I quite like this quote, from C S Lewis.
I’m pretty old, but am I old enough?
When asked for the best children’s books, do you a) list the ones you truly loved the best, or b) mention the ones you reckon are expected of you? The ‘proper’ books of childhood.
Last week I was impressed to find I wasn’t totally alone in thinking the new list of 11 best books for under tens, published by the BBC wasn’t one I agreed with. They asked critics, who are supposed know about this. All adults, I imagine.
Charlotte’s Web, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Where the Wild Things Are, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Little Women, The Little Prince, Winnie-the-Pooh, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, A Wizard of Earthsea, A Wrinkle in Time, Little House on the Prairie.
These are fine books. But how much were they even the favourites when these critics were under ten, and how likely is it that they will continue to please young readers of today? Under ten 25 or 50 years ago is not the same as now. Much as I loved Little Women, I’d give it to an older reader today.
I’m not too keen on Roald Dahl. Never read Narnia, but accept that many have and will continue to do so. I have a feeling I’ve not got round to Charlotte’s Web, either. It’s one of those books that are always mentioned, and so well known that it can be hard to keep track of whether or not you’ve actually read it.
Surely this is primarily a list of the books a group of adults believe they loved the best, or feel are the books they ought to admit to in public? Rather like the castaways on Desert Island Discs, who were always asking for the Bible and Shakespeare, and I suspect, not always because those are the very best books in the world. True, there is a lot to read in both, but the choice feels more to be about what you dare say in public. Brave is the person who’d admit to not being a reader, or one who’d prefer Enid Blyton or Lee Child, to pick a couple of very popular writers.
As a foreigner, I feel I’m allowed not to know all these books from childhood. But if I were to choose my favourites, I feel I would be expected to go for Astrid Lindgren, rather than some unknown or forgotten light fiction (by that I mean there were lots of books I loved to bits, but where I either didn’t note the author’s name, or can’t remember it now). Nothing wrong with Astrid, I hasten to add, but whereas I liked Pippi Longstocking back then, today I’d rather not suggest her, but go for one of the others.
And there is that difference between now and then. What I liked 50 years ago, and what I reckon a little Bookwitch today would enjoy. It’s not the same. These critics would also not all be the same age, so their choices show a top eleven from the mid-20th century onwards.
If Offspring were under ten today, there are about four books on the list I’d give them (wouldn’t prevent them from picking any of the books themselves, of course). If I ever end up with Grand-Offspring, I might offer two of these books, and after that I’d go for much more recent books. There are countless wonderful reads for under tens from the last 25 years.
The night had been chilly, but the frost seemed to be gone by mid-morning. As I walked round The Park (it’s what we call our triangle of streets of around one hundred houses), I noticed frost on ‘my’ bit of the pavement. Again. This time I walked along all the pavements, and it was only the part outside Bookwitch Towers that still had frost on.
Previously I’d been aware that after periods of real snow, once it starts to melt, it will be totally gone in most places. Except outside our house. Returning home one evening a while ago, when it had begun snowing very lightly, I couldn’t help seeing that it was particularly settled just outside Bookwitch Towers.
A few weeks ago I walked round (I do this a lot) after some modest snow, finding it had disappeared everywhere, except, yes you guessed. In fairness, there were three more cold spots that day; outside Senior Scout’s house, by the Grammar School and near Corrie House. What do we have in common?
I asked on facebook. If anyone knows, it will be them. There were mutterings about Narnia. The White Witch.
It’s possible, I suppose. I just had no idea. Honestly.
Turkish Delight, anyone?
Divided City is one of Theresa Breslin’s books I missed when it was first published, and it’s probably the one I keep thinking that I really must read. Now it’s about to become a stage musical in its home city of Glasgow, with school children from all secondary schools taking part. The novel features a Celtic fan and a Rangers fan, and the whole idea behind this new venture is to reach across that divide.
Some way further south a group of our best authors have been enjoying some sunshine and discovering a different kind of divide. Here are the words of the great Philip Ardagh himself, who has finally been beaten on height (and wealth, it seems) in Dubai. I really need to find out more about this Dubai Festival of Literature, and how to get invited. Do I have to write a book or something?
‘With over 20 million books sold, there’s no doubting that Eoin Colfer is the literary giant in this photo and, at over two metres tall, there’s no doubting that I’m big in the children’s book world in an entirely different way… but we were both dwarfed by the presence of this charming meeter-and-greeter at Intercontinetal Hotel, where we’re gathered for the Dubai Festival of Literature. I’d tell you his name, if I were tall enough to read his name badge…’
Meeter-and-greeter? I think not. More like two and a half metres.
New stamps are out and I might actually buy some. Not that I write many letters, but it’s not every day we get literary stamps. I recall some Jane Austen ones from way back…
Anyway, this time it’s all witches and wizards. And a lion, by the looks of it. Have to admit, I’d not visualised Nanny Ogg quite like that.
So, it’s sort of The Lion, the Witch and the Dumbledore.