Depression and bad friend advice in The Pout-Pout Fish

One of the perennial favorites with my kids over the course of their toddlerhoods has been The Pout-Pout Fish written by Deborah Diesen and illustrated by Dan Hanna. It’s a cute story in rhyming couplets about Mr. Fish, who’s always down in the dumps: He’s a pout pout fish with a pout pout face, so he spreads the dreary wearies all over the place!

Poor pout pout fish. Mr. Fish goes about his day and encounters his friends, who have nothing better to say than to admonish him and tell him, essentially, to, “Be happy” and “Smile more.” He’s bringing everyone else down with that frown of his!

What Mr. Fish needs is a little emotional support, a little therapy, maybe even a prescription for SSRIs. What does he have instead? Self-centered sea neighbors with outsized expectations.

No doubt Mr. Fish has clinical depression, and his “friends,” instead of helping or acting with any shred of compassion or understanding, have to go make the situation entirely about themselves. Like it’s Mr. Fish’s job to make sure everyone’s happy! How bout your cultivate a little resilience, Mr. Clam? Hey, Mr. Eight, my chum, how bout you use those great octopus arms to give your buddy a hug?

The scenario raises questions about the other interactions Mr. Fish has with these creatures. Maybe they do have some fun times together: neighborhood BBQs, happy hours, movie nights. But when things get tough, I wouldn’t be surprised if these fair-weather friends cut-and-run. With friends like that, he is, to use the book’s phrase, “destined to be glum!”

Then there’s this shiny purple stranger who comes along and lands a smooch right on Mr. Fish’s pout. This raises his spirits and brings him to realize that he’s all about kisses. All he needs is love. I’m glad he doesn’t feel put-upon by this random smoocher, but the optics of this non-consentual interaction? I’m not touching that with a ten-foot fishing rod.