the Booktime Book of Fantastic First Poems

This book, edited by June Crebbin and illustrated by Emily Bolam and Nick Sharratt, is a collection of poetry aimed at getting children to read and enjoy it. I read it having seen it lying out at my parents' house after my niece and nephew had been to visit, and rather enjoyed it. All the poems, which are split between the two categories of "animals" and "nonsense", are understandably very short; and the book features inclusions from many well-regarded children's poets - John Agard, Eleanor Farjeon, Michael Rosen, Ted Hughes and Rose Fyleman all get at least one thrown in, although a fair few of the poems included here are anonymous. Overall a decent little book to introduce children probably aged 3ish to 7ish to poetry.

Artemis Fowl

This book is a novel for younger readers by Eoin Colfer - the first in a very long-running series that I have no intention of reading the rest of, as I have too much else to read. That said it is a very fun book. Without wanting to spoil the story, a potted summary would be: twelve-year-old Artemis Fowl, our eponymous criminal mastermind, may have bitten off more than even he can chew after he successfully kidnaps a fairy. If I'd been aware of this series when I was within its target audience range (of probably sevenish to fourteenish) I would have absolutely devoured it - as an adult reader it still has a lot going for it, Colfer is a witty and deftly skilled writer, the characters are well-sketched and interesting, the worldbuilding is colourful and original, and the plot ticks along at a very consistently exciting pace. Highly recommended for children who like a bit more of a wry, punchy tone to their fantasy.

the Dragon in the Library

This book by Louie Stowell is the first in a series of three novels following a ten-year old tomboy called Kit Spencer who gets peer-pressured into going to the library with her friends Josh and Alita, only to stumble upon magical secrets (of the variety that you can probably guess from the title) and commence training with head librarian Faith, who is also a wizard. Beyond that I won't spoil the plot, other than that the Evil Businessman Bad Guy is a very entertainingly Dahlesque villain. The prose is sharp and accessible, the story is well-paced and exciting, the arcane lore is actually quite well-explained and internally consistent, and the illustrations by Davide Ortu are pretty delightful and add a lot of character.

   Overall this is a cracking little children's novel - I bought it as a fifth-birthday present for my niece and pre-read it to make sure it was appropriate, but I reckon this would go down a bomb with any imaginative kids between the ages of five and nine or so. Would recommend.

the Last Battle

This book is C. S. Lewis's final instalment in The Chronicles of Narnia - and oh boy, if you were to read back through this month's worth of posts you would see me saying some pretty ungenerous things about this saga. Not undeservedly, I will say. As much love as I have for Lewis as a Christian apologist in my experience so far his fiction is streets behind that of the man who turned him to Christ in the first place.

    Plot-wise it's relatively simple - there's a sneaky ape called Shift who finds the skin of a dead lion and persuades his donkey friend called Puzzle to wear in and pretend to be Aslan so that he can take rulership of Narnia to his own benefit. King Tirian, a descendant of Caspian, tries to clear matters up but soon becomes embroiled in the larger schemes. Eventually Eustace and Jill (from prior books) are summoned and start making more headway in unravelling the conspiracy, eventually even summoning as a bonus Peter, Edmund and Lucy (Susan is not allowed as she apparently doesn't believe in Narnia anymore) to help thwart the plot. Which they do. The actual eponymous "last battle" is extremely short and small-scale, even if it's very important for the story itself - but what makes this book a worthy conclusion to a seven-novel saga is its final three or four chapters. Basically, having achieved everything that that world was meant to, Narnia just ends, under the controlling supervision of Jesus Aslan. As disparaging as I may at times have been of this series throughout these posts I genuinely do think their moral core is incredibly strong and edifying, especially for children readers or listeners, and this final segment is where in my opinion that shines through the strongest - this last bit of the saga where Narnia is being wrapped up back into the fabric of creation is not only the most powerful part of the series but some of the most beautiful allegorical fantasy I've read anywhere. Lewis is very clearly trying to communicate some of the boundless hope found in Christian concepts of the transition between the dying creation of post-Fall Earth and new-Built Heaven - and it shows, in glorious imagery and a resoundingly satisfying conclusion to the whole series of seven novels.

