[Fred Koch] was enamored enough of the German way of life and thinking that he employed a German governess for his first two sons, Freddie and Charles. At the time, Freddie was a small boy, and Charles still in diapers. The nanny's iron rule terrified the little boys, according to a family acquaintance. In addition to being overbearing, she was a fervent Nazi sympathizer, who frequently touted Hitler's virtues. Dressed in a starched white uniform and pointed nurse's hat, she arrived with a stash of gruesome German children's books, including the Victorian classic Der Struwwelpeter, that featured sadistic consequences for misbehavior ranging from cutting off one child's thumbs to burning another to death. The acquaintance recalled that the nurse had a commensurately harsh and dictatorial approach to child rearing. She enforced a rigid toilet-training regimen requiring the boys to produce morning bowel movements precisely on schedule or be force-fed castor oil and subjected to enemas. [...]
It wasn't until 1940, the year the twins were born, when Freddie was seven and Charles five, that back in Wichita the German governess finally left the Koch family, apparently at her own initiative. Her reason for giving notice was that she was so overcome with joy when Hitler invaded France she felt she had to go back to the fatherland in order to join the führer in celebration.
Previously, previously, previously, previously, previously, previously.
Ok, as someone also raised on Der Struwwelpeter (albeit in the 80s), I gotta say the characterization of “gruesome” is probably accurate but it does feel somewhat harsh.
Hey, before Disney waters 'em down, ALL faerie tales and folklore kinda resemble a giallo film.
It's why Roald Dahl started of Revolting Rhymes by saying this about Cinderella:
...and so it goes. Thankfully, this one's free of any (noticeable) instance of Dahl being anti-Semitic.