I liked this so much. Deceptively simple and unpretentiously weaving themes of literary life, nostalgia for childhood, illness, time, as well as family connection and continuity. There's more in it, too. A gentle and civilized piece of writing. It did me good in my soul to read it, so thank you.
Ah Enid Blyton. She was truly my favourite author throughout the 1960s, as I was becoming a more proficient reader. It is always difficult to judge an author from another place in time where values and lifestyles were so very different.
I don’t remember ever thinking that her writing was snobbish. I simply read them from the point of view that it was great to have adults ‘out of the way’ in the stories and for the children to have adventures and win every time. These books were written at a time where children were not over-praised and behavioural expectations on us were much higher. We were told things like “Yes you can go out to play in the street and over the park and common, but come in when the street lights come on”. “Don’t answer back”, “just do as you are told”, “do not interrupt adults when they are talking”, “the teacher hit you? what did you do wrong?” …. Few of our families owned cars, so we had to take public transport and find our own way around at a ridiculously young age. Can you imagine giving young children that amount of freedom in this day and age?
I read the Blyton novels from the point of view of already experiencing a lot of unsupervised free time but for me, the stories took freedom to the next level by including adventure and I loved them all and very clearly remember that I couldn’t wait for the break bell at school to go so that I could go and read another chapter. I have rarely enjoyed reading as much as I did at that time in my life. It did not bother me in the slightest when I read of children going to boarding school, having rich parents or housekeepers. I had none of those experiences, but I don’t remember feeling offended by the characters. I just enjoyed the books so much and loved the fact that they were in series so there was always another one to look forward to.
The fact is that language, traditions, morals, belief systems, all change over decades, as does language. When I re-read Enid Blyton to my own children in the 1980s, I upgraded the language and sometimes left out the fact that there was a housekeeper in the stories. My children love them and always begged for ‘one more chapter.’
Lots of older books, such as classical reads like Charles Dickens, Thomas Hardy, the Brontë sisters, are more difficult to read these days as they use language that is more complex than what we would use today.
For me, Enid Blyton books evoke such happy memories of reading for pure enjoyment and escapism and I will be forever grateful to her and other authors of the time, for stirring my imagination, helping me to improve my reading in a safe space, and not being introduced too early to adult concepts of life as well as allowing me to remain a child for that little bit longer.
Thank you for your wonderful reflection and for sharing your experience. I completely understand what you mean about her books evoking "memories of reading for pure enjoyment and escapism." It's what I felt in Mexico when I re-read the Twiddle stories.
Bravo! I wholeheartedly agree that my youth was made richer by reading the stories of Enid Blyton. I particularly enjoyed the Mallory Towers series. We were a working class family,with very little but like most people at the time we didnt know we were poor. I didn't notice these were middle class, wealthy girls at private school. There was no envy or scorn or disapproval of their privileged lifestyle. We didn't operate like that. In the days when the world didn't seem focused on childhood development we were often left to our own devices, to make our own fun. Reading was a popular pastime. We read books every single day. We lived in a different world. Children often used public libraries to get their reading material. I can thank Enid Blyton for engendering in me a love of reading.
I devoured her books. I also read the Jennings, Billy Bunter, and Just William books..popular at the time and all about middle class posh children.
It's just occurred to me that we laughed at Billy Bunter because he was fat! Fat shaming..or body shaming, we'd call that today.
However we didn't grow up obsessed with body shape or health and fitness back then. Gyms weren't a thing and we ate bread and jam for snacks or if we were hungry. Did I feel peeved we didn't drink "lashings of ginger beer"? Not at all. It sounded like a strange concoction to my eight year old self who got good old fashioned White's lemonade and a packet of Smith's crisps when Dad would leave us in the pub garden on a Saturday afternoon as he supped his pint in the bar and played cribbage with his pals. Neglect? No. That was a treat as we ran around unsupervised outdoors playing with other children. That was our reality back then and it can't be condemned. It was the norm for many families. Modern parents would be horrified.
Enid Blyton probably had no experience of our reality. We didn't read stories of suffering, misery, neglect, poverty. We left that sort of stuff on the library shelves.
D is for Dickens. Those Victorians had it bad.
We didn't venture there until much later.
Thanks to Enid Blyton and her engrossing stories and becoming an avid reader at a very young age, like many if my working class friends, I was able to relish the classics, serious literature and poetry in my youth and to this present day.
