Category: Children’s

Elidor by Alan Garner

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I’ve been meaning to re-read this classic children’s fantasy novel for a long time and was motivated to move it further up the TBR pile after reading a wonderful review by Chris of Calmgrove Books earlier this year. I first read it at the age of about nine or ten – or rather, it was read by a lovely teacher who used to read aloud to us at the end of the day. I enjoyed it so much I got my own copy to read for myself a few years later.

Elidor was published in 1965 and has a strong 1960s feel which contrasts with the eerie, otherworldly nature of the fantasy land of Elidor. It begins with Roland Watson and his older siblings Nicholas, Helen and David wandering the streets of Manchester one cold afternoon, looking for something to do to pass the time. The post-war urban slum clearances are under way and the children stumble upon a church being prepared for demolition. When one of them accidentally kicks a ball through the church window, they go in one by one to look for it and don’t return, until only Roland is left.

Following his brothers and sister into the church, he discovers a portal to another land: Elidor, a world that was once beautiful but is now dying and decaying, under attack from the forces of darkness. Here, Roland meets the mysterious Malebron – a blind fiddle player, or is he a king? – who tells him that three of Elidor’s four golden castles have now become dark, but all hope isn’t yet lost. The Watson siblings must find the four Treasures – a stone, a spear, a cup and a sword – and keep them safe in their own world until light can be restored to Elidor.

For a fantasy novel, we spend a surprisingly small amount of time in Elidor itself. Most of the story takes place in Manchester, once the children have returned with the Treasures (which, away from Elidor, are transformed into everyday objects to make them easier to hide). However, the boundary between the two worlds is thin and the dark forces of Elidor begin to find their way through. There was a scene I found quite terrifying as a child, where the hidden objects begin to create static electricity, causing interference with all the electrical items in the Watson household. I still found it very unsettling as an adult! It’s this encroachment on the characters’ ordinary lives that makes Elidor darker than, say, the Narnia books. It reminded me a lot of Susan Cooper’s The Dark is Rising, which also features a battle between light and dark and the intrusion of evil forces on the real world.

Another thing this book and the Susan Cooper series have in common is a strong mythological background, with various allusions to myths and legends woven into the plot. Roland’s name, for example, is significant because the first part of the story has parallels with the folktale Childe Rowland, in which Rowland also has two brothers and a sister, Burd Ellen, who also disappear after kicking a ball over a church. Then there’s the title Elidor, inspired by a medieval Welsh folktale (Elidyr and the Golden Ball); the four castles and four treasures, which correspond to the Irish legends of the Tuatha Dé Danann; and the untamed unicorn, Findhorn, whose song is the key to saving Elidor. Don’t worry, though, if you’re not familiar with any of these myths – they’re not necessary to understanding the story.

Although I enjoyed reading Elidor again after so many years, I didn’t find it an entirely satisfying book. There’s not much worldbuilding regarding Elidor itself; we only get a brief glimpse of it early in the novel and we never really learn exactly why it is being destroyed, who the evil forces are or what their aims are. Everything is kept intentionally vague and although this does add to the general eeriness of the book, I would have liked to have known more. We aren’t told the ages of the children either – we just know that Nicholas is the oldest and Roland the youngest. I found it surprisingly frustrating not knowing how old they were! Of course, none of this bothered me the first time I read it and it is a children’s book, after all.

I’m not sure if I ever read any of Alan Garner’s other books and can’t remember them if I did. Maybe I should try some of them now that I’ve reminded myself of this one.

Tales from Watership Down by Richard Adams

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Watership Down has been one of my favourite books since I first read it as a ten-year-old and when I re-read it in 2010 I was pleased to find I still loved it as much as I ever did (it’s a book that can be equally appreciated by both adults and children, I think). Despite that, the thought of reading the sequel, Tales from Watership Down, has never really appealed to me – it’s a collection of short stories rather than a novel like the first book and I’ve heard a lot of people say they were disappointed by it. Anyway, I decided to give it a try this Easter (I’ve always associated Watership Down with this time of year as the film often used to be shown on Easter Sunday until parents complained that it was too violent and not the nice cartoon about cute bunnies they’d assumed it was!).

The book is divided into three sections, beginning with a selection of stories featuring El-ahrairah, also known as ‘the Prince with a Thousand Enemies’, the legendary folk hero of the rabbit world. If you’ve read Watership Down, you’ll remember that the rabbits often entertain or comfort themselves by telling stories about El-ahrairah (whom Richard Adams himself described as a rabbit version of Robin Hood). These stories were always my least favourite parts of the novel as I felt they were just a distraction from the main narrative, so I wasn’t exactly thrilled about there being so many of them here. However, I really enjoyed the first one, The Sense of Smell, in which El-ahrairah goes on a journey to several faraway lands in search of someone who can give him the ability to smell, a sense which rabbits don’t yet have, making them vulnerable to predators. He is told that the sinister Ilips, who live in a cave in a land of perpetual darkness, will be able to give him this sense for himself and his rabbits, but things don’t go to plan and El-ahrairah is forced to travel on to the Land of Yesterday, a fascinating fictional world!

