Of course, authority figure or not, the fish is still a goddamn fish. He can preach all he wants, but can't ultimately force the kids to do anything. So the Cat's shenanigans are allowed to continue, but then it turns out the fish had a pretty good point -- the house does get totally effed up. These dumb kids may as well have invited Led Zeppelin to crash there.

Random House
We'll skip over whatever gross conclusions one could draw from kids playing with their "Things."

But then, in stark contrast to all those children's stories where bad decision-making and irresponsibility are punished, the Cat simply shows up with a magic-cleaning machine and fixes everything. By the time the mom comes home, there's no evidence that the children were indulging in any sinful pleasures. Yay! Nothing matters and we are alone in a cold, indifferent universe!

Random House

Random House
Then the mom realizes there was a gas leak in the house and their kids were tripping balls.

The final passage of the book asks, "Should we tell her about it? Now, what SHOULD we do? Well ... What would YOU do if your mother asked you?" The implication here is that the rules and moral guidelines handed down by society are meaningless. A goldfish can't stop you from doing a bunch of crazy shit. If no one is watching over us, then you are the ultimate arbiter of how or if you're to be judged. Basically: You need to find your own moral code to navigate life. Dr. Seuss was more like Omar from The Wire than we thought.

This means that the dad is actually pretty old to have such a young kid -- so mortality is a concept this boy is going to have to deal with at some point soon. We also see some visual foreshadowing of the snowman's death when he lies down in the coffin-like freezer:

Random House Books for Young Readers
This metaphor is confusing us, because Dracula too was pretty immortal when he slept in his coffin.

Of course, Briggs' message of learning to cope with loss probably didn't get through to most people. This includes the ones who made the TV sequel where the Snowman comes back to life, not to mention the video-game adaptation in which the little boy builds a snow golem while simultaneously battling anthropomorphic piss droplets.

Mat Howlett/YouTube

Mat Howlett/YouTube
To be fair, nothing says "Christmas" more than piss and snow.

Despite the fact that it's pretty goddamn crazy that there's a talking bear in a duffle coat, most people react to Paddington not with amazement, but with prejudice. Like the cab driver who charges extra for bears:

HarperCollins
"Nothing personal, I just hate brown people."

Even Paddington's adoptive family try have him fit their mold rather than learn about his culture. Instead of taking a few minutes to learn his Peruvian name, they literally give him the first "English one" they see: the name of the goddamn train station they're all standing in.

HarperCollins
This is set in a reality where bears can talk, and Spanish is a dead language.

It's pretty clear that Paddington's story is meant to represent the immigrant experience in England -- but it's likely an even more specific commentary than one might realize. The location of Paddington Station was one of the means by which a large influx of West Indian immigrants entered Britain in the 50s. The racial tension bubbled up into the brutal Notting Hill race riot in 1958 (not to be confused with the Notting Hill riots from 1999, when people demanded Hugh Grant's head). Incidentally, 1958 is the same year the first Paddington book was published.

The recent movie adaptation didn't ignore this context, incorporating calypso music in the soundtrack as a reference to the Notting Hill immigrant culture. Even Paddington's distinctive suitcase and "Please Look After this Bear" tag aren't totally apolitical -- they were inspired by the author's memories of children being evacuated during WWII, standing in a train station with "a label round their neck with their name and address on and a little case or package containing all their treasured possessions." So, yep, Paddington is a refugee.

HarperCollins
Today's refugees aren't such big fans of red hats.

If all that wasn't enough, one of Paddington's best friends is an actual Hungarian refugee who escaped Hitler. This all means that Paddington becoming a symbol for immigration reform isn't as inexplicable and random as we once thought.

thefword.org.uk
Much like how Harry Potter has become a symbol for not leaving babies on the doorsteps of jackass families.

Anyway, the language of the book makes it clear that Corduroy is dazzled by the opulence:

Viking Books for Young Readers
"That man mopping diarrhea from the bathroom floor must be the king!"

Corduroy thinks he finds the button, AKA the one material object he believes will give him fulfillment -- but it's sewn onto a mattress. Meaning that the happiness provided by the hollow pursuit of wealth is merely illusory. Corduroy was basically Mad Men, but featuring an adorable bear with (hopefully) fewer vices.

Viking Books for Young Readers
Alternate lesson: Never leave home without a pocket knife, kids.

Because Corduroy doesn't belong in the "palace" of the upper classes, he's then escorted out by the night watchmen. It's worth noting that he looks just like a cop:

Viking Books for Young Readers
Ironically, the bail is set at "one overalls button."

Eventually, Corduroy is bought by an African-American girl, which itself was rare for the time. She takes him back to her family's apartment, and the narrator specifically mentions that the place "looks like complete shit" (okay, we're paraphrasing here) compared to the luxurious illusion Corduroy had sought earlier. And yet, it makes him happy.

Viking Books for Young Readers
The blanket appears to be stitched together from several restaurant napkins.

While the author wouldn't admit that he wrote Corduroy was leftist propaganda, he did go on the record as saying that he "wanted the story to show the vast difference between the luxury of a department store [and] the simple life [most people live]." That's a more delicate way of putting it than "BURN CAPITALISM," we guess.

Three male trains explain (trainsplain?) why they can't help out the stranded circus folk before the pointedly female train comes along and goes "eh, sure."

Grosset & Dunlap
You're not supposed to chug and drive.

This train is smaller, and has been told she can't go over the mountain. She's been relegated to a life of domesticity, hitching trains together in the yard and probably cooking coal sandwiches. Nevertheless she agrees to try, and of course, succeeds -- it would be a goddamn awful children's book if it ended with a fiery wreck filled with burning clowns. How does she manage to do this? Purely through repeating "I think I can" over and over again.

Grosset & Dunlap
That farmer is about to get whooped for staring at her carriage.

Note that the "little engine" doesn't have to change anything within herself. She's always been able to do what the male trains do -- she's just been told she couldn't. So, this is actually a progressive story of gender equality, with the only downside being that we now know trains are sentient beings that have been enslaved for humanity's transportation needs.