tiču pripovesti o Mogliju; 2)Kipling u "Džungli" čitaocu uvek do znanja stavlja da je stranac i da će takvim ostati, dok smo ovde domaći, premda suštinski stranci; 3) Saltenov Bambi u srži nosi beskompromisnu apologiju samoće i individualnosti koja čini poslednji stepen saznanja, a prirodno se utapa u fikcionalni svet; Kiplingov Mogli, iako izopštenik u obadva sveta i kao takav rašiveno biće, povratkom u ljudski čopor svoj identitet skrpljava. U tom smislu, se i oni čovekom zgražavajući pasaži u Kiliplinga mogu učiniti kompromizerskim, mada ožiljak-vez na detetu džungle ostaje trajno opažljiv; 4) Jasno ustrojen, neproblematizovan lanac ishrane, prema kome je karnivorima dato da vladaju - trivija je da se Mogli uglavnom hrani sirovim mesom - što u simboličkom proširenju dobacuje i do vladavine ljudi; 5)prethodno Kiplingu dozvoljava da tekstualno svesno uvuče i kolonijalističko-imperijalistički diskurs, ideološki prozračan u dosadnjikavim "Slugama njenog veličanstva", svakako primetan i u pojedinim Mogli-storijama, kroz binarnu opoziciju Britanskog i domorodačkog. (Neki stranci su poželjniji od drugih!) Zna se koje je superiorno. Kod Saltena, očito, ne javlja se nijedan od ovih problema.

"'He was very nice to me. And I like him so much. He's so wonderful and green..."

"'Can it be true,' said the first leaf, 'can it really be true, that others come to take our places when we're gone and after them still others, and more and more?'
'It is really true,' whispered the second leaf. 'We can't even begin to imagine it, it's beyond our powers.'
'It makes me very sad,' added the first lead.
They were silent for a while. Then the first leaf said quietly to herself, 'Why must we fall?'...
The second lead asked, 'What happens to us when we have fallen?'
'We sink down...'
'What is under us?'
The first leaf answers, 'I don't know, some say one thing, some another, but nobody knows.'
The second lead asked, 'Do we feel anything, do we know anything about ourselves when we're down there?'
The first leaf answered, 'Who knows? Not one of all those down there has ever come back to tell us about it.'
They were silent again. Then the first leaf said tenderly to the other, 'Don't worry so much about it, you're trembling.'
'That's nothing,' the second leaf answered, 'I tremble at the least thing now. I don't feel so sure of my hold as I used to.'
(........)
She was silent, but went on after a little while, 'Which of us will go first?'
'There's still plenty of time to worry about that,' the other lead assured her. 'Let's remember how beautiful it was, how wonderful, when the sun came out and shone so warmly that we thought we'd burst with life. Do you remember? And the morning dew, and the mild and splendid nights....'
(........)
'No, really,' the first lead exclaimed eagerly, 'believe me, you're as lovely as the day you were born. Here and there may be a little yellow spot but it's hardly noticeable and only makes you handsomer, believe me.'
'Thanks,' whispered the second leaf, quite touched. 'I don't believe you, not altogether, but I thank you because you're so kind, you've always been so kind to me. I'm just beginning to understand how kind you are.'"