The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles

“Nobody looks at chimneys, or trees against the sky, or the tops of buildings. Everybody just looks down at the pavement or their shoes. The whole world could pass them by and most people wouldn’t notice.”

Savant juxtaposes looking up with looking down. The former represents imagination: People who look up can see the world and all that it includes. People who look down miss out on the world. Savant teaches the children to look, which helps them see an entirely new world: Whangdoodleland.

“It says—‘noun, slang: a fanciful creature of undefined nature.’”

Tom looks up “Whangdoodle” in his father’s dictionary and announces the definition, which introduces a subtle form of irony. The Whangdoodle is “fanciful” and “undefined,” yet those qualities don’t preclude the Whangdoodle from existing. Things, people, and creatures can be imaginative and uncategorizable without being false. Indeed, part of the novel’s stance on The Value of Developing and Maintaining Imagination is that flights of fancy routinely bring things into existence.

“You see, I’m a bit scared about tonight. I want to keep my dare and win the twenty-five cents. But I was wondering…would you please stay very near when I go up to Stone House? And if I scream or faint or anything will you come and save me?”

As the oldest sibling, Ben is often the most mature and rational, so Lindy can confide in him about her fear of knocking on the Stone House door. The exchange suggests that the support of others is key in Confronting and Overcoming Fear: Ben and Tom will “stay very near,” giving Lindy the boost she needs to fulfill the dare and knock on the door of the allegedly haunted house.

“‘I always thought life had to do with G.O.D.’ 

‘I’m sure it does have a lot to do with G.O.D. Believe me, I think about Him a great deal too. But, however life began—and some scientists say it was by an incredible accident, and some say it was by God’s design—we do have the unique privilege of being on this earth right now, and that’s something we shouldn’t take lightly.’”

The dialogue between Lindy and Savant alludes to debates between science and religion on the origins of life. Savant’s response sidesteps the question, suggesting that there is wonder to be found in life either way—a stance in keeping with the work’s emphasis on imagination.

“The more knowledge man gained, the more self-conscious he became about believing in fanciful creatures. People began to think that such things as dragons, goblins and gremlins didn’t exist. The terrible thing is that when man dismissed all the fanciful creatures from his mind, the Whangdoodles disappeared along with them.”

Savant’s narrative provides another interpretation of the link between imagination and knowledge. Here, knowledge works against imagination. The more a person knows, the less they believe in “fanciful creatures.” However, Savant ultimately suggests that this results from a limited conception of what knowledge is. In his lessons with the Potter children, Savant ties imagination to knowledge, showing how the former contributes to the latter.

“Because you weren’t looking. There aren’t many people in this world who really know how to look. Usually one glance is enough to register that grass is green and the sky is blue and so on. They can tell you if the sun is shining or if it looks like rain, but that’s about all. It’s such a pity, for there is texture to everything we see.”

The motif of the five senses supports themes of both imagination and of Embracing Knowledge and Hard Work. According to Savant, looking requires concentration: To truly observe something, one must study it and explore its “texture.” By looking carefully, the children build their imagination and prepare for their Whangdoodleland journey.

“It soon became apparent that not only was the professor’s bike dangerous to ride, but the professor was a definite road hazard. He had a strong tendency to aim his bike at an object—a tree, a car, a pedestrian—and only at the last second would he swerve to avoid it.”

The image of the professor on his bicycle is comedic thanks to the physical comedy of Savant constantly almost hitting cars, people, and trees. At the same time, the passage serves a serious purpose by underscoring Savant’s emphasis on looking. Presumably, he’s too busy observing the textures of the world to pay attention to practical matters.

“A scrappy cap is a covering worn on the head, which is sympathetic to the brain’s impulses and desires.”

Savant’s definition of a scrappy cap reflects its symbolism. The headwear makes tangible the brain’s abstract “impulses and desires.” When the children wear the caps, they have material proof of their developed, refined minds and imaginations. As the name indicates, a cultivated imagination and mind make the children resourceful and “scrappy.”

“The Whiffle Bird shrieked at the top of her voice, ‘STAND AND DELIVER!’”

The Whiffle Bird is an ally and regularly alerts Savant and the children of danger. She often tells them how to survive the threat as well, though her advice requires listening. When the Sidewinders beset the group, Whiffle Bird tells them to “stand and deliver,” which Savant correctly interprets to mean that they should stay still and let them pass. Throughout the text, the Whiffle Bird speaks entirely in capitals, highlighting her urgency.

“Now, the best remedy for a bad scare is to turn right around and face whatever frightened you. So are you game for another attempt tomorrow?”

Savant adds another layer to the theme of fear. As with developing one’s imagination, facing trepidation requires hard work and persistence. The children were scared by the Sidewinders, so they must go back to Whangdoodleland and confront them or whatever other hardship arises.

“‘Why did the lobster blush?’ yelled Ben. 

‘Because he saw the salad dressing!’ everyone yelled back.”

To power the royal boat, Savant and the children must tell jokes, which allows for a sustained comedic scene. It also reflects the personality of the Whangdoodle. The king of Whangdoodleland is playful and jovial, so his characterization aligns with his vessel.

“That fellow’ssss a bully, I mussst say. I sssaid to mysssself, if ever I meet that charming girrrl, ‘m going to apologizzze for his rrrrude behavior.”

