There they are again, the wondrous creatures of Albert Wendt’s imagination and pen. Now they cavort in the “Stories under a wide sky”: Princess Tenderfoot, Stumbling Rooster, Little Egg Fowl, Little Kunze, Princess Quail Egg, Vogelkopp, Betti Chainmail next to Partridge Tek-Tek and Black Garbage Can and of course Lavender, the tender-winged steamroller .
But there is also someone in “Tales under a wide sky” who is new to the ranks of people-friendly fairy tale creatures: the dwarf dragon Hipp
In fact, they never went away. Just pushed to the edge of memory because so many terrible things are happening on this planet. And that’s why it’s not only comforting, but downright essential for survival that they jump out of the book pages and flutter and stomp and hiss, do their practical jokes – and take children by the hand in a friendly way. Over the past forty years, they have always crossed the paths of those who like to immerse themselves in radio plays or in the magical world of theater or who simply disappear into a children’s book to find hope. The Vogelkopp, for example, a lumberjack who hides a bird’s nest under his cap and courageously resists any presumption, made his first appearance in a radio play on East German radio in 1984 before he made his way through the world. The Stumbling Rooster entered the stage as early as October 1981, Princess Zartfuss in 1984 and Betti Chain Mail in 2001. And many of the creatures were later found in the book as well.
But there is also someone in “Tales under a wide sky” who is new to the ranks of people-friendly fairy tale creatures: the dwarf dragon Hipp. His real name is “Hyppolitos with the scent of a dewy horse pasture strongly mixed with wormwood, son of a mother dragon smelling of butter crumble”. The name would be a bit tongue-twisting for the girl Marianna, whom he has just put into the open hand. That’s why the two agree on “Hipp and Ann” – and that’s the name of the story. Hipp lives in the branches of an ancient summer linden tree, which looks pretty familiar to forest and meadow enthusiasts. Just think of the mistletoe nests in the tops of old trees – ideal homes for pygmy dragons. Hipp’s primary purpose in life also meets with the greatest goodwill from those who find a smartphone anathema that seems to have grown on the hand of a young person. A kite like Hipp only flies into the free, open hand of a very specific child. From there, however, it can work wonders that make any phone pale in comparison. Ann is extremely lucky there, even if she is sitting in the branches of that large-leaved lime and sulking. Because dear grandfather trampled on the thing out of anger. So Ann’s hand is free against her will and – hey presto – Hipp takes a seat there. With unexpected consequences.
The thought excursions of the word magician Wendt meander in arcs and squiggles through landscapes and ways of life – between fantastic reality and real fantasy. Like the path that lavender rolled from the front door to the storyteller’s garden pump. On this labyrinthine path, thoughts fly through your head that you would have completely missed. For example, the realization that it’s more important to iron dents and dents out of rainbows than to iron shirts. And who could do that better than a tender-winged steamroller or a dwarf dragon whose mother dragon smells of butter crumble?