    So, as I said in my post about the first of these, and as I do for all sequences of posts about series of books rather than singulars, I have been reserving my overall reflections until this last one.* Thankfully that doesn't mean I have to spew out an absurdly long thing here as my totality of thought looking back on the Chronicles of Narnia are pretty simple. I could even do it in a mere four point-paragraphs. Here goes:

1. Clive Staples Lewis is a far better non-fiction writer than he is fiction. I mean, I haven't read all his fiction, but I haven't read all his non-fiction either, but on balance I think this is a fair assessment of just how the communicative parts of his brain work best. Though that said, The Screwtape Letters is technically fiction and is my favourite thing of his that I've read to date... so... don't take me seriously.
2. All of these characters are pretty dull. Their flaws are obvious and superficial if they exist at all, their approach to problems is pragmatically plot-development-oriented, and they all have they same manner of dialogue. All except Jesus Aslan, of course, but he's a special case.
3. Speaking of Jesus Aslan, it bears to mention that fellow Inkling Tolkien was not a fan of the Narnia series because, among other given reasons, he thought its religious allegory was too on-the-nose. And he was right. But then the two authors had different purposes; J.R.R. was seeking to create an agelessly original yet academically-legitimate mythology for the English peoples, while C. S. just wanted to make children excited about discipleship in a new, engaging way. Different strokes, innit? (see image below)
4. Overall recommendation: I think I would have enjoyed this series far more if I'd been at all familiar with it as a child. Obviously I saw the movies as the were coming out in the early 2000's, but though my parents read the whole series to most of my siblings they never did with me - I was already in too deep with my own literary taste, I suppose. But that said I do think that Christian allegory or not this is a very rich and entertaining series of fantasy novels, that even despite its evangelical bent is by no means proselytizing literature and can be enjoyed on its own merits as fantastical story, with relatable (if arguably a bit predictable) protagonists and a lot of thematic & plot developments that can be on their own terms pretty thought-provoking to a young mind.

So yeh, overall, I don't think this seven-novel series quite deserves the hype it seems to have of being in the same ilk as Tolkien and Le Guin for the best fantasy series of the 20th century, but it has a lot going for it and I can easily imagine younger readers absolutely eating this up. Go for it.

* One additional thing I will say - the editions I were reading was a box-set of seven separate volumes as opposed to the single volume linked in these posts, but I couldn't find it in online booksellers. I don't know about the linked version but mine had copies of all the original black-and-white illustrations from the first-published novels - and while I appreciate their inclusion I can't say that they were of a notable quality and their addition didn't really do much for me.

the Silver Chair

This book is the penultimate instalment (in chronological reading order anyways) of C. S. Lewis's Narnia series, and is HANDS-DOWN the weirdest. Eustace, from the last book, along with his vaguely-apparently-friend-from-school Jill, gets sucked back into Narnia in what seems to me an obfuscatorishly strange train, but never mind; once back there Prince Caspian is now in old age, so Trumpkin the dwarf and Puddleglum the marsh-wiggle are the main guides around the magical world; there's the eponymous silver chair with an ancient curse on it, at one point they go way deep underground into the realm of 'earthmen', Jesus Aslan shows up eventually - everything you may expect by this point from a Narnia novel. I did enjoy reading this more than most of the rest of the series, but I think largely out of a sense of bewilderment than actually being impressed by the prose or the story being told.

the Voyage of the Dawn Treader

This book is the fifth instalment of C. S. Lewis's Narnia saga, and though it follows directly on from the worst (the last one) it is a breath of fresh air when it comes to narrative imagination. Lucy and Edmund (who you may know from prior instalments) along with their odious cousin Eustace are sucked once more into the magical realm, where they find themselves on a pretty questionable sea-voyage under the captainship of Caspian (from prior book) who is on a quest to re-discover the lost lords of Narnia. This book is pretty episodic, with chapters or chunks of chapters having very little bearing on each other but telling interesting little self-contained bits; that said it is an engrossing and entertaining part of the overall Chronicles, and without wanting to give too much of a spoiler - the voluntary, even excited, sacrifice made by Reepicheep toward the end was the most emotional I've gotten reading this whole series so far. So there's that, I suppose.

