We were wandering through paths lined with exotic trees and shrubs, enjoying the greenery after spending time exploring the arid isles of Greece, when we happened upon a little pond full of little turtles.
I've seen turtles before. Turtles in ponds, in aquariums, in zoos. I, in fact, lived with a turtle in my house for some time -- thanks to a son's passion. Indeed, I have snorkeled among big turtles in the sea and tiptoed around them on the beach.
But these weren't any old turtles. These were Yertle turtles.
Perhaps you've read Dr. Seuss' charming story about Yertle the Turtle. Surely you haven't read it as many times as I have, but perhaps you've read it. It was a family favorite, as were many of Dr. Seuss' wonderful tales -- stories that brought rhyme, rhythm, and creative use of words together with humor, art and often even a thought-provoking message. Moral even, dare I say.
I had thought all along that Dr. Seuss had just made up the part about the turtle who used other turtles to get advantage. But now I think he somehow, somewhere, saw what we saw in this little pond and it spawned the story of the ambitious Yertle and his fatal flaw.
Yertle was king of the pond. But that's wasn't enough. He wanted to rise higher and be king of the house and the mule, which only drove him to want to be king of the trees and butterflies, bees and air. As the other turtles followed his command and piled one on top of the other so he could rise even higher, they became uncomfortable, then fearful, then miserable. It was a little turtle at the bottom of the stack -- with the name of Mack -- due to all the rhyming possibilities -- that eventually brought Yertle down. With a burp. Yes."And today the great Yertle, that Marvelous he,
Is King of the Mud. That is all he can see.
And the turtles, of course...all the turtles are free
As turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be." -- Dr. Seuss
Ah, the beauty of words. Ah, the beauty of truth.
But the little turtles in the little pond in the National Garden in Athens hadn't figured it out.
We watched for a while as they pushed and piled, putting their little clawed paws in each other's faces to force their neighbor down so they could attain a greater height or more sunshine, climbing up for a precarious moment, only to slide off someone's slippery back and into the water.
Only Dr. Seuss could show us a flaw in human nature by looking at turtle nature. Dr. Seuss, who taught us with stories of elephants and Sneetches, Grinches and "pale green pants with nobody inside them."
Too bad turtles can't read.
It would do them good.