At the end of this section there are two stories which don’t involve El-ahrairah. One, Speedwell’s Story, is an intentionally silly story which Adams says in the introduction is ‘representative of the kind of nonsense tales which rabbits enjoy’. As I’m not a rabbit, I didn’t enjoy that one, but I did like The Rabbit’s Ghost Story, which is told by a rabbit called Coltsfoot. As he tells of his encounter with a ghostly rabbit, it’s very atmospheric and while Adams’ writing is often quite dark, this particular story comes close to the horror genre.

The second section of the book consists of four more El-ahrairah stories, but this time they are connected and describe what happened when El-ahrairah and his friend Rabscuttle return from visiting the Black Rabbit of Inlé (this journey was referred to in the original novel). I was intrigued by the first one, The Story of the Comical Field, in which the two rabbits are tricked into entering a man-made maze where they encounter an unspecified ‘evil’, but I found the other stories less interesting.

Finally, we come to the third section and the one I think most of us will have been waiting for: a continuation of the events of Watership Down, describing some of the things that happen to Hazel, Fiver, Bigwig and the others after they establish their new warren on the Down. They don’t have such dramatic adventures as in the first book, but do have to deal with various newcomers who disturb the stability of the warren, including Stonecrop, an escaped hutch rabbit who smells of man, and Flyairth, a doe who is convinced they are all going to die of the White Blindness (myxomatosis). Maybe in response to criticism of the first book being sexist, Adams gives a lot of attention to Hyzenthlay, Vilthuril and the other doe characters and explores the idea of warrens being run by female Chief Rabbits. I enjoyed this final part of the book, but was left feeling a bit sad because it gave us a glimpse of what a true sequel could have looked like.

So, do I think this book is worth reading? I wouldn’t recommend it as an introduction to Richard Adams, but if you enjoyed Watership Down and want to spend more time in that world, then you’ll probably like the third part of the book at least – but don’t set your expectations too high and be prepared for lots of El-ahrairah.

All-of-a-Kind Family by Sydney Taylor

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I’m ashamed to say I had never come across this classic American children’s novel until Constance of Staircase Wit recommended it when I commented on one of her reviews that I would like to read more about life on New York’s Lower East Side. Constance kindly sent me a copy, which I have now read and enjoyed!

First published in 1951, the book follows five young sisters through a year of their childhood in 1912. Ella, at twelve, is the oldest and four-year-old Gertie is the youngest, with Henny (Henrietta), Sarah and Charlotte in between. They are known as an ‘all-of-a-kind family’ due to being all girls – or, as the librarian refers to them, a ‘step-and-stairs family’ because of their evenly spaced ages. They live in an apartment on the Lower East Side and Papa runs a junk shop nearby while Mama looks after the children and their home.

In the first chapter, Sarah is upset because a friend has borrowed her library book and lost it. She’s sure she’ll be in big trouble and banned from going to the library ever again. However, the librarian, Miss Allen, is sympathetic and, knowing that the family would be offended by charity, she agrees to let Sarah pay for the book one penny a week. Miss Allen becomes a good friend to the girls after this and we meet her again later in the book, but meanwhile there are lots of other adventures to be had – including making a fun game from dusting the apartment, going to the market with Mama, and getting lost at Coney Island.

This is such a charming book, I’m sure I would have loved it as a child. The five girls are all very endearing and Taylor gives them all individual personalities of their own. Ella, being nearly a teenager, is the most mature of the sisters and is beginning to form romantic attachments; ten-year-old Henny is independent and rebellious, while Sarah is more studious. The two youngest girls are less well developed, but Gertie, the baby of the family, looks up to Charlotte who is two years older and they have a particularly close relationship.

One of the most interesting things about this book is that the girls belong to a Jewish family, so we are given lots of descriptions of them preparing for Jewish holidays such as Purim and Passover (as well as celebrating the Fourth of July) – and because the girls are so young, Mama and Papa explain to them the meanings of each custom and tradition, which can be very helpful for non-Jewish readers! Not many of the books I remember reading as a child featured children who were anything other than Christian, so it’s good to know that this book existed even if I wasn’t aware of it.

This is a lovely book (and also the first in a series). Thanks to Constance for introducing me to it.