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- Herausgeber: Pushkin Press
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
The first in the internationally bestselling series of witty, moving and philosophical animal fables for adults. 'Only one question remains: is he a writer or a genius? I suspect the latter' De Morgen 'Toon Tellegen's stories provide endless pleasure' Die Ziet 'Moving and entertaining' De Volkskrant The hedgehog is lonely. So he writes a letter, inviting the animals of the forest to visit. But before he can post it, doubts start flooding his mind... As winter draws in, can anything save the hedgehog from himself?
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Seitenzahl: 127
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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The Hedgehog’s Dilemma
TOON TELLEGEN
Translated from the Dutch by David Colmer Illustrated by Annemarie Van Haeringen
pushkinpress
Contents
1
One day in late autumn, the hedgehog was sitting by the window looking out.
He was alone. Nobody ever came to visit and if someone happened to be passing and thought, Oh, isn’t this where Hedgehog lives? and rang the bell, the hedgehog would be sure to be asleep or else he’d hesitate for so long they’d have already walked on again before he’d made it to the door.
He pressed his nose against the glass, screwed up his eyes and thought of the animals he knew, who were always constantly visiting each other, sometimes for no reason at all, never waiting for a birthday or something else to celebrate. What if I invited them here for once… he thought.
He had never invited anyone anywhere.
He opened his eyes again, scratched between the prickles on the back of his head, thought for a little longer and then wrote a letter: 8
Dear animals,
Iherebyinviteallofyoutocomeandvisitme.
Chewing his pen, he gave the back of his head another scratch, then wrote at the bottom.
But ifnobody comes, that’s okay too.
He frowned.
If they read this letter, he thought, won’t they think, The hedgehog doesn’t really want any visitors…? Or maybe, Quick, let’s go and visit right away while he still wants us to… the hedgehog’s always changing his mind…?
I can’t decide, he thought.
He put the letter in a drawer of his cupboard and shook his head. I won’t send it, he thought. Not yet.
2
Not yet. The hedgehog sat down by the window again and thought about those two words. Not and Yet.
It was like they were dancing inside his head. Not was turning circles with measured steps. Yet was looking around uncertainly.
The hedgehog closed his eyes. Now I can see them better, he thought. Not grabbed hold of Yet and Yet cuddled up to Not. They were dancing and only had eyes for each other.
But suddenly the door opened and another word came in. That’s Just, thought the hedgehog. He could tell from its coat, which was almost too small.
Just went over to Not and Yet, squeezed in between them and joined the dance. The hedgehog sighed.
After a while Just slipped away and Anytime came stomping in. It was wearing a hat and a thickly quilted winter coat, and it too pushed in between Not and Yet. 10
The hedgehog felt his heart pounding. It was like the words were dancing towards him, straight through his thoughts, and expecting something from him. As if he was supposed to do something with them. He didn’t know what.
The three words leapt up onto the table and kept dancing, faster and faster and more and more furiously. The hedgehog could hardly bear to watch and was about to close his mind’s eye and open his real ones. But suddenly Anytime disappeared.
Not and Yet climbed down from the table and stood there indecisively, looking at each other. More dancing? Not raised its eyebrows. It was willing, but Yet shook its head.
The hedgehog heard a racket outside. The door opened again and Just came back in with Once. They were in high spirits. Skipping and cooing. They both had funny red feathers in their hair.
Just and Once grabbed Not and Yet and, in the same instant, calmed down and began a stately four-person dance.
It had grown dark in the hedgehog’s room.
Yet Not Just Once,he thought, and Yet danced away for a moment, leaving Not Just Once. And Not swirled off after Yet. Just Once. Just Once.
And suddenly it was glorious the way they were dancing together, and the hedgehog thought, Dance on like that forever. Because beyond those words everything was black.
3
Games, thought the hedgehog, reopening his eyes. Get a grip. This is about visitors and that’s no game.
He lay down on his bed and thought about the letter in the cupboard drawer.
Maybe they’ll write back that they can’t come. All of them. They’ll have their reasons.
The hedgehog could already see dozens of letters blowing in under the door. He picked them up and read them one after the other:
‘If I come to visit, I want a three-storey honey cake covered with icing and with a whipped-cream fountain on top under a fondant sky, but I don’t think I can make it.’
