The Tale of Peter Rabbit
Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Peter Rabbit
4.23from 262,967 ratingson Goodreads
Mrs Rabbit tells her four children they may go anywhere except Mr McGregor's garden, where their father had an accident and ended up in a pie. Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton-tail pick blackberries. Peter goes straight under the gate, and loses his jacket, both shoes and very nearly the rest.
About the book
Written in 1893 as a picture letter to a sick five-year-old and published commercially in 1902 after the author printed it herself, The Tale of Peter Rabbit is a few hundred words long. Mrs Rabbit leaves her four children with one instruction — anywhere but Mr McGregor’s garden, where their father was made into a pie. Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton-tail go down the lane for blackberries. Peter goes under the gate, eats until he feels ill, is seen, and loses his jacket and both shoes getting out. Beatrix Potter designed the book as much as she wrote it: small enough for a child to hold, one picture facing each short page of text, and no moralising at the end beyond camomile tea and bed. It has never been out of print, and it is the beginning of the modern picture book.
Characters
Peter Rabbit — Protagonist
Disobedient, greedy and quick, and the only one of the four who does not come home in one piece.
Mrs Rabbit — Mother
A widowed rabbit who sells rosemary and rabbit-tobacco, and gives one clear instruction before leaving.
Mr McGregor — Antagonist
The gardener, who pursues Peter with a rake and hangs his jacket up as a scarecrow.
Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton-tail — Sisters
Peter’s good little sisters, who go down the lane for blackberries and get bread and milk for it.
The sparrows — Bystanders
Birds who implore Peter, caught in a gooseberry net, to exert himself rather than give up.
About the author
Beatrix Potter (1866–1943) was an English author, illustrator and naturalist. The Tale of Peter Rabbit began as a picture letter to the sick five-year-old son of her former governess, and after every publisher turned it down she printed it herself, small enough for a child's hands. She was also a serious mycologist whose paper on the germination of lichen spores had to be read to the Linnean Society by a man, women not being admitted. She spent what her books earned on Lake District farmland, bred Herdwick sheep, and left more than four thousand acres to the National Trust.