The past is a different world ; not always a wonderful world but we move on, learn and evolve.
I felt at the time the condemnation of Blyton was very unfair. Her books were universally loved. She did us a great service in keeping us entertained. To smear her character, her writing and reputation years after her popularity had waned seemed to me a very spiteful thing to do.
She was of her time.
Nobody cared. Nobody felt she did us wrong for not writing about working class struggle. We didnt know we were growing up struggling. Our parents might have felt the pinch but we didn't. No envy of others or needing to impress the neighbours in our world. We just got on with it, with very little and Blyton provided brilliant escapism. Childhood is a magical time. She entertained our young minds marvellously. Her books were addictive.
Thank you for your comment! Very interesting and enjoyable to read. I agree that Blyton provided us with outlets for our childish imaginations and for that she should be thanked, along with other authors who were doing the same.
Ah yes it was but I made a full recovery. Funnily enough last night when I couldn't sleep I started reading Ashes to Admin by Evie Long. She is a local writer in Hastings and has a job in the local council to carry out 'Section 46' funerals for people who die without anyone to pay for or arrange the funeral. I heard her talk at the Hastings Book Festival (where I volunteer) last year. She shared incredibly moving (and often funny - she is also a stand up comedian) stories about the lives of the people she had helped bury or cremate. Her parting message was to go and live our lives fully which links to your post on Mary Oliver who is often quoted 'Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?'
Oh dear, this is a rather crushing reflection, Jeffrey - deserved or not, it's always hard to lose a taste for something that used to give us comfort. I'm a BIG FAN of Wind in the Willows, including the TV shows they did - I would be absolutely fine reincarnated as Ratty or Mole (although most likely, Mr. Toad ;) for a life on the river - and the scene with the GG Pan is gold. I still reread The Hobbit and LotR every other year or so, and there are particular chapters I've reread probably going on triple digits.
Mr. Twiddle reminds me of Amelia Bedelia, the maid forever sketching the curtains instead of "drawing" them, and adding dust to the furniture instead of polishing...
The last time I was sick in bed, I read Margery Williams's The Velveteen Rabbit. When I got to the part where Skin Horse told the rabbit that for a toy to be REAL, it meant a child loved you for a long long time; and you probably got scuffed up a bit and became a bit shabby ...
It feels perfectly natural to choose easier reads when you're sick, or even going through tough times. This is something I've noticed with my reading habits. As far as Enid, she strikes me as a person of her time, I mean, her name is Enid. Not a popular name these days... It's easy to look back and wag our fingers, and I can't help but wonder what the future will admonish us for what we're doing now.
I read a lot of Blyton as a child and I was an adult when she was 're-evaluated' and so it didn't influence my view of her, which was that she wrote exciting books for children. I particularly enjoyed the Naughtiest Girl books and the group that was the Secret Seven. Her stories are what they are. They wouldn't be written now, but changing sensibilities don't change the pleasure they gave to children like me. Now if I'm unwell I turn to 'cosy' crime .
I'll read anything that comes in the British Library Crime Classics imprint, they're always a good bet and have lots of authors that really shouldn't be forgotten. In terms of modern writers I'm fond of Elly Griffiths who is never too gory and her Dr Ruth Galloway series had the most wonderful on/off relationship threaded through it. I'm sure lots of readers were hooked on Ruth and Nelson rather than the crimes! I also read Nicola Upson's series using Josephine Tey as the protagonist. They're well written, interesting relationships and well plotted. Plus they are set in 'my' period of 1930s to 1950s. They're not really 'cosy' but they aren't full of violence and nastiness. I don't enjoy the Richard Osman books - too ridiculous, but I am becoming a fan of Rev Richard Coles series.
Fascinating story Jeffrey. Also interesting to learn who kids in the UK were reading in the 60's. Marguerite Henry was one of my favorite authors in the 60's. I read all of her books and begged my parents to take me to Chincoteague Island to see the ponies.
I don't think she is very popular now. I tried to get my daughter to read her books but she wasn't as interested in them as I was. She also read way above her age level, so there was also that.
An introduction for me to Enid Blyton. Your writing, Jeffrey, travels through you childhood and life like that boat you refer to in a comment on "Transom". I simply ride with you on the words.
It is interesting the massive shift that has been happening in the culture over the last 20+ years across the western world. If you think about it, it is the continuation of the fall of the culture of aristocracy and imperialism over the last 100+ years starting with WWI or a little before. Of course, many are still trying to live it out. Older patterns die hard. Frankly, I have never heard of Enid Blyton till you mentioned her.
