Curious George may never have even seen the light of day but for the determination and courage of his creators. The Reys had been living in Paris for four years and, on June 14, 1940 – mere hours before the Nazis marched into Paris – they fled on bicycles (so beloved to George) carrying only some warm clothes, food, and some old drawings for their children’s stories, including one about a certain mischievous monkey.
Due to the shortage of anything on wheels, as Parisians by the thousands were fleeing the advancing German army, Hans had to assemble the escape bikes himself from spare parts. The Reys rode their bikes for four days until they reached the border with Spain, where they sold the bikes to customs officials and used the proceeds to purchase train fare to Lisbon, from where they sailed back to Brazil. But the trip was not without its close calls.
Not only were the Reys able to save George, but he actually saved them – twice. First, just prior to fleeing France, they were arrested as suspected spies by the French police. During their interrogation, an officer came across their Curious George manuscript and, attempting to find evidence in the book that would confirm them as spies, instead found himself enchanted by the story of the little monkey. Reasoning that the authors of such an innocent children’s book could not possibly be spies, he released them, and Hans and Margret were able – barely – to escape the Nazi invasion.
The Reys effected a similar narrow escape when a guard boarded the train at the Spanish border, pulled them aside, and demanded to see the contents of their satchel. No doubt expecting to find stolen documents or smuggled contraband, he found the drawings of a delightful little monkey.
“My children would love this,” he said, before permitting them to continue on their way. These events may explain why “being on the run” and “saving the day after a narrow escape from danger” became a template for most the Curious George stories.
After their fateful escape from Paris and a four-month journey, the couple finally reached New York in October 1940, where they used the rescued drawings of George to establish their profession as artists and so to qualify for an American visa. They became American citizens on April 8, 1946.
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The Reys’ American publisher, Houghton Mifflin, was dubious about calling a mischievous male monkey “Fifi,” so the name was changed to George by their editor, Grace Hogarth. However, this name, too, became problematic when the book was distributed in Great Britain, where the reigning sovereign was also named George (King George VI). Since it was deemed unduly irreverent, if not outright disrespectful, to call a fictional monkey by the same name as a sitting British monarch, George became “Zozo” in Britain when the first British edition was published in London (1942). It’s interesting to note that George is called by various other names throughout the world, including Coco (Germany), Peter Pedal (Denmark), and Choni Ha-Sakran (Israel).
In the early 1940s, most children’s books were created by women, and the publishers believed that releasing the Curious George books under Hans’s name alone would help promote the books and increase sales. After the striking success of the early Curious George books, however, Margret’s name was added and the books began publication under both their names.
While there is no literal Jewish content in the Reys’ work, Jewish significance may nevertheless be found in the Curious George stories. George strives and ultimately prevails against adversity, much as the Reys struggle and ultimately triumph against the Nazis. The Man with the Yellow Hat, who remains mysterious and anonymous, turns George into a refugee when he violently removes George from his home in the African Jungle, where he had spent his days happily swinging on vines with the other monkeys and eating bananas.