Prince Caspian

This book is the fourth chronological instalment of C. S. Lewis's Narnia saga, and in my opinion by far the simplest to summarise. Basically the same four kids from book two (see earlier this month in the blog) get whisked back to Narnia, where it turns out that despite having been a very short time for them in England, 1300 years have passed there, and the realm is now in crisis as the usurper Miraz has displaced the true heir to the throne, the eponymous. You know. So obviously Peter and Susan and Edmund and Lucy have to track him down and help him battle to reclaim rule over Narnia and they do, without much by way of real narrative struggle. I mean, there are obstacles, but written in such a way that even a six-year-old having this read to them could see no real reason to worry as the plot armour of Good Prevailing is so thick. The worst of the series so far.

the Horse and His Boy

This book is the third of C. S. Lewis's Narnia saga, and arguably the weirdest. Though that is very arguable indeed, as all of them are arguably pretty weird. What's weird about this one though is that is has almost zero bearing on the characters or plot of the other six novels in this saga. It follows Shashta, a poor boy from Calormen, who escapes slavery with a talking horse called Bree, eventually meeting up with a girl called Aravis (who also has a talking horse) with whom he tries to escape to Narnia in the far north but along the way they get into all kinds of political scrapes and intrigue. Oh, and Jesus Aslan shows up briefly of course. I really don't know exactly what Lewis was trying to say with this book. It adds virtually nothing to the larger saga, even thematically, as everything that is communicated through subtext is replicated better in other places across this series of seven shortish novels. This one does have a handful of good moments though. Don't take my perplexity at its existence as an excuse to skip it if you're actually reading through the Narnia saga.

the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

This book by C. S. Lewis is the second (by chronological reading order) book in the Chronicles of Narnia series, and easily the most famous from that world. To the point that even in a mere plot-summary post I don't see the point in writing all that much as surely anyone literary enough to be reading a blog about books will be at least tangentially familiar with the plot of what is, arguably, the most famous children's fantasy novel of the 20th century perhaps after The Hobbit, so yes, this will be a short one.

    Siblings evacuated from London during the blitz, Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy wind up staying with an eccentric elderly relative. During a game of hide-and-seek one of them (in case you're lucky enough to be unfamiliar I won't say which) discovers a whole other magical world hidden in the back of a wardrobe, but the other siblings don't believe this. Until they all get there, then they do. But there's an evil witch who wants to kill Jesus Aslan. So the children have to make so very mature decisions and lead a war against evil in the realm of Narnia - which, shock and horror, they win, so they get to become monarchs despite only having been in the place for like a few days. I don't know. Don't even get me started on the literary-political implications of the way C. S. Lewis treats monarchy in this series of novels. Anyway, NEXT

the Magician's Nephew

This book is the first novel (not in writing order but in reading order which is the order I read them in and thus am blogging them in) in C. S. Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia series. As I tend to do with all series of books, I will reserve my overall reflections and recommendations until the last post in the series, and here simply resign myself to a spoiler-free-as-can-be plot summary.

