Tag: children’s fiction

  • Review of ‘Aquila’ by Andrew Norriss

    If you watched British children’s TV in 1997-8, you might remember an excellent show called Aquila. The song and opening credits were awesome. It began with a Latin chant and then a dash through the solar system to a rock soundtrack. I remember this and the content of the show very well. However, I never encountered the book, which won the Whitbread Award. I thought it was about time I read it! Andrew Norriss also worked on other great TV shows, Woof!, Bernard’s Watch and The Brittas Empire.

    Book cover shows two boys with crash helmets on.

    On a school trip, two boys named Tom and Geoff discover an ancient spaceship, named Aquila. Instead of donating their find to a museum, they keep it a secret. They discover what it can do, with sometimes hair-raising results. Amusingly, only their neighbour, an elderly lady, has seen evidence of the spaceship, but thinks it’s a side-effect of her pills. The teachers become suspicious, because the boys are now taking an interest in mathematics, Latin, maps and flight, despite being at the bottom of the class. Geoff is dyslexic and does not want to learn to read, while Tom is simply not into learning, unless it’s very specific such as his collection of rocks. Discovering Aquila helps the boys to face their fears – Geoff’s fear of reading (the spaceship communicates in Latin and then English) and Tom’s fear of risk (learning to fly the ship). I would have liked more background on Aquila’s origins, as this is only briefly touched upon, but I suppose it might have got in the way of the simple story. It’s a fun book and I’m sure I’ll read it again.

    Published by Puffin, 1997. The TV tie-in cover shows Craig Vye (L) as Geoff and Ben Brooks as Tom (R).

  • Review of ‘The Road to Oz’ by L Frank Baum

    Have you heard of the Shaggy Man? No, he’s not Scooby-Doo’s best pal, or a character from DC Comics, or the Jamaican singer of ‘It Wasn’t Me’ and ‘Mr Boombastic’ fame. Way before all of these, he was a lovable tramp in the fifth Oz book.

    The story begins with Dorothy and Toto meeting the Shaggy Man in Kansas, and then they discover that the road has split into several directions. They pick up another traveller, Button-Bright, an empty-headed boy in a sailor suit. The next to join them is ethereal Polychrome, the rainbow’s daughter. By this time, they know that if they keep going, they should arrive in Oz. Facing challenges on the way, such as almost being turned into soup, two of them temporarily having the heads of animals, and being disturbed by a man who breathes out horrible music, they are determined to cross the Deadly Desert and reach the Emerald City in time for Princess Ozma’s birthday extravaganza.

    Illustration of Polychrome drinking from a cup

    This is a fun story which managed to introduce even more characters that the reader quickly becomes fond of. I liked how everyone makes an effort with Button-Bright even though his standard answer is ‘don’t know’. The Shaggy Man is an interesting character because he seems to be a vagrant by choice – he is strongly against money and is pleased to discover that Oz uses kindness as currency – and being ‘shaggy’ is so essential to his wellbeing that even his new suit of clothes in Oz is bejewelled yet shaggy. I thought Polychrome – Polly for short – was quite a marvellous idea as she is a fairy with swirling hair and clothes who is always dancing and survives on dewdrops. The plot of the story went downhill once everyone reached the Emerald City, as these chapters were mostly descriptions of celebrations, finery and royal visitors. I was puzzled at the inclusion of Santa Claus, as figures with their roots in the real world have not previously appeared in the books. It was as if the author had stuck Santa in there to oblige one of his child readers, whose letters he always mentions in the preface. Perhaps he or she wrote: ‘Dear Mr Baum, I love your books! Please please can you write one with Santa in it?’

    Some of the characters from previous books return in this one. Most notably we discover that Jack Pumpkinhead now has a pumpkin farm so that when his head spoils, he always has a replacement. He also lives in a giant pumpkin.

    I enjoyed reading this instalment and am certainly going to continue reading the series.

    First published in 1909, illustrated by John R Neill. This edition was from Project Gutenberg.

  • Film of the book: ‘Bedknobs and Broomsticks’ (1971)

    A delightful, quirky and underrated Disney film I have always enjoyed, which has several things in common with Mary Poppins: wonderful music from the Sherman Brothers, one of the same actors (David Tomlinson), children going on magical adventures with seemingly prim ‘n’ proper women, an animated segment, good special effects and – most importantly for this blog post – a vast improvement upon the original book.

    First published as separate books in the 1940s, The Magic Bedknob and Bonfires and Broomsticks by Mary Norton were published as an omnibus edition, Bedknob and Broomstick. This title then became that of the film, with added plurals (I don’t know why – there is only one knob and one stick!)

