BLYTON
The 1970s equivalent of Britney Spears, Kate Moss and Jade Goody didn’t people my thoughts when I was young (in ‘the olden days’). It’s sad to think of today’s pre-pubescent girls running around thinking of celebrity marriage break-ups (if this is what they do). The characters on my mental map were from stories. In truth, they’ve never really been away.
Hence, it’s still very easy to recall the Naughtiest Girl in the School, who couldn’t live without a record called “The Sea Piece” and who ordered a beautiful birthday cake for her friend, Joan (whose parents appeared to have forgotten about her). The delighted Joan then wrote to her folks to thank them for the lavish cake, which uncovered the deceit. In a fit of pique at being sent away from home to boarding school, Elizabeth the Naughtiest Girl defiantly poured a bottle of black ink over her white rug in an effort to get expelled. (She wasn’t, of course. In the best tradition of Enid Blyton, she realised the error of her unruly ways, made good, and went on to become head girl).
(Nostalgic sigh). Then there’s Billy Bunter of Greyfriars School. He was forever waiting for a postal order, and whenever his family sent him a cake he would cut a modest slice, replace it, and then eat the rest of the cake.
Malory Towers was a classic boarding school series. It had a swimming pool that could only be used when the tide was in, a French teacher who was unable to master English idioms, (she thought pebbles were a unit of weight), and a boy whose fingers resembled a bunch of bananas when he played the piano.
For me though, the pair that first kicked off Reading For Pleasure were Noddy and Big Ears. Unforgettable – their trip to the seaside, and illustrations of the two of them wearing ‘bathing costumes’. Unfortunately, Noddy and Big Ears’s maiden voyage to the coast was an unmitigated disaster. On the drive down, a suitcase parted company with the back of Noddy’s car. The day after, a giant crab bit Noddy on his big toe while he was paddling. They pitched their tent on the wrong part of the beach and, in the manner of King Cnut, spent a long time shouting “Go away!” at the incoming tide. The tide didn’t turn but in the end this was irrelevant – shortly afterwards a fierce gale ripped the tent from its pegs and carried it away into the starry night sky. I can recall the two of them returning home and remarking that, while holidays are nice, nothing beats getting home again.
It’s sad, but I’ll probably never enjoy another writer quite so much.
The 1970s equivalent of Britney Spears, Kate Moss and Jade Goody didn’t people my thoughts when I was young (in ‘the olden days’). It’s sad to think of today’s pre-pubescent girls running around thinking of celebrity marriage break-ups (if this is what they do). The characters on my mental map were from stories. In truth, they’ve never really been away.
Hence, it’s still very easy to recall the Naughtiest Girl in the School, who couldn’t live without a record called “The Sea Piece” and who ordered a beautiful birthday cake for her friend, Joan (whose parents appeared to have forgotten about her). The delighted Joan then wrote to her folks to thank them for the lavish cake, which uncovered the deceit. In a fit of pique at being sent away from home to boarding school, Elizabeth the Naughtiest Girl defiantly poured a bottle of black ink over her white rug in an effort to get expelled. (She wasn’t, of course. In the best tradition of Enid Blyton, she realised the error of her unruly ways, made good, and went on to become head girl).
(Nostalgic sigh). Then there’s Billy Bunter of Greyfriars School. He was forever waiting for a postal order, and whenever his family sent him a cake he would cut a modest slice, replace it, and then eat the rest of the cake.
Malory Towers was a classic boarding school series. It had a swimming pool that could only be used when the tide was in, a French teacher who was unable to master English idioms, (she thought pebbles were a unit of weight), and a boy whose fingers resembled a bunch of bananas when he played the piano.
For me though, the pair that first kicked off Reading For Pleasure were Noddy and Big Ears. Unforgettable – their trip to the seaside, and illustrations of the two of them wearing ‘bathing costumes’. Unfortunately, Noddy and Big Ears’s maiden voyage to the coast was an unmitigated disaster. On the drive down, a suitcase parted company with the back of Noddy’s car. The day after, a giant crab bit Noddy on his big toe while he was paddling. They pitched their tent on the wrong part of the beach and, in the manner of King Cnut, spent a long time shouting “Go away!” at the incoming tide. The tide didn’t turn but in the end this was irrelevant – shortly afterwards a fierce gale ripped the tent from its pegs and carried it away into the starry night sky. I can recall the two of them returning home and remarking that, while holidays are nice, nothing beats getting home again.
It’s sad, but I’ll probably never enjoy another writer quite so much.