I think you're right about that shift, though as you suggest, many want to hold on to older patterns of being. In the UK our cult of aristocracy is a throwback to feudal culture, which some stubbornly cling to even without knowing it, perhaps.
If well done in an Arthurian kind of way it does loan a feeling of dignity to the whole society that I think people crave inwardly and want to emulate. We are all slowly finding our own inner dignity, our own spiritual nobility and sense of agency, and the ability to act autonomously and freely. But that takes work and imagination and it also takes calling out the bullshit and bias when needed when it diminishes everyone.
You’ve awakened memories of reading while sick as a child. My mother went to the library and brought back an armload of books that she strewed on the bed. I loved those afternoons of care and reading in a febrile state. Interesting how adults often disdain the books beloved by children. Thanks for this evocative post.
When I feel too ill, or just too tired to read one of my usual picks (mystery or science fictio), I find something on Audible to listen to. Sometimes, I set the sleep timer; sometimes I just let it run and the story often finds it’s way into my dreams.
I started listening to audiobooks many years ago when I had an hour-long commute (or longer) each way. Now, I listen to audiobooks because my eyes get tired before I am ready to stop reading.
"... her limited and prosaic use of vocabulary, formulaic plots, and liberal use of exclamation marks in place of dramatic prose.” Ouch." That 'ouch' says it all. You displayed their snobbery and responded so perfectly.
I liked this so much. Deceptively simple and unpretentiously weaving themes of literary life, nostalgia for childhood, illness, time, as well as family connection and continuity. There's more in it, too. A gentle and civilized piece of writing. It did me good in my soul to read it, so thank you.
Ah Enid Blyton. She was truly my favourite author throughout the 1960s, as I was becoming a more proficient reader. It is always difficult to judge an author from another place in time where values and lifestyles were so very different.
I don’t remember ever thinking that her writing was snobbish. I simply read them from the point of view that it was great to have adults ‘out of the way’ in the stories and for the children to have adventures and win every time. These books were written at a time where children were not over-praised and behavioural expectations on us were much higher. We were told things like “Yes you can go out to play in the street and over the park and common, but come in when the street lights come on”. “Don’t answer back”, “just do as you are told”, “do not interrupt adults when they are talking”, “the teacher hit you? what did you do wrong?” …. Few of our families owned cars, so we had to take public transport and find our own way around at a ridiculously young age. Can you imagine giving young children that amount of freedom in this day and age?
I read the Blyton novels from the point of view of already experiencing a lot of unsupervised free time but for me, the stories took freedom to the next level by including adventure and I loved them all and very clearly remember that I couldn’t wait for the break bell at school to go so that I could go and read another chapter. I have rarely enjoyed reading as much as I did at that time in my life. It did not bother me in the slightest when I read of children going to boarding school, having rich parents or housekeepers. I had none of those experiences, but I don’t remember feeling offended by the characters. I just enjoyed the books so much and loved the fact that they were in series so there was always another one to look forward to.
The fact is that language, traditions, morals, belief systems, all change over decades, as does language. When I re-read Enid Blyton to my own children in the 1980s, I upgraded the language and sometimes left out the fact that there was a housekeeper in the stories. My children love them and always begged for ‘one more chapter.’
Lots of older books, such as classical reads like Charles Dickens, Thomas Hardy, the Brontë sisters, are more difficult to read these days as they use language that is more complex than what we would use today.
For me, Enid Blyton books evoke such happy memories of reading for pure enjoyment and escapism and I will be forever grateful to her and other authors of the time, for stirring my imagination, helping me to improve my reading in a safe space, and not being introduced too early to adult concepts of life as well as allowing me to remain a child for that little bit longer.
Thank you for your wonderful reflection and for sharing your experience. I completely understand what you mean about her books evoking "memories of reading for pure enjoyment and escapism." It's what I felt in Mexico when I re-read the Twiddle stories.
Bravo! I wholeheartedly agree that my youth was made richer by reading the stories of Enid Blyton. I particularly enjoyed the Mallory Towers series. We were a working class family,with very little but like most people at the time we didnt know we were poor. I didn't notice these were middle class, wealthy girls at private school. There was no envy or scorn or disapproval of their privileged lifestyle. We didn't operate like that. In the days when the world didn't seem focused on childhood development we were often left to our own devices, to make our own fun. Reading was a popular pastime. We read books every single day. We lived in a different world. Children often used public libraries to get their reading material. I can thank Enid Blyton for engendering in me a love of reading.