    The concept, of three London children named Charles, Carey (Carrie in the film) and Paul, travelling on a bed via a magic knob with the help of a witch, Miss Price, is the same for both. There are few similarities apart from this. The most glaring difference is that the film is set during the Second World War, with the children being cheeky working-class evacuees reluctantly taken in by Miss Price (in the book, they are middle-class, it appears to be pre-war, and the children are staying with an aunt in Bedfordshire when they meet Miss Price). Rather than using magic to help her flowers grow, Miss Price (the marvellous Angela Lansbury) is learning spells for the war effort, culminating in a locomotion spell which chases the invading Germans away. There are many plot holes and mysteries in the film, which I don’t mind because it’s fun. The book is not nearly as fun. Even the travel on the bed is not fun (it lurches and makes everyone feel ill), while in the film it’s a fabulous magical moment, false-colour landscapes and stars whizzing by to the tune of ‘The Age of Not Believing’ while the bed’s occupants grin and hold on to their hats.

    The first place in the book that the children travel to is their mother’s house, where they find she is not in, so they hang around limply until dark and are picked up by the police, who question them at length about the bed. Eventually they get back to their aunt and the next adventure is to a cannibal island, which is not at all politically correct, and after they return they’re sent home in disgrace because their aunt doesn’t believe the bed got soaking wet from the sea. Compare these rather uninteresting events with the brilliant ‘Portobello Road’ sequence, Miss Price’s fierce and cynical black cat Cosmic Creepers, the jolly charlatan / father figure Emelius Browne joining the adventure (he features in the book as Emelius Jones, a 17th century apprentice necromancer, and is not the same kind of person at all), the quest for the other half of the spellbook which will complete the locomotion spell, the ‘Beautiful Briny Sea’ sequence, hilarious soccer match on the island of human-like animals, etc. I love the film; the book is comparatively mediocre and I wouldn’t recommend it.

    Bedknobs and Broomsticks film poster.

  • Review of ‘Wonka’ by Sibéal Pounder, Paul King and Simon Farnaby

    Wonka is a delightful musical film released in 2023, which worked as a prequel to both the book of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and the Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory film. This novelisation is based on the screenplay. I think that child readers will love it, especially if they are already fans of the film, and not find it that different to Roald Dahl’s original writing style, but as a more discerning adult reader I did have some issues with the book.

    Wonka book cover based on the film, showing Wonka walking towards glowing jars of sweets.

    The story tells how Willy Wonka, as a young man, began his career as a chocolate maker, inspired by his mother. After a trip around the world, he ends up in an unnamed city, where he intends to sell his amazing chocolate. Down on his luck, he is forced into working for a greedy pair of laundry owners, where he meets a group of new friends who help him achieve his goals. However, three rival chocolatiers want to get rid of him…

    As you might expect, the book generally follows the screenplay, with a few minor changes. I noted that the language and content are toned down a little. For example, a chocolate, given to a zoo guard (so that Wonka can sneak in to milk a giraffe) which simulates an alcohol-fuelled night on the town, is changed in the book to a chocolate which simulates a birthday party with cake, fizzy drink and a bouncy castle. The word ‘insane’ is replaced by ‘bonkers’ and instead of gin we have ‘worm water’. The film is aimed at families, with some jokes for the adults, while the book is squarely aimed at a child audience. The content of the story is an effective tribute to Roald Dahl’s work, but the writing style is somewhat mediocre, in my opinion. There are frequent mentions of narrowing, widening and rolling eyes. A female giraffe is described as an ‘it’. There are no amusing made-up words or eccentric rhymes. As with some of Dahl’s stories, significant words may be in UPPER CASE for emphasis, but HERE it was sometimes USED for words which did not require it, which WAS very annoying. I also missed the illustrations by Quentin Blake which I associate with Dahl books.

    Published by Puffin, 2023.

  • Review of ‘Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz’ by L Frank Baum

    The fourth book in the original Oz series is the weirdest so far, and that’s saying something! The premise of this one is that Dorothy, Zeb the farm boy, Jim the cart-horse and Eureka the kitten fall through the ground during an earthquake in California and find themselves in some bizarre countries with unfriendly inhabitants. They happen to meet up with their old friend the Wizard and his nine tiny piglets. Their quest to find the way out is mainly a series of battles, in which the Wizard’s revolvers, sword and humbug magic are very useful against such foes as vegetable people, invisible bears and wooden gargoyles. Towards the end of the story, they manage to reach Oz with the help of Ozma, the ruler, and reunite with all their friends before Dorothy, Zeb, Eureka and Jim have to go home. There is an interesting dialogue between Jim and the Saw-Horse as to whether a real horse or a wooden one is superior.

    Original cover showing the Wizard with piglets on his arms and Dorothy holding a kitten.

