This book makes me feel old, and as if I have lost all my imagination. I can't help it - it's all just so wrong! I absolutely cannot turn off my environmentalist self, which says both that establishing a colony of penguins in the Arctic could wreak untold ecological damage and that making said penguins perform in music halls is not a kind or appropriate way to treat them.

I have the feeling that this story is from the same era as that monstrous little book Curious George, and while the penguins at least have some funny moments - proving that I've not lost all sense of amusement - I'm still shaking my head at this piece of juvenile what-the-fuckery.