I devoured her books. I also read the Jennings, Billy Bunter, and Just William books..popular at the time and all about middle class posh children.
It's just occurred to me that we laughed at Billy Bunter because he was fat! Fat shaming..or body shaming, we'd call that today.
However we didn't grow up obsessed with body shape or health and fitness back then. Gyms weren't a thing and we ate bread and jam for snacks or if we were hungry. Did I feel peeved we didn't drink "lashings of ginger beer"? Not at all. It sounded like a strange concoction to my eight year old self who got good old fashioned White's lemonade and a packet of Smith's crisps when Dad would leave us in the pub garden on a Saturday afternoon as he supped his pint in the bar and played cribbage with his pals. Neglect? No. That was a treat as we ran around unsupervised outdoors playing with other children. That was our reality back then and it can't be condemned. It was the norm for many families. Modern parents would be horrified.
Enid Blyton probably had no experience of our reality. We didn't read stories of suffering, misery, neglect, poverty. We left that sort of stuff on the library shelves.
D is for Dickens. Those Victorians had it bad.
We didn't venture there until much later.
Thanks to Enid Blyton and her engrossing stories and becoming an avid reader at a very young age, like many if my working class friends, I was able to relish the classics, serious literature and poetry in my youth and to this present day.
The past is a different world ; not always a wonderful world but we move on, learn and evolve.
I felt at the time the condemnation of Blyton was very unfair. Her books were universally loved. She did us a great service in keeping us entertained. To smear her character, her writing and reputation years after her popularity had waned seemed to me a very spiteful thing to do.
She was of her time.
Nobody cared. Nobody felt she did us wrong for not writing about working class struggle. We didnt know we were growing up struggling. Our parents might have felt the pinch but we didn't. No envy of others or needing to impress the neighbours in our world. We just got on with it, with very little and Blyton provided brilliant escapism. Childhood is a magical time. She entertained our young minds marvellously. Her books were addictive.
Thank you for your comment! Very interesting and enjoyable to read. I agree that Blyton provided us with outlets for our childish imaginations and for that she should be thanked, along with other authors who were doing the same.
Thank you for your comment! it's great to hear that Blyton inspired you to be a writer! And yes, that ever-present British class divide...
Hi Julie, thanks for your comment and wow, that sounds like quite a tough experience.
Ah yes it was but I made a full recovery. Funnily enough last night when I couldn't sleep I started reading Ashes to Admin by Evie Long. She is a local writer in Hastings and has a job in the local council to carry out 'Section 46' funerals for people who die without anyone to pay for or arrange the funeral. I heard her talk at the Hastings Book Festival (where I volunteer) last year. She shared incredibly moving (and often funny - she is also a stand up comedian) stories about the lives of the people she had helped bury or cremate. Her parting message was to go and live our lives fully which links to your post on Mary Oliver who is often quoted 'Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?'
Evie Long sounds amazing! Thank you for sharing
Oh dear, this is a rather crushing reflection, Jeffrey - deserved or not, it's always hard to lose a taste for something that used to give us comfort. I'm a BIG FAN of Wind in the Willows, including the TV shows they did - I would be absolutely fine reincarnated as Ratty or Mole (although most likely, Mr. Toad ;) for a life on the river - and the scene with the GG Pan is gold. I still reread The Hobbit and LotR every other year or so, and there are particular chapters I've reread probably going on triple digits.
Mr. Twiddle reminds me of Amelia Bedelia, the maid forever sketching the curtains instead of "drawing" them, and adding dust to the furniture instead of polishing...
Thank you, Pauline, for your kind words and for being here!
The last time I was sick in bed, I read Margery Williams's The Velveteen Rabbit. When I got to the part where Skin Horse told the rabbit that for a toy to be REAL, it meant a child loved you for a long long time; and you probably got scuffed up a bit and became a bit shabby ...
It made me cry ...
That's lovely! thank you for sharing, Yi Xue.
It feels perfectly natural to choose easier reads when you're sick, or even going through tough times. This is something I've noticed with my reading habits. As far as Enid, she strikes me as a person of her time, I mean, her name is Enid. Not a popular name these days... It's easy to look back and wag our fingers, and I can't help but wonder what the future will admonish us for what we're doing now.