    It felt like the visit to Oz was added in to justify having ‘Oz’ in the title and that maybe it should have come earlier in the book to give us more time with some favourite characters. I liked that there is more background on the Wizard and an explanation of why Oz is named so. The author’s introduction suggests that many elements in the Oz sequels are inspired by readers’ suggestions, so perhaps readers asked for more about the history of Oz.

    Published in 1908. I read the copy from Project Gutenberg.

  • Review of ‘The Story of the Mince Pie’ by Josephine Scribner Gates

    This Christmas-themed children’s book has a moral and educational tone about the spiritual joys of giving to the poor and the origins of various foodstuffs, but through a surreal concept that to more sensitive readers may seem sinister rather than fun.

    Image from The Story of the Mince Pie, showing the cinnamon doll and the salt and pepper pots in front of a book.

    The story begins with a boy and his mother taking a freshly baked mince pie upstairs so it’s not nibbled by mice. As they watch, something odd happens. A crowd of dolls bursts out of the pie, each doll representing an ingredient. Each doll tells its story from when it was grown, to being harvested and put in the pie. They were very happy to be eaten. This was especially disturbing once we got to the mince, because it turns out that it’s not a sweet pie made with mincemeat, but a savoury one. It is very skimmed over how the mince is one day minding its own business in a field, enjoying life, and the next, it’s equally content to be chopped up and baked. Every so often, the dolls summon a ‘story sprite’ to narrate tales, including Johnny Appleseed, a sequel to ‘The Pied Piper of Hamelin’ that no one ever asked for, and a story of a wealthy little girl who is visited by a fairy, is shown poor children who have no presents in their stockings and then gives her possessions away to them.

    I will not ‘mince’ my words about this book. It was certainly unusual, but I really didn’t like it.

    Published in 1916 by Dodd, Mead & Co. Illustrated by John Rae.

    This was the final book in my Project Gutenberg random reads.

  • Review of ‘Momo’ by Michael Ende

    This quaint novel for children was published a few years before The Neverending Story. It has an odd charm but I’ve now read it twice and don’t think that it’s nearly as good. At its heart is a plea for people to stop rushing about trying to save time and to enjoy the simpler things, such as conversation, imaginative play and nature.

    Book cover of Momo, showing the character holding a tortoise.

    The story is set in an unspecified European city, where a little girl called Momo lives in a ruined amphitheatre. She is a great listener and has a lot of friends. Then the sinister men in grey from the bank arrive, whose currency is time. They find ways to speed up the pace of modern life to make people unhappy and give away their precious time. Momo finds herself alone. With the help of a future-seeing tortoise and a professor in charge of doling out time, Momo attempts to defeat the men in grey.

    I liked the pure creativity of the concept and the character of the tortoise, who communicates with writing that appears on her shell. Momo herself I wasn’t that keen on, because she was too kind and patient to be a real child. She had no backstory either and it seemed too improbable for a contemporary tale, even one about beings who control time, that a child in rags appears from nowhere and lives in a ruin without anyone intervening or finding out where she’s from.

    First published in Germany, 1973. This edition translated by J Maxwell Brownjohn for Puffin Books, 1985. Despite the Chris Riddell illustration on the front, it’s not illustrated inside.

  • Film of the book: ‘The Wizard of Oz’ (1939)

    This truly marvellous piece of cinematic history is based on L Frank Baum’s novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900). It wasn’t the first adaptation but it’s certainly the most popular, having brought many phrases, songs and images into popular culture.

    The film generally follows the book, simplified and with several changes. Some are fairly small, such as swapping the silver slippers for ruby ones to show off that glorious Technicolor, or Dorothy being a teenager rather than a little girl. I would say there are two very significant changes, however. One is the whole story being framed as a dream, after Dorothy hits her head during the cyclone and everyone she knows become characters in Oz. In the book, her adventure wasn’t a dream. It really happened! When she returns home, there’s a new house there to replace the one which landed in Oz. The other major change is the increased importance of the Good Witch (Glinda, an amalgamation of the Witches of the North and South) and the Wicked Witch of the West. The encounters with them are confined to episodes in the book, while in the film they are essential to the narrative of good and evil. I think the film is quite scary in some parts, while the book has dark moments but is not frightening.

    There are some oddities in the film. The trees which throw apples at people, the horses dyed in different colours, the snow which awakens Dorothy from a poppy-induced sleep (fun fact: the snow was made of asbestos) almost all of the beginning (the fortune teller, farm workers, the threat against Toto from a woman he bit) are not from the book. Although at the time of writing this, I have only read a few Oz sequels, so I can’t say for sure that these elements aren’t somewhere in the series.

