You probably remember the cover. It’s hard to miss. That holographic, glittering foil that caught the light of every elementary school library in the 1990s. Marcus Pfister’s The Rainbow Fish is a powerhouse of children’s literature, but if you ask a room full of parents today what is The Rainbow Fish about, you’re going to get some very heated, very different answers.
On the surface, it's a simple story about a fish who is prettier than everyone else. He’s got these sparkling silver scales that make him the envy of the ocean. But he’s lonely. He’s kind of a jerk, honestly. He refuses to play with the other fish and won't share his beauty. Eventually, following some advice from a wise octopus, he peels off his shiny scales one by one and gives them away. By the end, he only has one shimmering scale left, but he’s surrounded by friends who are all now equally shiny.
It sounds sweet. It’s been a bestseller for decades. Yet, underneath that glitter, there is a surprisingly complex—and sometimes controversial—discourse about identity, socialism, and the cost of belonging.
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The Plot Nobody Actually Forgets
The story kicks off with the Rainbow Fish being, well, the most beautiful creature in the sea. His scales are every color of the rainbow, interspersed with those iconic sparkling silver ones. When a little blue fish asks for just one scale, the Rainbow Fish reacts with total indignation. "Get away from me!" he yells. Not exactly a "social butterfly" move.
Predictably, word travels fast in the reef. Soon, nobody wants to hang out with him. He’s the most beautiful fish in the entire ocean, and he’s completely miserable. This is where the narrative shifts from a story about vanity to a story about social currency. He visits the Starfish, who sends him to the deep, dark cave of the Octopus.
The Octopus doesn't mince words. She tells him that to be happy, he has to give his scales away. He won't be the most beautiful anymore, she admits, but he will know how to be happy. It’s a heavy trade-off for a kid to process. Does beauty equal loneliness? Does happiness require a physical sacrifice? Pfister doesn't linger on the philosophy; he moves straight to the action. The Rainbow Fish gives a scale to the little blue fish, feels a "peculiar feeling," and then proceeds to hand them out until the whole ocean is glittering.
Is It About Sharing or Losing Yourself?
This is where the modern critique of the book gets crunchy. For years, teachers used this book to teach "sharing." It’s the gold standard for the preschool set. If you have a lot and someone has nothing, give them some of yours. Simple, right?
But as the internet age matured, a lot of people started looking at the subtext. Some critics argue that the book isn't actually about sharing at all—it’s about the "price of admission" to a social group. They point out that the Rainbow Fish didn't share something he had in abundance, like food or toys. He shared his actual body parts. His physical identity.
There is a loud contingent of readers who find the ending unsettling. They see a story where a unique individual has to literally strip away what makes him special just so the "average" fish will stop being mean to him. Is it a lesson in generosity, or a cautionary tale about how peer pressure can force you to conform? Honestly, both interpretations have legs.
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The Artistic Impact of Marcus Pfister
We can't talk about what is The Rainbow Fish about without mentioning the craft. Marcus Pfister, a Swiss author and illustrator, did something revolutionary with the printing process. Before this book hit the shelves in 1992 (originally published in German as Der Regenbogenfisch), holographic foil stamping was mostly reserved for greeting cards or high-end packaging.
Pfister insisted on it for the book. It was a massive financial risk for the publisher, NorthSouth Books. The production costs were astronomical compared to a standard picture book. But it worked. That tactile, visual "pop" is exactly why the book became a global phenomenon. It has been translated into over 50 languages. Millions of copies are sitting on shelves right now from Tokyo to Berlin.
The art style itself is soft, watercolor-heavy, and dreamy. It creates a sense of peace that contrasts with the internal conflict of the main character. When you look at the original sketches, you see that Pfister was obsessed with the way light moves underwater. The foil wasn't just a gimmick; it was a structural necessity to represent the "light" the character was supposedly holding onto too tightly.
Why the Controversy Won't Die
In many parenting circles, The Rainbow Fish is a "banned" book—not by the government, but by the parents themselves. They worry it teaches kids that they must give up their boundaries to have friends.
"I want my daughter to know she doesn't have to give away her 'scales' to be liked," is a common sentiment you'll find on parenting blogs.
On the other side of the fence, educators argue that children don't see it that way. Kids are literal. To a four-year-old, the scale is just a "thing." Sharing the "thing" makes the other person happy, and seeing that happiness makes the giver happy. It’s a basic introduction to altruism.
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There's also the political angle. You'll often hear people joke—or argue seriously—that the book is a primer for "My First Marxism." The idea is that everyone must be exactly the same for the society to function peacefully. If one person has more "wealth" (scales), it must be redistributed until everyone has an equal share. While Pfister has generally maintained that the book is about the joy of sharing, it's fascinating how a 30-page picture book can mirror such massive geopolitical debates.