Thank you, Lani. I agree that Blyton was in many ways a product of her times, just as we are. As you suggest, posterity will judge us too.
I read a lot of Blyton as a child and I was an adult when she was 're-evaluated' and so it didn't influence my view of her, which was that she wrote exciting books for children. I particularly enjoyed the Naughtiest Girl books and the group that was the Secret Seven. Her stories are what they are. They wouldn't be written now, but changing sensibilities don't change the pleasure they gave to children like me. Now if I'm unwell I turn to 'cosy' crime .
Thank you June. Who's your favourite cosy crime writer?
I'll read anything that comes in the British Library Crime Classics imprint, they're always a good bet and have lots of authors that really shouldn't be forgotten. In terms of modern writers I'm fond of Elly Griffiths who is never too gory and her Dr Ruth Galloway series had the most wonderful on/off relationship threaded through it. I'm sure lots of readers were hooked on Ruth and Nelson rather than the crimes! I also read Nicola Upson's series using Josephine Tey as the protagonist. They're well written, interesting relationships and well plotted. Plus they are set in 'my' period of 1930s to 1950s. They're not really 'cosy' but they aren't full of violence and nastiness. I don't enjoy the Richard Osman books - too ridiculous, but I am becoming a fan of Rev Richard Coles series.
I've not read any of them! in fact, I confess that I don't read crime fiction at all. I get my fix of crime drama from TV.
Could part of the difference be reading an old book (where you might expect/tolerate old values) versus reading an ebook?
Part of comfort reading is, well,the physical comfort of reading.
The Lord of the Rings was my go to comfort book for many years.
Two years ago, I had the COVID and binge read The Brothers Karamazov.
Thanks, James. That's a good point. There's something comforting about the physical book, isn't there?
And I'm seriously impressed that you could read the Brothers Karamazov with Covid!
Fascinating story Jeffrey. Also interesting to learn who kids in the UK were reading in the 60's. Marguerite Henry was one of my favorite authors in the 60's. I read all of her books and begged my parents to take me to Chincoteague Island to see the ponies.
Thank you Pamela! I don't know Marguerite Henry. Is she still popular?
I don't think she is very popular now. I tried to get my daughter to read her books but she wasn't as interested in them as I was. She also read way above her age level, so there was also that.
My kids never took to Enid Blyton, either.
An introduction for me to Enid Blyton. Your writing, Jeffrey, travels through you childhood and life like that boat you refer to in a comment on "Transom". I simply ride with you on the words.
Thank you, Mary. As a Woolf fan, I sometimes think of writing as a Voyage Out, like the title of her first novel.
It is interesting the massive shift that has been happening in the culture over the last 20+ years across the western world. If you think about it, it is the continuation of the fall of the culture of aristocracy and imperialism over the last 100+ years starting with WWI or a little before. Of course, many are still trying to live it out. Older patterns die hard. Frankly, I have never heard of Enid Blyton till you mentioned her.
I think you're right about that shift, though as you suggest, many want to hold on to older patterns of being. In the UK our cult of aristocracy is a throwback to feudal culture, which some stubbornly cling to even without knowing it, perhaps.
If well done in an Arthurian kind of way it does loan a feeling of dignity to the whole society that I think people crave inwardly and want to emulate. We are all slowly finding our own inner dignity, our own spiritual nobility and sense of agency, and the ability to act autonomously and freely. But that takes work and imagination and it also takes calling out the bullshit and bias when needed when it diminishes everyone.
You’ve awakened memories of reading while sick as a child. My mother went to the library and brought back an armload of books that she strewed on the bed. I loved those afternoons of care and reading in a febrile state. Interesting how adults often disdain the books beloved by children. Thanks for this evocative post.
My pleasure Rona. Those sound like amazing memories to cherish.
When I feel too ill, or just too tired to read one of my usual picks (mystery or science fictio), I find something on Audible to listen to. Sometimes, I set the sleep timer; sometimes I just let it run and the story often finds it’s way into my dreams.
Thank you Teri! Maybe I should give audio books or podcasts a try. I don't listen to either.
I started listening to audiobooks many years ago when I had an hour-long commute (or longer) each way. Now, I listen to audiobooks because my eyes get tired before I am ready to stop reading.
"... her limited and prosaic use of vocabulary, formulaic plots, and liberal use of exclamation marks in place of dramatic prose.” Ouch." That 'ouch' says it all. You displayed their snobbery and responded so perfectly.
Thank you, Jan!