    In the book, there are backstories to the characters of the Tin Man (that one is worthy of the Brothers Grimm) and the Flying Monkeys. The latter have an important role in the book, as they do the bidding three times of whoever wears the Golden Cap. In the film, they are exclusively the nasty servants of the Wicked Witch. It should also be noted that the Witch in the book is quite short, one-eyed and is afraid of the dark. Her film counterpart was given a ‘traditional’ witchy look, I suppose to make her more of a villain.

    The director was Victor Fleming, whose next film, released the same year, was Gone With the Wind. Dorothy’s house in Kansas was also ‘gone with the wind’, so that’s an interesting coincidence.

    In summary, a highly recommended adaptation. Some aspects of the plot and character development are better in the book, but you don’t need to know the book to love the film.

    Poster image in the public domain.

  • Film of the book: ‘Roald Dahl’s The Witches’ (2020)

    This unnecessary remake, directed by Robert Zemeckis, was entertaining but not a patch on Nicolas Roeg’s 1990 film. I’m unsure that Roald Dahl should actually be in the title (see also: Bram Stoker’s Dracula). The story was recognisably his book but in some ways it was very different. I also couldn’t help noticing how reliant it was on CGI, but the effects were not always wisely employed, making them somehow look as dated as those from 20 years ago.

    The story is transplanted from England and Norway to the 1960s American South, where a boy called Hero (it’s a cooler name than Luke, obviously) lives with his Grandma after his parents die in a car crash. She teaches him about witches and as coincidence would have it, they end up staying in a hotel where the witches are gathered to carry out their evil plot – turn all the children into mice. The narrative is reframed with an older Hero telling a group of children his story, which is revealed at the end to be a class being educated on how to get rid of the witches.

    Anne Hathaway plays a very bizarre Grand High Witch with an unspecified foreign accent. There are unnecessary additions, such as her Joker-style mouth, inky blood and Mr Tickle-like extendable arms. She was scary, I suppose, but a bit over the top. Octavia Spencer was a likeable new version of Grandma, a strong and dignified churchgoing woman who believes in the power of comfort food and loving kindness. I wasn’t sure, however, about the frequent references to her Christian beliefs, especially as she seems halfway towards being a witch herself, with her herbs and crystals and numerology. The witches are more strongly demonstrated to be agents of the Devil, for example, the Grand High staying in room 666 and her cat’s name being Hades. The witches in the book are seemingly nice ladies whom no one would suspect of being evil. In this film, they march about with synchronised movements and don’t even pretend to be nice. Bruno Jenkins is a different character also, as in the book he’s thoroughly horrible, while in this film he’s not too bad, although greedy.

    A few alterations were made to the plot which actually made better sense than the book. For example it turns out that the pet mouse that Luke, I mean Hero, already had, was in fact a child, Mary, who’d been transformed into a mouse. Hero, Mary and Bruno then become a team of three intelligent mice who, conveniently enough, all end up living with Grandma. Grandma herself was revealed to have a motive for destroying witches and the Grand High in particular, who’d transformed Grandma’s childhood friend into a chicken. And the cat Hades, who the Grand High mistreated for showing her up, gets his own back on her. One thing that fans of Dahl’s book should really like is that the ending is closer than the 1990 film. It reinforces what Grandma says frequently throughout the story, that it doesn’t matter what you look like as long as someone loves you.

    A film poster for Roald Dahl's The Witches showing Anne Hathaway as the Grand High Witch.

    Low-resolution poster image sourced from Wikipedia.

  • TV review: ‘Press Gang’ (1989 – 1993)

    A brilliant TV show about a group of teenagers who run The Junior Gazette, a newspaper for young people, Press Gang is well worth watching. Although it was targeted at teens, the maturity level and grounding in the real world means that it is suitable for adults too. Over five series, we follow the ups and downs in the lives of the newspaper staff, particularly the turbulent relationship between ruthless editor Lynda (Julia Sawalha) and wisecracking investigator Spike (Dexter Fletcher). Other characters include dodgy dealer Colin (Paul Reynolds), star journalist Sarah (Kelda Holmes) and loyal but confused Frazz (Mmoloki Chrystie). There is a lot of comedy in the programme but serious themes are explored, such as drugs, child abuse, suicide and terrorism. The filming style is interesting, often making use of flashbacks which keep you guessing. Quite often an episode will start with the aftermath and then unpick the story. The concluding episode is maddeningly good, ending the final series on a cliffhanger. Written by Steven Moffat and originally released on CITV, it’s an extremely impressive programme and if you have access to it I highly recommend that you check it out.

    Title screen showing Junior Gazette newspaper with 'Press Gang' stamped over it.

    Low-resolution image from Wikipedia, which I believe qualifies as fair use.