Enid

I've just found out that on Monday of next week (17th) there is a 90-minute biopic of Enid Blyton starring Helena Bonham Carter in the title role airing on BB4 (apologies to those without access to the BBC or iplayer). More information about the programme can be found here. Enid Blyton's books were a huge part of my childhood and I would love to know more about the woman herself as I know little, if anything. I do know that I regularly pass a blue plaque commemorating her in Dulwich, South-East London, where she lived as a child. My first Enid Blyton books -the first few Famous Five- were bought by my aunt in the children's department of Harrod's on a visit I made to London many years ago, which is a fond memory. I am interested that this biopic focuses on her dual challenging roles of mother and writer, especially after having recently read a fictionalised account of that same struggle in The Children's Book by A.S. Byatt. This biopic is part of a three-part series entitled Women we Loved devoted to iconic artistic females in Britain: Enid Blyton, Gracie Fields and Margot Fonteyn; I am excited to see how the careers of these women and the issues they face are conveyed onscreen.

I know that after viewing Enid I will be wanting to reread some of my beloved Blyton favourites, most likely the school stories.

The below still of Enid having a picnic with young readers makes me want lashings and lashings of ginger beer.

The Babysitters Club

My Friend Amy is hosting a week's events in honour of The Babysitters Club series of books written by Ann M. Martin. I signed up to post today as the series of books were integral to my reading experience as a child. Between the ages of ten and twelve I devoured all of the books that were then published, which added up to seventy of the core series (funnily enough, they were ghost-written from just before that time) and ten of the Super Specials, which I adored. The only other series that I was likewise addicted to was the Sweet Valley Twins series by Francine Pascal, which I read at the same time, before I moved into my teens and onto Point Horror and the logical progression into Stephen King novels and my adult reading.

Regrettably all of BSC books that I owned as a child were left in a huge box in the attic of my old family home when my parents moved house along with almost all of my other books from childhood; if I had had any to hand I would have reread a couple in preparation for this week but I suspect that they would have lost the magic they held for me and perhaps it is better to cherish the memories. I read the books at a formative time but gradually grew out of them although I will always be attached to them.

I came across this fascinating article dedicated to the books on Mental Floss a few months ago, which was a lovely trip down memory lane and quite intriguing. I pity the poor intern/editorial assistant at Scholastic who had to create each handwritten BSC notebook entry for each individual member! For a while I too dotted my "i"s with hearts like Stacey to the chagrin of my teacher that year.

I enjoyed the diversity of the characters and although I couldn't compare myself in entirety to any of them, I most identified with Claudia and Stacey, who were my favourite characters. I think that the appeal of the babysitters was their universality; there were attributes of each that one could recognise in oneself and I don't think that any of them was solely a "type". Claudia Kishi's artistic creativity and her funky wardrobe were things I aspired for myself but not her atrocious spelling! Another fun BSC-themed Mental Floss feature is this diverting quiz: Kishi Creation or Fashionista Flop? I did quite well, even sixteen years on from reading the books!

By far I enjoyed the extended Super Specials more than any individual book and I reread these over and over. Oh how I wished to be an American middle-schooler from Stoneybrook, Connecticut, going to summer camp and ski lodges! The Babysitters Club books undoubtedly began my long obsession and love affair with Disneyworld and New York City; last year I finally visited Disneyworld for the first time but NYC still remains destination number one (the first special featured the babysitters on a cruise to Florida and the Bahamas and the sixth, New York! New York!, saw them visiting Stacey's father in her home-city).

I noticed recently that Graphix, a division of Scholastic, have produced graphic novels of four of the earliest TBC titles. Apparently these are contemporary yet faithful illustrated versions of the books, beginning with Kristy's Great Idea. This modern update of a series that defines part of my childhood intrigues me; I approve of attempts to bring the series to the bookshelves and library loans of a new generation of young girls.

One last point: I LOVED the UK cover-design of the books! The logo for which I had included above but here is a link to one of my favourite Super Specials (the quality is quite poor, otherwise I would have included it in post); each of the covers provided the window-glimpse into a scene from the novel, whether it be the group or the individual babysitter the book revolved around.

Were you a fan of The Babysitters Club or were your children or siblings? What was your favourite aspect of the series?

Happy Roald Dahl Day!

I discovered via Twitter on Friday that today is Roald Dahl Day and I wanted to commemorate it. Roald Dahl was and remains my favourite children's author. I devoured his books as a child, hungry for his words as Augustus Gloop was for the chocolate river.

As a Roald Dahl-centic post I am borrowing from anothercookiecrumbles who posted her favourite Roald Dahl novels recently. I am reluctant most of the time to play favourites as it can be completely subjective depending on my mood when asked; however, giving it more thought than my gut-instinct response to the post, my favourites remain as Matilda, The Twits, and The Witches. The only one that I actually still own (due to an unfortunate incident involving all of my books from childhood being left in the attic when my parents moved house...) is Matilda and how can I not adore a book about a girl who loves reading so much a reads every children's book in the library?

Although I no longer have a copy of The Twits, I do own an Itchycoo translation into Glaswegian, The Eejits, which makes me laugh ... a lot. The cruelty of the married couple amused me for hours and hours of rereads when I was young. I loved their ingenuity and how they continually attempted to outwit one another. I remember my favourite trick as the one where Mr or Mrs Twit (I can't remember which) glues all of the furniture to the ceiling to fool their spouse into believing they were upside down, which is wickedly genius.