    Digory and Polly, two childhood friends, are playing in a garden when uncle Andrew invites them into his attic and tricks them into touching magic rings that transport them into another world. The exact otherness of these worlds are not really specified by the narrative, but they go through several different dimensions of place until they run into a scary lady called Jadis, who then tags along with them, back to England which she tries to take over, until they end up in a new place - Narnia, in the process of its being created ex nihilo by Aslan the Jesus-lion. Jadis has a hissy fit and throws away the lamp-post she'd been using as a weapon; it grows into a whole new lamp-post - then Aslan says hello to Digory and Polly, and uncle Andrew and the cab-driver who for some reason has come with them, Aslan summons the cab-driver's wife from England and makes her and him the new King and Queen of Narnia, and Digory and Polly go back to normal reality with uncle Andrew. It's a weird story, I know. I've left out a few details but nothing that really has any bearing on the rest of the books in the series other than that you should know that Jadis is still annoyed and knocking about Narnia somewhere, and Andrew stole a magical apple that he planted into his garden that might someday grow into a tree large enough that you could, if you wanted, make a wardrobe out of its wood... and one has to wonder whether said wardrobe would maintain some kind of magical linkage to the realm of its origin?

George's Marvellous Medicine

This book by Roald Dahl is a fucking shitshow, let's be honest. So there's a boy called George who lives a pretty happy life on a farm with his family, all of whom he gets along pretty well with, except his Grandma - who is never actually abusive, she can't really be as she's too disabled to leave her chair - but is sometimes a bit harsh to him. Which drives George, one day, when the rest of his family is out, to bungle together every single random chemical ingredient* he can find in the house, blend it up, and replace his Grandma's medicine with this new concoction. It does not go well. Grandma grows to be like forty feet tall or something. George's dad, when he gets back, isn't concerned for his mother-in-law's wellbeing - he's excited about the prospect of this new medicinal invention for farming methods. George tests the medicine on a chicken and a cow and they both also grow to ridiculous sizes. George's dad gets so excited that he starts trying to throw together a patent whereby he can somehow in the future control a farm of oversized livestock - but George runs out of medicine. And can't remember exactly how he made it in the first place. His dad is upset, but optimistic - and prompts George to try again, which the boy does: only for his new concoction to immediately cause Grandma to shrink so much that she literally cannot be seen by the human eye.

   The end. Dark, right? What, you wanted spoiler warnings? Roald Dahl is basically public domain at this point babe, don't come to a blog specifically about books and complain that a post like this spoiled it for you. Anyway. I would recommend this book as a bedtime story for children between threeish and sevenish, as it's incredibly dark and also funny as fuck.

* I will be frank, the chapter where he's deciding what to put into it is hilarious.

Matilda

This book by Roald Dahl is so much of a classic that I'm not even going to devote more than a single sentence to a summary of its plot - as I did with the other Dahl classics that I've read it the last few days. If any blog-followers are curious for this recent diversion in content, I am staying at my parents' house for Christmas and they have a Roald Dahl anthology, and I thought it might be funny to revisit some of my childhood stories for blogging purport. Anyway, if you need a fuller explication of the story of this one than I am offering here, go ask Danny Devito.

   Matilda is the neglected child of a neglectful family who takes her love for books to her impoverished teacher, Ms Honey; albeit under the stern gaze of abusive headmistress Mrs Trunchbull - but eventually discovers she has psychic powers, so she fucks everyone over and makes her own life go as well as she pretty much wants.

   Wow, yeh - that was only one sentence. And I thought it was going to become a bit overlong. But yeh, that's the plot. Like most Dahl stories, yes, this is very dark in places - there is violent and emotional abuse, with both Matilda and Ms Honey and a few other characters being the victims; but it's all okay in the end because little miss bookworm can move things with her mind so she gets to manipulate events to the desired outcome. The more I think about Roald Dahl stories as an adult the less I get what message he was really going for, you know?

The BFG

This book by Roald Dahl is one of the less-dark of most of most of his oeuvre, if I remember rightly, which is odd because it does actually feature (or at least mention) quite a lot of human people being eaten alive.