Like the Whiffle Bird, the Splintercat has a distinct way of speaking, emphasizing “s” and “r” sounds. The sounds link the cat to hisses and growls, hinting that he’s a threatening creature. The Splintercat pretends he’s on Lindy’s side by flattering her and disparaging the Prock. Yet the Splintercat is an antagonist, working for the Prock.

“Apparently, late last night, Lindy received a visit from a creature called the High-Behind Splintercat, a devastating animal; seductive and as smooth-talking as you please.”

Andrews occasionally uses alliteration, placing words with the same first letter or sound near one another. The Splintercat is “seductive” and “smooth”—words that echo the “s” sounds that characterize his own speech and thus reinforce his characterization.

“Let’s use our heads and work this out. The Splintercat is probably just like any other mountain cat. He would need a rocky terrain, with trees—perhaps a cave or two. Those mountains to the west have a forest, but it looks a bit dense. Too dark and gloomy for a Splintercat.”

Savant uses both knowledge and imagination to make an educated guess about where the Splintercat lives. He imagines where a Splintercat would make his home and then uses reasoning to zero in on the most feasible possibility. By merging thought and imagination, Savant helps rescue Lindy, showing how the two can work in tandem to produce worthwhile results.

“‘Don’t you talk to me,’ she snapped. ‘You false friend. If I had my way, you’d lose all the rest of your eight lives—right now.’”

Lindy is the youngest child and openly expresses her fears and emotions, yet she’s not a victim, nor does she lack agency. Embracing a cutting tone, Lindy “snaps” at the deceptive Splintercat and calls him a “false friend.” As the adventure’s scope grows, Lindy grows too, learning how to function on her own.

“It’s a Fruit-of-the-Month Tree […] My first trip to Whangdoodleland, the trees were growing Tangerangos. A few months ago it was Passionanas.”

The name of the tree produces comedic irony, with the twist being that Whangdoodleland, though quite fantastical, is not all that different from contemporary America, where monthly subscription services are common. The outlandish names of the fruit add to the humor.

“If I had eleven toes

I would use one for a nose,

Which I haven’t got

Because it’s much too hot.”

Andrews became famous for her acting and singing, and the novel features many songs. When the group encounters the Oinck, he subjects them to many nonsensical songs. The songs link the text to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and other fantasy novels, where similarly confounding songs appear. The perplexing lyrics add to the humor and showcase the characterization of Savant and the children: They don’t waste much time trying to decipher Oinck’s unreasonable words, proving their practicality.

“Mind your manners. Listen to Mommy. Listen to Mommy.”

The Swamp Gaboons are antagonists, using insults to distract the group from reaching the Whangdoodle. Part of what makes their insults hard to ignore is repetition and alliteration. They sound melodious, and they say the same things again and again. As with the Oinck, the Swamp Gaboons allow Savant and the children to demonstrate their training. They have the wisdom not to fall for the Swamp Gaboons’ traps.

“[T]he closer we have come to the Whangdoodle, the harder it has been for me to keep up with you. This last part of our journey has been almost impossible for me.”

As the group nears the Whangdoodle and his palace, Savant feels like he’s unable to continue. As he loses faith in his imagination, he doubts himself. Savant doesn’t feel like he can make the effort anymore, so the children must leave him behind, proving that they have internalized his lessons sufficiently to function without him.

“‘Oh, you human beings,’ he said with feeling. ‘When will I ever learn?’ He rubbed Lindy’s cheek with the sleeve of his sweater. ‘Come along. I can

see there’s only one way to get any peace around here, and that’s to let you meet the Whangdoodle.’”

With Savant gone for the moment, the Prock goes from antagonist to ally. He becomes the children’s champion and helps them meet the Whangdoodle. The change indicates that the Prock isn’t a true adversary. He has feelings and was only trying to keep Savant and the children away to maintain “peace” in Whangdoodleland.

“‘But I don’t see it.’ 

‘Then don’t look. Keep your eyes on me. Hold my hand and don’t look down, whatever you do.’”

The dialogue between Lindy and Savant develops the motif of the five senses. Savant can’t see the bridge, but he has other senses he can rely on. He can touch and feel Lindy’s hand, and she can help him across the bridge. Moreover, he can still see Lindy, so he can look at her. The scene symbolically suggests the role that other people can play when one’s own imagination or faith flags; sometimes, people might not see what they want to see, but they can see something else that’s helpful.

“‘[T]hose hats mean nothing. They’re not magic at all.’ 

‘They’re not?’ 

‘Of course not. They are just a device…something for the children to believe in…to help them bridge the gap.’ 

The Prock gave a small smile. ‘Well, they obviously work very well for them. I wouldn’t underestimate those hats if I were you.’”

The dialogue between the Prock and Savant cements the symbolism behind the scrappy caps. Savant claims they’re not “magic,” but they were never “magic” in the first place. The children earned their scrappy caps because of their hard work. The scrappy caps don’t give them a powerful imagination: They reflect the imagination they have already cultivated. When Savant puts on the scrappy cap, he remembers his robust intellect.

“The little Whangdoodle looked at the King and murmured, ‘Umbledumbledum.’”

The bit of dialogue from Clarity adds further humor to the story, as it seems to be a nonsense word. Andrews then adds a twist by claiming the term has meaning and that it’s a “term of endearment” among Whangdoodles (265). As with other creatures, Whangdoodles have their own idioms, but the twist also underscores the importance of not dismissing things that seem fanciful out of hand.