The Witches is such a fantastic premise. I loved to be scared as a child and this one is wonderful read aloud, especially in school for the part alone where Dahl writes that anybody could be a witch ... even your teacher! This was one of the most fun Dahl's, in my opinion, although also very disturbing.

I also love Charlie, Danny, and James… I need to purchase a complete boxset of Dahl books and embrace my inner child. My boyfriend and I are very excited to see Fantastic Mr Fox, are you?

The Children of Green Knowe

I have embraced my inner child again this weekend, despite the disappointment of revisiting What Katy Did, by picking up a copy of The Children of Green Knowe by Lucy M. Boston, following an absence of at the very least fifteen years. Like the Chronicles of Narnia, Anne of Green Gables, A Little Princess, The Secret Garden, Black Beauty, The Worst Witch, and The Borrowers, what makes The Children of Green Knowe so vivid in my recalled imagination is the powerful adaptation for television that was made in by the BBC in 1986 (I believe that I must have watched a repeat viewing of it as in 1986 I was only five years old). It was a cherished and beloved book of mine and the revisit reminded me how good a children's novel it is.

A ghost story for children, the novel revolves around Toseland (Tolly) Oldknow who goes to live with his great-Grandmother in the ancestral family home, Green Knowe, that has been known as Green Noah for centuries. Tolly and his Grandmother see ghosts of their ancestors, primarily three siblings -an earlier Toseland (Toby), Andrew, and Linette- who lived during the reign of Charles II and died in the Great Plague. There was a curse placed upon a large (green) topiary of Noah in the garden by a witch, the resulting tree demon affecting the Oldknow males and the topiary is left to become overgrown ever since, and another supernatural element in the protective stone St Christopher who becomes animated.

The novel is supernaturally evocative; the reader is caught up in the magic and its charm was not lost on me as an adult. The more ominous, frightening, tension was less effective now but that is only to be expected. The writing is beautifully depictive, the descriptions poetic, and I found this line wonderfully expressive:

He heard no thunder. It was even unnaturally quiet. Perhaps it only seemed unnatural because he himself was brimming with excitement. He heard the weir pounding at the end of the garden. It only made the quietness quieter. It was rather like a heart that is only heard when it beats too loud.

Another favourite passage, a poignant one:

He must have known of course that the children could not have lived so many centuries without growing old, but he had never thought about it. To him they were so real, so near, they were his own family that he needed more than anything on earth. He felt the world had come to an end.

I remember the book being longer as a child! Although Puffin classics probably were shorter and thicker.

What Katy Did

So embracing my inner child at the weekend wasn't entirely successful. Re-reading What Katy Did by Susan Coolidge I was wishing that I hadn't. Much as Hilary Mantel did I found Katy's story to be pious and moralising. Is this really the Katy Carr I loved as a child? Post accident she is so saintly saccharine that I felt the need of a visit to the dentist.
I was a good child and I am sure that I looked to Katy as I did Anne Shirley and Mary Lennox and Pippi Longstocking as a means of escape. I certainly preferred the Katy Carr who got herself into scrapes earlier in the children's novel and not Saint Katy that she later became.

What Katy Did at School was my favourite of the What Katy Did trilogy (What Katy Did Next I can barely recall) and I approach re-reading it with trepidation ... what if all my wonderful childhood memories of reading and re-reading it are shattered? It is a school story, one of my favourite children's literature genres, and therefore full of promise but I am still nervous. I don't think I'll be able to bear the disappointment of now hating it.

Far more successful were re-readings of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Although not a revisit to childhood memories for me as I first read about Harry Potter and -at that time- four of his magical adventures in 2002, it is certainly embracing my inner child. I am an unashamed and avid fan of the Harry Potter books and films and I am still waiting for my letter to say that I am going to Hogwarts.

Embracing my Inner Child

Even though I have a TBR pile longer than the cumulative length of all of my limbs and then some, I cannot resist embracing my inner child this weekend. Who needs an excuse to revisit comforting childhood reads? I don't.

I love Children's Literature. I read so many great books as a child that are beloved and were an informative part of my reading. I also enjoy discovering new (and classic) children's books.
Some of my favourites have made it onto my Children's Lit bookshelf above although I am dismayed to notice that Anne of Green Gables isn't there and am annoyed to realise that I have inadvertently left it in my parents' home in Glasgow. Leaving one's packing for a move to London until the last minute and having books everywhere will ensure that one's book packing is haphazard -and often nonsensical- to say the least. Case in point: I have the first two and the last Harry Potter books here and the middle four at home. Sigh. I do, however, have them on audio (read by the wonderful Stephen Fry) and I am listening to Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone as I write.

Due to another moving oversight a few years ago (not mine this time) most of my books from childhood were left in a huge box in the attic so I have desperately tried to replace the ones that are most sentimental to me. Borders 20% student discount days whilst I was at University were mainly spent in the Children's department.

This weekend is forecast to be fairly miserable and we have no plans other than the weekly grocery shop at Sainsbury's and watching the F1 in Turkey so I think spending it curled up with a cosy read is an ideal way to spend the remainder. Besides, I feel the need for some heartwarming comfort and escapism in childhood innocence. I plan to listen to the remainder of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and read What Katy Did by Susan Coolidge and then possibly its sequels or Roald Dahl's Matilda.

What are your childhood favourites? What makes you embrace or become nostalgic for your inner child?