When I was a wee lad my parents read books to me in the evenings to help me get to sleep. At some point I settled on a favorite, “The Dragon Who Liked to Spit Fire,” with story and illustrations by Judy Varga. For whatever reason, I insisted that my dad read this particular book to me, not my mom. My poor old man! I can imagine him suggesting it was mom’s turn to read to me and me having none of it. He was probably more expressive and had more fun with it, which would have made it more fun for me. I have no idea. I just remember that I insisted my dad read it to me practically every night for months on end. It’s a classic tear-jerker tale: Prince Frederic and Darius the dragon fall in love and the prince invites the lonely fire spitter to live in his castle with the understanding there is to be no fire spitting when people can see him. Darius is believed to be a dog, lavished with sweets and attention and even given a medal by the king. All is fine until Darius’ will cracks, his favorite pastime starts a number of domestic blazes, he’s outed as a dragon and the king banishes him forever. One day little Frederic’s life is put in peril when the hunters his father has brought on a hunt can’t save him from a charging wild boar. Watchful Darius rushes in from behind some trees, wards off the boar with some spectacular flames and then humbles himself to the king, waiting for his punishment. The king relents, however, and gives Darius his own medal for saving his son and invites the gentle dragon back to the castle to pal around with the prince and provide fireworks entertainment for all and sundry. 

As far as I know this is the only one of my childhood books that I still have. It’s been at the bottom of my sock drawer everywhere I’ve lived since I left home to go to college way back when. Everything about the story and the illustrations was special to me when I was a child and I still enjoy revisiting the book from time to time. Even though I cherished the book growing up, I haven’t given it the best of treatment through the years. The cover is dog eared. There are splatters of white paint on the back cover. There is crayon scribbling on some of the pages. There are sections where some of the text and picture have been peeled off the page because something was spilled on the book while it was left open. There is one page missing that I believe was just an illustration with some afterword acknowledgements. Finally, there is a nasty stain that is probably from hot chocolate. The morals about friendship, trust, compassion, forgiveness, compromise and being open to trying to understand “the other” are still intact, though, and still resonate with me. There are also some examples of humor and class awareness thrown in. Thinking him a dog, the gentlemen of the court taught Darius to fetch a golden ball and the ladies of the court made him sweets “with their own lily-white hands.” My character was shaped by this simple tale as much as it was by the thousands and thousands of other bits of trivial input I received growing up.

I showed the book to Julia a few years ago and she agreed with me that she thought the art work was cool. She did some digging online and found examples of Judy Varga’s work for other children’s books. She also discovered Judy had worked for the anti-Nazi underground as a young lady in Hungary during Hitler’s rise to power! Julia even found a reasonably priced comic from 1946 that includes Ms. Varga’s story in comic book form. I had never heard of “Polly Pigtails - The Magazine for Girls,” but I think it’s the cat’s pajamas! It’s chock full of stories, comics, how-to articles about arts and crafts and the like, career advice, “fashions for pigtailers,” testimonials, and input from readers geared toward self-aware young women. There were a few males involved with the magazine, but most of the staff was female: Editor, Sallie Sewell; fashion editor, Edith Austin; comics art editor, Dorothea Filosa; movie editor, Regina Kohrman; et al.  

Judy Varga led quite an interesting life and might still be alive. I have not been able to find an obit. She was a young art student in Budapest in 1936 when Hitler was becoming more and more powerful. She did not like the Nazis and joined an underground resistance organization. In 1939, when martial law was proclaimed in Hungary, she left her native country and ended up in Canada where she was able to continue her art studies without having to deal directly with Nazis. She worked on poster art for Canada’s WWII war efforts, but her heart was in creating art work for children’s books. She took a job as art editor at a New York publisher known as Merry-Day House at some point, and there began her career doing children’s books. She has produced quite a few good ones, if the reviews are to be trusted, though I have not yet sought any others out. I’ve looked for biographical information, but have had little luck. I’m not alone; a quote from Hazel Terry’s Art Room Plant blog sums things up rather well for me as well, “I have been searching the internet for some biographical information but it is surprisingly lacking for such a prolific and successful illustrator.”

I stumbled upon a Judi Varga with 13 Art Department credits on IMDb, who has also used the name Judy Varga, and worked as a scenic artist or scenic painter on an eclectic array of movies and television series. I was excited at first, but since the listings go up through 2017, and our Judy Varga could not have been born much later than 1920, it is very unlikely this is the same person. If anyone has any information about the Judy Varga that did the extraordinary children’s books, the good folks at Devine Fancy would love to hear from you!

References:

Artist from the underground (1946, November). Polly Pigtails: The 

        Magazine for Girls, No. 10, 18-23.

Terry, H. (2017, February 15). Judy Varga I. The Art Room Plant.

        http://theartroomplant.blogspot.com/2017/02/judy-varga-i.html

Edwin Letcher

August 30, 2020