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Og kongen var så veldig glad og alle var så glade
Og kokken bakte sukkerbrød og laget sjokolade
Så danset de den hele dag til kongens store velbehag
De danset både swing og hot, for det gjør en ekte hottentott
I can't believe I found this song again. When I a little girl I had this exact recording and I loved it. These days it is mostly omitted from all the collections of the songwriter, Torbjørn Egner, because of it's racial overtones: It's about a little black boy with a grass skirt in an African tribe and... yeah, you know the deal. I didn't give it much thought as a child, I just liked the melody and the drums.
I get so frustrated with every children's campaign at the book store: We always split the campaign in half with pirates for the boys and princesses for the girls. Growing up, I wasn't all keen on being a princess - how do you play princesses with your friends, anyway? - but I sure as hell wanted to grow up to be a pirate.
This might have had a little something to do with the Kaptein Sabeltann franchise, though, which was just starting up in my early years. I recall reading that they tried to sell the concept to English-speaking countries as Captain Sabertooth, but it wasn't a hit.
How odd to realize other children didn't grow up with this. So anyway, Captain Sabeltann is this fearsome pirate, and actually the antagonist of all the plays and movies (when I was sixish we visited the theme park and I met him in character. I nearly pissed myself with fear). When I grew up Red Ruben, a former seaman, was the hero who always sent Sabeltann and his crew on the run with some fairly atrocious fencing.
Those characters weren't important to me and my sister, though, we usually pretended to be the pirate crew. First there was Pinky, the young pirate who runs away and falls in love with Ruben's daughter (so in turn every girl my age had a crush on him). After a lot of bickering I had to leave the role of Pinky to my sister, though, and I became Langemann instead (on reflection I think Langemann's bitchin' coat might have had something to do with it).
And when I wasn't planning on becoming a pirate I wanted to be like Ronja the robber's daughter (of the book and movie Ronja Rövardotter, which you should absolutely see, because it's a masterpiece with lovely music), and grow my hair long and go live in the forest where I would tame wild horses to ride. If there hadn't been lots of evil mystical creatures in the forests, of course.
It was written by Swedish author Astrid Lindgren, which I've heard most non-Scandinavians know from Mio in the land of Faraway (or Mio, my Mio as I know it), which she also wrote. I only watched the movie once when I was a young 'un, because I got nightmares from the bit where everything turns to stone (though now I see Christopher Lee is the big bad, I might have to rewatch it).
She also wrote the grim The brothers Lionheart (Bröderna Lejonhjärta), which also got turned into a movie. And it freaked me out. Okay, so when you die you go to Nangijala, sort of like Heaven only you - uh-oh - might die again. Or be shot through the heart with arrows. Or branded. Oh, and there's an absolutely terrifying dragon (okay, I admit the dragon looks rubbish now that I'm older, but that scream! It's exactly as blood-curdling as I recall).
See the sort of cultural baggage you miss when you are foolish enough not to be born in Scandinavia?
There's a shameful amount of Swedish stuff here though. I should probably mention Aukrust's Pinchcliff Grand Prix (Flåklypa Grand Prix, and whoa, it's weird with English dubbing), the Christmas musical about the elf Plutti Putti Pott, equally traditional Christmas movie The journey to the Christmas star (Reisen til julestjernen) and the nightmare fuel that is Karius and Baktus (they're two trolls that lives in a boy's teeth, and so every child who goes to the dentist is greeted with "So, have you been visited by Karius and Baktus, hm?").
Og kokken bakte sukkerbrød og laget sjokolade
Så danset de den hele dag til kongens store velbehag
De danset både swing og hot, for det gjør en ekte hottentott
I can't believe I found this song again. When I a little girl I had this exact recording and I loved it. These days it is mostly omitted from all the collections of the songwriter, Torbjørn Egner, because of it's racial overtones: It's about a little black boy with a grass skirt in an African tribe and... yeah, you know the deal. I didn't give it much thought as a child, I just liked the melody and the drums.
I get so frustrated with every children's campaign at the book store: We always split the campaign in half with pirates for the boys and princesses for the girls. Growing up, I wasn't all keen on being a princess - how do you play princesses with your friends, anyway? - but I sure as hell wanted to grow up to be a pirate.
This might have had a little something to do with the Kaptein Sabeltann franchise, though, which was just starting up in my early years. I recall reading that they tried to sell the concept to English-speaking countries as Captain Sabertooth, but it wasn't a hit.
How odd to realize other children didn't grow up with this. So anyway, Captain Sabeltann is this fearsome pirate, and actually the antagonist of all the plays and movies (when I was sixish we visited the theme park and I met him in character. I nearly pissed myself with fear). When I grew up Red Ruben, a former seaman, was the hero who always sent Sabeltann and his crew on the run with some fairly atrocious fencing.
Those characters weren't important to me and my sister, though, we usually pretended to be the pirate crew. First there was Pinky, the young pirate who runs away and falls in love with Ruben's daughter (so in turn every girl my age had a crush on him). After a lot of bickering I had to leave the role of Pinky to my sister, though, and I became Langemann instead (on reflection I think Langemann's bitchin' coat might have had something to do with it).
And when I wasn't planning on becoming a pirate I wanted to be like Ronja the robber's daughter (of the book and movie Ronja Rövardotter, which you should absolutely see, because it's a masterpiece with lovely music), and grow my hair long and go live in the forest where I would tame wild horses to ride. If there hadn't been lots of evil mystical creatures in the forests, of course.It was written by Swedish author Astrid Lindgren, which I've heard most non-Scandinavians know from Mio in the land of Faraway (or Mio, my Mio as I know it), which she also wrote. I only watched the movie once when I was a young 'un, because I got nightmares from the bit where everything turns to stone (though now I see Christopher Lee is the big bad, I might have to rewatch it).
She also wrote the grim The brothers Lionheart (Bröderna Lejonhjärta), which also got turned into a movie. And it freaked me out. Okay, so when you die you go to Nangijala, sort of like Heaven only you - uh-oh - might die again. Or be shot through the heart with arrows. Or branded. Oh, and there's an absolutely terrifying dragon (okay, I admit the dragon looks rubbish now that I'm older, but that scream! It's exactly as blood-curdling as I recall).
See the sort of cultural baggage you miss when you are foolish enough not to be born in Scandinavia?
There's a shameful amount of Swedish stuff here though. I should probably mention Aukrust's Pinchcliff Grand Prix (Flåklypa Grand Prix, and whoa, it's weird with English dubbing), the Christmas musical about the elf Plutti Putti Pott, equally traditional Christmas movie The journey to the Christmas star (Reisen til julestjernen) and the nightmare fuel that is Karius and Baktus (they're two trolls that lives in a boy's teeth, and so every child who goes to the dentist is greeted with "So, have you been visited by Karius and Baktus, hm?").