Beyond the Original: The Franchise
The success of the first book led to a massive expansion. If you’re trying to understand the full scope of what this character represents, you have to look at the sequels:
- The Rainbow Fish to the Rescue!: This one deals with themes of exclusion and standing up for others, even if they aren't part of your "group."
- Rainbow Fish and the Big Blue Whale: A misunderstanding leads to a conflict, teaching kids about communication and not jumping to conclusions.
- The Rainbow Fish and the Sea Monster's Cave: This explores the concept of fear and how our imagination often makes things scarier than they are.
There was even a television series in the late 90s. Interestingly, the TV show moved away from the "giving away scales" plot because, well, you can't have a protagonist who disappears every episode. Instead, it focused on standard school-age adventures. This shift suggests that even the creators realized the "sacrifice" hook of the first book was a one-time thematic punch, not a sustainable lifestyle for a character.
The Psychology of the "Peculiar Feeling"
There’s a specific line in the book where the Rainbow Fish gives away a scale and a "rather peculiar feeling came over him."
Psychologists often point to this as the "Giver’s Glow." There is actual scientific evidence—like a 2006 study from the National Institutes of Health—showing that when people give to charities, it activates regions of the brain associated with pleasure and social connection.
Pfister captured a biological reality. The "peculiar feeling" isn't just a literary device; it’s the dopamine hit of prosocial behavior. This is perhaps the most "human" part of the story. It acknowledges that the Rainbow Fish didn't start out wanting to be kind. He did it almost as an experiment, and the internal reward was what changed his behavior, not just the external praise from the other fish.
Real-World Comparisons: The Peacock of the Sea?
In reality, there isn't a "Rainbow Fish." However, the ocean is full of creatures that use shimmering scales for survival. Think of the Sardine or the Herring. Their scales are iridescent to confuse predators—a phenomenon called "silvering."
When a predator looks at a school of silver fish, the light reflects in every direction, making it impossible to single out one individual. In a weird twist of biological irony, the real "Rainbow Fish" of the world actually need their scales to stay part of the group and stay alive. If a real fish gave away its reflective scales, it wouldn't be making friends; it would be making itself a very visible target for a shark.
Actionable Insights for Reading with Kids
If you’re planning to read this to a child, don't just breeze through the glitter. Use it as a launching pad for some actual critical thinking. You can bridge the gap between "sharing is good" and "boundaries are important" by asking specific questions.
- Check the Motivation: Ask the child, "Why did the Rainbow Fish give the scale away? Was it because he wanted to be kind, or because he was lonely?"
- Discuss Uniqueness: Ask if the other fish could have found their own way to shine without taking something from him.
- The "Big Gift" vs. "Small Gift": Talk about the difference between sharing a toy (which you get back) and giving away something that is a part of you (which you don't).
- Empathy Exercise: Ask how the little blue fish felt when he was told "no" versus how he felt when he was given a scale.
What Most People Get Wrong
People often think the book is about being "perfect." It's actually the opposite. It’s about the fact that being "perfect" and "superior" is a prison. The Rainbow Fish starts the book as a masterpiece of nature, but he’s essentially a statue. He’s static.
It’s only through the messy, painful, and diminishing act of giving that he actually starts to live. Whether you agree with the method or not, the core message is that life happens in the exchange between people, not in the hoarding of personal excellence.
The story isn't a guide on how to be a saint. It's an observation of how isolation kills the soul, and how community—as expensive as it might be to your ego—is the only known cure.
To get the most out of your next reading session, try comparing The Rainbow Fish to Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. Both books explore the limits of generosity, but they reach very different conclusions about what happens to the giver at the end of the day. Reading them back-to-back is a great way to show kids (and adults) that there isn't just one "right" way to be a good person.
Check the copyright page of your edition; many newer printings include a brief note from the author or publisher that sheds light on the specific "shimmer" technology used, which is a great mini-lesson in how books are actually made.
Observe how the glitter changes as the story progresses. Notice that the beauty doesn't disappear from the world; it just spreads out. That's the most practical way to view the book: as a lesson in the "conservation of beauty." When you give something away, it doesn't cease to exist—it just changes its zip code.
Next Steps for Deeper Understanding
- Research the Printing Process: Look up "cold foil" vs "hot foil" stamping to see how Marcus Pfister's vision changed the children's book industry.
- Explore Comparative Literature: Read A Sick Day for Amos McGee to see a different take on social reciprocity that doesn't involve physical sacrifice.
- Art Project: Have a child create their own "scale" using aluminum foil and markers, then discuss what "gift" they would write on the back to give to a friend (like "a joke," "a hug," or "help with homework"). This moves the concept from physical objects to intangible acts of service.
The conversation around what is The Rainbow Fish about will likely continue for another thirty years. It remains a polarizing masterpiece precisely because it doesn't offer an easy answer. It offers a reflection—literally.