Garage Time Confessions
Okay, let’s be real for a second. I picked this one because it was under five hours. That’s it. That’s the criteria sometimes.
I was sitting in my car in the garage—engine off, groceries wilting in the trunk—trying to summon the energy to face the witching hour inside (Sophie was definitely screaming; I could hear it through the drywall). I needed something classic, something that felt "educational" for the older kids, and something short enough that I wouldn't forget the plot between drop-offs.
So, Pinocchio. I thought, "Cute! Jiminy Cricket! Whistling!"
Boy, was I wrong. And honestly? I kind of loved it.
This Puppet is a Menace (And I Relate to Geppetto)
If you only know the Disney movie, you are in for a wild ride. This isn't the wide-eyed, innocent puppet who just wants to be a real boy. Book Pinocchio is... well, he's a delinquent. A wooden delinquent.
From the second he gets carved, he’s kicking Geppetto, running away, and refusing to listen to anyone. As a mom of a five-year-old boy (Lucas) who currently thinks "no" is a complete sentence, I felt this in my soul. There were moments where I was listening while folding laundry and literally said out loud, "Geppetto, honey, just turn him into firewood."
But that’s actually why it works. It’s messy. It’s weirdly dark.
The research notes call it "uncanny" and "psychological," and yeah, that tracks. It’s not just a cute fairy tale; it’s a story about how hard it is to grow up and how easy it is to be selfish. Pinocchio has to learn empathy the hard way. Like, really the hard way. (Spoiler: The cricket doesn't have a great time in this version. I won't ruin it, but let's just say he’s not singing catchy tunes on a windowsill.)
The Voice in the Car
Now, let’s talk about Mark F. Smith.
I hadn't listened to him before, but apparently, he’s a legend in the public domain audiobook world. And I get it now.
Narrating a book like this is tricky. If you go too cartoonish, it’s annoying. If you go too serious, it’s terrifying. Mark walks this perfect line. He sounds like a kindly grandfather sitting by a fire, telling you a story that he knows is going to scare you just a little bit—but for your own good.
His rhythm is fantastic. I listen at 1.25x speed (standard survival mode setting), and sometimes narrators get choppy or breathless at that pace. Mark sounded smooth as butter. He gives the characters distinct voices without doing that over-the-top, screechy thing some narrators do for kids' books.
There’s a warmth to his delivery that softens the blow when Pinocchio is being particularly awful. You get the sense that the narrator loves this wooden headache of a character, even when he’s being a brat. It kept me listening even when I was just scrubbing the same spot on the counter for five minutes.
Is It Actually for Kids?
Here’s the million-dollar question.
I tried playing this during the school run with Emma (7) and Lucas (5).
Lucas? Bored immediately. Not enough explosions, too much talking about "conscience."
Emma? She was fascinated, but also a little disturbed. When the darker stuff happened—and there are hangings and assassins (yes, really)—I had to turn the volume down and cough loudly.
So, is it a "family listen"? Maybe. But not for the toddler set. This is for the older kids who can handle a bit of old-school grimness. Or, honestly, just for you. It’s a fascinating look at how we used to teach kids morality before we wrapped everything in bubble wrap.
The Verdict
I finished this in three days—mostly during the nap-time hustle and the garage sit-ins.
It’s not the cheerful Disney romp I expected. It’s weirder, darker, and surprisingly deep. But Mark F. Smith’s narration makes it a genuinely cozy listen, despite the trauma.
If you want a classic that you can knock out in a week and that makes you feel slightly better about your own kids' behavior (at least they aren't made of wood and getting chased by assassins), give it a shot. Just maybe screen it before you play it for the 4-year-old at bedtime.
