Let’s all take a deep breath and collectively admit something: Disney lied to us.
The Pinocchio we grew up with (the sweet little puppet who just wants to be a real boy, guided by a sassy moral compass in a top hat) is a deeply sanitized version of the absolute nightmare fuel that is Carlo Collodi’s original book. The OG Pinocchio isn’t a wholesome story about honesty and bravery. It’s a chaotic, occasionally homicidal morality play about a wooden demon-child who ruins everything he touches and a deeply exhausted craftsman who just wanted to make a puppet and ended up with a felony-level parenting problem.
Geppetto: The World’s Saddest Dad
Poor Geppetto. He carves a puppet from a talking piece of wood that insults him while he’s carving it. Instead of burning it like a normal person, he decides to make it his son. The man has no self-preservation instinct. And from the moment Pinocchio’s wooden nose twitches, Geppetto’s life becomes a slapstick tragedy.
Pinocchio immediately runs away, wreaks havoc on the neighborhood, and somehow gets Geppetto arrested because everyone assumes he’s beating the puppet. (Spoiler: the only one dishing out abuse in this book is Pinocchio himself.) When Geppetto gets out of jail, he sells his coat (in winter!) to buy his delinquent child a schoolbook. I repeat: this man literally sacrifices warmth for education, and Pinocchio rewards him by selling that schoolbook for circus tickets. Geppetto deserves hazard pay.
Pinocchio’s Greatest Hits (of Bad Behavior)
It’s hard to overstate how absolutely unhinged Pinocchio is. He’s less “innocent and misguided” and more “possessed by the spirit of pure chaos.” Behold, a brief list of this puppet’s most deranged sins:
- Immediately lies to every adult who tries to help him and gets old daddy-o arrested for child abuse.
- Mocks authority like it’s a competitive sport.
- Sells his schoolbook (purchased with Geppetto’s literal coat money!) for circus tickets.
- Joins a gang of animal con artists who later hang him from a tree.
- Gets turned into a donkey after a spree of bad decisions…which feels less like punishment and more like destiny.
- And yes, he MURDERS the talking cricket.
Let’s pause there. Because that last one deserves its own section.
The Murder of Jiminy Cricket (Collodi Edition)
In Disney’s version, Jiminy Cricket is a lovable mentor with snappy one-liners and a nice hat. In Collodi’s book? He’s just “The Talking Cricket,” and his lifespan is approximately thirty seconds. He tries to give Pinocchio one (1) piece of moral advice: “Be good, or bad things will happen”… and Pinocchio responds by throwing a hammer at his head. Kills him instantly.
That’s right. The iconic Disney conscience? Bludgeoned to death in chapter one. No singing, no top hat, just a fatal act of puppet rage. Later, the cricket returns as a ghost, because apparently even death can’t escape this boy’s nonsense.
A Fever Dream of Morality
What follows is a series of increasingly bizarre misadventures that feel like Collodi wrote this book during a week-long espresso bender. Pinocchio is hanged, buried, resurrected, swallowed by a giant shark (not a whale. Disney lied. Again), and somehow still manages to learn absolutely nothing until the final ten pages.
And yet, beneath all the chaos, there’s a glimmer of something: a desperate attempt to teach kids about obedience, hard work, and honesty through the most traumatizing methods imaginable. This isn’t a story about personal growth. It’s a cautionary tale wrapped in the emotional intensity of an Italian soap opera and a feverish desire to scare children straight.
Final Verdict
Collodi’s Pinocchio is the literary equivalent of watching a car crash in slow motion. It’s horrifying, fascinating, and impossible to look away from. It’s a product of its time, when fairy tales weren’t meant to comfort kids but terrify them into submission. Disney had no choice but to sand off every sharp edge, slap a conscience on it, and pretend this wasn’t a story about murder, neglect, and nightmares come to life.
⭐️ Rating: 2 out of 5 nose extensions.
A fascinating historical mess. Read it if you want to see how deep the uncanny wooden rabbit hole goes — but don’t expect to like anyone in it.