   Story in a nutshell: an insomniac orphan called Sophie is kidnapped by a giant with big ears and a trumpet, who takes her back to his homeland. Here he introduces himself as the BFG (Big Friendly Giant - even though, he is the least big of all the giants, and the only friendly one of all of them, so none of his nomenclature semantics are particularly helpful overall) and reveals, with much relief to Sophie, that unlike the other giants (who eat humans every night) he is strictly vegetarian - subsisting, it seems, on weird warty cucumber things and a particularly-odd strain of soda that makes you have orgasmic farts with every gulp. Sophie accepts this, and learns to trust the BFG further when he hides her from the other giants - who are in the habit of bullying him. Later on the BFG shows Sophie what he does for a job (why, it is never shown - goodness knows who pays him to do this if anyone); catching dreams in bottles and spitting them through his trumpet into the ears of sleeping humans. Sophie has a brainwave: "if we give the Queen a nightmare about giants coming and eating people, she'll do something about it!" Daft, I know. But this is what happens. This is Roald Dahl man, not... I dunno, Brian Catling. So the BFG takes Sophie to see the Queen of England, they have breakfast (which is a whole chapter, can you believe - not even Tolkien was ever THAT self-indulgent) and she agrees to set the military up to catch the giants next time they come to England to eat people. Surprise, it works, and the giants are captured and thrown into a pit. Basically the end.

   I saw a cartoon of this when I was like six, saw the more recent movie adaptation like four years ago, and I must have read the book (this time included) at least half a dozen times; and I still don't know why it's a popular story. This is pure silly. Your kid might like this. I do not. If I was your kid - I did not.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

This book is the final instalment of J.K. Rowling's series. The reason I have said so little about these books in my posts is that the franchise is so ubiquitous that it seems redundant to offer an explanation. Also I'm not going to give a lengthy chunk of reflection on "separating the art from the artist" when it turns out that the author of a series I enjoyed quite a lot as a kid (hence my recent rereading of it - I wanted to see if it was as good as I remember) has committed herself tooth-and-nail to making life painful for trans folks; my reason for not doing this is that Jessie Gender has already done it very thoroughly.* Weirdly for such a self-proclaimed defender of women, this doesn't seem to have filtered through to JK's female characters, as Caroline Easom elucidates (she also has a very long video breaking down the thirty characters who teach children the worst lessons). Moreover, I'm not going to dissect all the problematic elements in the books themselves, because hoots has already done that perfectly (see too - Ember Green also covers its ableism) - and I'm not even going to complain about how the magical franchise has morphed into a grotesquely needless corporate behemoth, since verilybitchie has that covered - nor even the reasonable assertion that the series isn't even that original, as Caelan Conrad explains, or even the far more in-depth critique that Sheep In The Box has done, not to mention the worldbuilding problems. If you're curious, yes I did enjoy rereading them, but I was also far more aware of ways in which they kind of suck more than its fandom gives it credit for. To wrap up I'll leave you with Ursula K. Le Guin's reaction to reading the first one: “I read it to find out what the fuss was about, and remained somewhat puzzled; it seemed a lively kid’s fantasy crossed with a school novel, good fare for its age group, but stylistically ordinary, imaginatively derivative, and ethically rather mean-spirited.” I don't think I'm likely to ever feel the need to revisit this series, so I'm giving all seven to my Hungarian friend who is weirdly obsessed with the stories but has never read the actual books.

* I know I'm linking a LOT of YouTube video essays in this post but honestly the great folks of leftist YouTuber communities have done far more to dissect all that is wrong with Harry Potter far more than I could hope to. I'll unapologetically keep editing this post to add new ones when I stumble across them.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

This book is the sixth in J.K. Rowling's series.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

This book is the fifth, and in my opinion the best, of J.K. Rowling's series.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

This book is number four in J.K. Rowling's series.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

This book is the third in J.K. Rowling's children's fantasy series.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

This book is the second in J.K. Rowling's very famous series.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

This book is the first in J.K. Rowling's series, and it needs no introduction or explanation. So I won't give you either.