‘I came to visit just the other day, but you didn’t open up. I looked in 12through the window just in time to see you crawling under your bed.’
‘Thanks for the invite! Come and visit! You! How lovely! I was over the moon when I read your letter! Hedgehog, visit Hedgehog… But I can’t.’
‘I think I won’t be able to come. I just don’t know the reason yet.’
‘I’ll be there in spirit.’
‘Best wishes in lieu of a visit.’
The hedgehog sighed. Of course nobody will come.
He piled the letters up on the floor next to the bed and turned onto his back, feeling relieved and sad at the same time. I am made to be lonely, he thought, just like I’m made to be prickly. If I had wings instead of prickles I wouldn’t be this lonely. I’d fly wherever I wanted to go and never be wistful about anything again.
He wanted to get some sleep but couldn’t. Maybe everyone will come after all, he thought.
He shivered, got up and made himself some tea. Two cups.
4
After drinking the tea, the hedgehog got the letter out of the drawer and read through it.
Maybe they’ll come right away, he thought. All at once. First thing tomorrow morning.
He felt a chill pass through him and put down the letter. He could already hear the animals approaching. The forest seemed to be quivering with excitement.
They were milling around in front of the door, shouting, ‘Hedgehog! We’re here! Your visitors! Thanks for the invitation! Everyone’s made it! Nobody’s missing!’
They pushed the door open and stormed in. Most of them were walking, flying or crawling, but the pike and the carp, and a little later the whale and the shark, swam in on big waves they’d brought with them for the occasion.
‘What fun, Hedgehog!’ they all cried. ‘Do you have tea? And cake?’
There were too many animals to make tea for. And 14there was only one small, slightly stale cake. The hedgehog shrugged helplessly.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ they cried, ‘we’ll just dance.’
They wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders and danced around the table, singing, ‘We’re Hedgehog’s… we’re Hedgehog’s… we’re Hedgehog’s visitors. Everyone has made it and we don’t need to eat.’
‘But aren’t you scared of me?’ the hedgehog asked, sticking his prickles up as straight as he could.
‘Not at all,’ they cried. ‘We’re way too happy to be scared.’
In no time the floor caved in under their dancing, making a hole for the mole and the worm to creep up through, calling out that they were coming to visit too. They had brought some mud pies, which stayed good for years, according to them, but could also be eaten straightaway if you preferred.
‘Who’d expected something like this?’ they all asked.
Not me, thought the hedgehog. He slipped outside and crawled into the bushes behind the house.
Soon after, the animals stopped dancing, having noticed that the hedgehog was gone.
‘Hedgehog, Hedgehog!’ they cried.
Their calls could be heard far beyond the forest and soon the camel and the termite came running in from the desert. They didn’t want to be left out. 15
‘Hedgehog, Hedgehog, Hedgehog…’ they kept shouting together.
But the hedgehog crept deeper and deeper into the bushes.
He shook his head, changed ‘all of you’ to ‘one of you’, put ‘at most’ in front of that and read the letter once again.
5
No, he thought, if I do that, they could still all come at once.
He chewed his pen and pondered. If I don’t send it, nobody will come. That’s for sure. They won’t turn up uninvited.
Deep furrows appeared on his forehead. They’re scared of me, he thought. They just don’t dare to admit it. They’re in awe of my prickles. When they get together, they tell each other that no matter what happens, they’ll never come to visit me.
‘I’ll visit anyone. But not the hedgehog.’
‘Me neither.’
‘It’s those prickles…’
‘Yes, those terrible prickles…’
‘You know what they’re for?’
‘No.’
‘To scare us off.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
The hedgehog put the letter back. 17
They’re right, he thought. I scare them off. He shuddered and for a moment his prickles swayed from side to side.
It was like there was someone running around inside his body and shaking it here and there, trying to get out. But I’m not scary at all! he thought.
The hedgehog felt like opening his door and rushing outside to stand on his toes and shout, ‘Animals! It’s me! Hedgehog! I’m really nice! I’m not scary!’
