Dear Annie,
Congratulations on my award.
As for the alcoholic drinks, at the place where I am now, they are even more difficult to get.
I know quite well that I have seen you as a little girl of nine weeping over my little mermaid. I was touched. Yesterday I have spoken about you with my friends Heinrich Heine and Charles Dickens.
We agreed that you have some talent. So: Go on! Proceed! Try again!
Don't go into playwriting. I did and I failed. So stick to your silly old fairytales, like I did.
Because we are not without influence here we shall try to punish the English and American publishers, who refuse to publish your best books.
On my video - yes, we have video in the conversation-room - I shall follow the ibby congress.
But, believe me, I'll turn it off the moment when those professors start trying to convince me, that the so-called media, all those chips and clips and floppydisks and disgusting pictures, will eventually prevail over literature, or replace literature. Language is irreplaceable.
It is written in the Scripture: In the beginning was the word. And in my opinion it will stay to the end, which could however be very soon, when you people down there go on destroying your own planet.
I hope you will enjoy it, and now I mean Oslo and all that.
See you later,
Your friend H.C.A.
Annie M.G. Schmidt leest haar zoontje Flip (links) en een vriendje voor. Op de voorgrond een vloerkleedje met Dikkertje Dap.
Foto Frits Gerritsen, ± 1960.