Then their eyes would be opened and they’d all call back, ‘Hedgehog! You’re right! You don’t scare anyone! You couldn’t scare us if you tried! You’re the kindest animal we know. If you invite us, we’ll all come to visit. Those prickles of yours are really no big deal…’
The hedgehog felt even deeper furrows forming between the prickles on his forehead and wrote a footnote at the bottom of the letter:
My prickles are really no big deal
He chewed his pen, thought for a long time and put the letter back in the drawer.
My prickles are a big deal, he thought. My prickles are a very big deal.
He nodded. A bigger deal than me.
6
Maybe animals are visiting each other everywhere right this moment, he thought a little later. Maybe they’re asking each other, ‘By the way, are you perhaps by any chance going to visit the hedgehog sometime soon?’
‘No – you?’
‘No, me neither. I haven’t been invited.’
‘Me neither.’
‘It’s a shame, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, a great shame.’
‘If he invited me, I’d go.’
‘Me too.’
‘It’s up to him.’
‘Yes. If he doesn’t invite us, we won’t invite him either.’
‘No, we won’t.’
They shrug. Now. Right this moment. Everywhere in the forest. At sea. In the desert. Behind the clouds. Everyone visiting everyone else. Except me. They’re all dancing with 19each other and talking about me and shrugging.
He felt himself growing very sad and went outside to listen if he could hear the hubbub of any parties anywhere.
But it was quiet in the forest. Very far away he heard the elephant falling out of a tree and a little closer he heard the frog trying to croak out a few notes she couldn’t quite reach.
Then he thought, Maybe all that visiting has come to an end; maybe it’s no longer allowed.
He imagined enormous signs with:
as of now,
visiting strictly prohibited
and
as of now,
receiving visitors strictly prohibited
written on them.
Maybe nobody will go to visit anybody else ever again and they’ll only write each other letters, but less and less often and shorter and shorter too:
Hi Hedgehog,
That’s all.
and: 20
Dear Fly,
I
and nothing else.
Then he wouldn’t need to invite anyone after all.
He pricked up his ears. He thought he could hear distant, very sad sighs coming from all directions, because there was nothing the animals liked more than visiting each other and writing letters.
But rules are rules.
What shall I do? he thought. He got the letter out of the drawer, read it twice, looked down at his toes, thought about it and put it back again.
I don’t know, he thought.
7
The hedgehog stood in front of his cupboard, thought about the letter and shook his head. But immediately afterwards he changed his mind, nodded, shook his head again and nodded once more.
Sometimes he did that a hundred times a day. There’s nothing my mind likes more than changing, he thought. And me? There’s nothing I can do about it. I’m at its mercy.
He gave a little cough, straightened his back and thought about animals he knew well who would be sure to come to visit if he invited them.
The longhorn beetle, for instance… He scratched the back of his head.
No, he thought, I’m wrong, he definitely wouldn’t come. My invitation would annoy him. Yet another animal who wants something from him. He’d write a letter in reply: 22
Dear Hedgehog,
Iwon’tcometovisityou.
You’re bound to want me to do something for you.
You’ll want skin without prickles.
Or two horns on your head. (Who wouldn’t want two horns on their head?)
Ortoneverrustleagain.
Ortobeabletosing.
Or all that at once.
Why don’t you just stay like you are?
Lonely, unsure about everything, a little sad, but also slightlyhappy?
Whydon’t you just make up animals that come to visit – talkto them, dance with them, have them tell you how nice you are, much nicer than they thought?
longhorn
That’s what he’d write, thought the hedgehog.
He nodded again and wrote a letter back to the longhorn:
Dear Longhorn,
Thankyouverymuchforyourletter.
You’reright,Iwantallofthat.
I’ll make up visitors and stay just the way I am.
hedgehog
23He wrote this letter no less than ten times, and every time he left something out, until there was nothing left of it at all.
It doesn’t matter, he thought. The longhorn beetle won’t come anyway. He’s the only one who definitely won’t.
But he wanted the longhorn beetle to be the only one who did come. Then he – the hedgehog – wouldn’t ask him anything and they’d drink a cup of tea without talking, just nodding at each other, and after they’d finished, the longhorn beetle would go back home again.
