We're A Happy Family - Or not. Some Thoughts on Children's Books Of The Past and Political Correctness.

There are times when I get the urge to forsake adult books and jump back into the literature I loved as a child. It's like climbing up the magic Faraway tree into another land, a land where there are no murders, no love triangles that go on infuriatingly for three hundred pages, no distopias, no zombie apocalypses, no dark, bleak fantasies, no novels about glamorous, powerful women or unhappy, unfulfilled ones that get their revenge or go missing or watch someone from a train. Here there is innocent fun, animals that talk, fairies and magical folk, schools that weren't at all like mine, and always a happy ending.

When I think back over the books I read as a child, I am thankful I seem to have read so much that has been loved for so long and that now is gone, changed, politically corrected, discouraged. I read it before the psychologists, teachers and other do-gooders got their hands on it. I read it as it was meant to be. I'm so glad. When I think back over some of my favorite books, I can see that I liked gentle books, not adventures. I wasn't the Swallows and Amazons type of girl. Narnia I loved, "The Wind In The Willows", "Heidi", "Black Beauty", "101 Dalmatians", "What Katy Did", "The Railway Children", I loved the tales of Beatrix Potter too.

But my all-time favorite, when I was very small and as I got older, was the work of Enid Blyton. From her tales of fairies, pixis and talking toys when I was very small, going on to Noddy of course, I was a huge fan and had everything Noddy I possibly could, then came the Adventures of the Wishing Chair books, the wonderful Magic Faraway tree books, the circus books, the Mallory Towers and St Clare's books. As I wasn't a serious adventure girl the only Enid Blyton I never got into were the Famous Five and other mysteries and adventures of that ilk, though we had some of them read to us at school. I loved her work. In an often tough childhood world they were safe, sunny stories, a wonderful, magical place to escape to. Here's a poem I learned of hers when I was very tiny, I've always remembered it because it just encapsulates for me how I felt when I could open a book, hide away, shut the door of reality behind me and go somewhere else for a while.

Now I'm Happy.

I'm hidden in my favorite nook,
I've got my very nicest book.
I've brought an apple red to eat,
I've kicked my sandals off my feet.
Oh please don't come and look for me,
Now I'm as happy as can be.

Well, after rather a tough week in lots of ways, healthwise and otherwise, I've been escaping into The Enchanted Wood and up The Magic Faraway Tree, both books in The Magic Faraway Tree series by Enid Blyton, and it's made me think for the hundred and fiftieth or so time. Millions of children today are still reading Blyton. But it's changed Blyton. Updated, altered, politically corrected Blyton. I have to say, in this sad day and age, some of the changes are necessary. But some are not, in my opinion, and it takes away from the story.

Ok, so Miss Blyton thought the worst thing that could happen was "A good spanking". well, I have to agree, as one that was regularly thus chastized in my childhood. For two reasons, that had to go. First and obviously, that kind of punishment for children is out of date these days. But secondly, snicker snicker, it might be open to a very unfortunate interpretation. So might the names Dick and Fanny, which are changed to Rick and Franny. And what about, in another series of books, the close friendship between Noddy and BigEars? Isn't that a little bit much? Oughtn't we to tone it down?

This kind of thing makes me angry. Children aren't born with dirty minds. It's grownup people who have these and teach children to have them. Children are born innocent, and the only way they can lose their innocence is if it's taken away from them. A book can't do that. And this stuff about Blyton being too middle or upper class makes me angry too. A good story is a good story.

And then there is taking out and changing things either for the sake of it, or to make things easier, as the editors may think. Why, in The enchanted Wood, were the birthday crackers turned into birthday presents that ran about? Ok, they don't have crackers in America, nor do they have porridge, cue a very awkward little sentence explaining that oatmeal = porridge. Children are possessed both of brains and tongues. If they don't understand what something is they can ask, and thus they will learn things! And how is the endearing little line spoken by a magical doll: "Are you my mummy?" offensive? removing that was completely unnecessary, unless Ms do-gooding editor thought the word "Mummy" smacked too much of the upper class. Grant me patience!

So what is the purpose of my rant? I'm glad these books remain in print today, even if they are changed, and for the worse in my opinion in many ways. But this whole movement to update and politically correct classic children's literature really worries and yes, saddens me. I learned a lot from reading Enid Blyton. Yes she can read like a maiden aunt at times, but she did give me a solid grounding in right and wrong, and, more importantly, she helped open the doors to my imagination, something I've needed all my life. When life has got too much at times, I've always been able to slip sideways into that other place, some people just don't have that, and I'm absolutely certain it was the magical books of my childhood that helped me to tap into that place inside myself. If you try to update, change and politically correct things too much you could end up throwing out the baby with the bathwater. If parents decide only to let their children read modern children's books, not the amazing classic children's literature I grew up with as well, I think that's an awful shame.

I heard a great song on this subject once. When I was a little girl I used to have a Beatrix Potter tape, it had the tales of Mrs Tiggy winkel and Peter Rabbit on one side, and Benjamin Bunny and The Flopsy Bunnies on the other. They were related by Vivien Leigh, as I have since found out, and they were fully casted and had songs. All the little bunnies used to sing this:

"We're a happy family, we're a happy family,
"and we live in the shade of the big oak tree.
"Flopsy and mopsy, how could they be sweeter?
"And funny little cottontail, and peter."

You have to know that, it will become clear why. I know that looks like it doesn't scan, but family was sung over thre notes: fam uh lee, like that. Well, I was at a concert by a wonderful comic cabaret duo called Kit and The Widow. Kind of the Flanders and Swann of the nineties they were. And they sung this song. The chorus went to the exact tune of the old Happy fam uh lee song, and the words? Well, they sure struck a chord. If you're from overseas or a lot younger than me, you might not get them, they contain references to both British children's books and children's tv programs that were much loved when I was a little girl and are now spoken of as if they were gross swear words. This is the genius of Kit and the Widow, they make you laugh while they have a serious point to make. I haven't heard this for years as I don't have the tape it was on anymore, but I'm pretty sure I've remembered them correctly. Kit Hesketh-Harvey and I certainly agree on this subject. My word, I do wish I had written this.

We're a happy family, we're a happy family,
Non-sexist, non-racist as we can be.
Mum quarries gravel, Dad's at home to greet her,
And plopped in front of Rowland rat is Peter.

Peter used to love his bedtime story,
Cuddled up with teddy safe in bed,
But children's literature is neo-tory,
Ideologically unsound they said.
Winnie's called Mandella since they changed is name from Pooh,
Kanga isn't stopping her career because of roo.
Andy Pandy's probably molesting Looby Loo.
Peter watches Grange Hill now instead.

We're a happy Family, we're a happy family
And we live in the shade of the GLC.
Dad pushes Bostick, Mum oils her repeater,
And watching cable hard core porn is Peter.

Late at night you'd see his bedroom light on.
Proper bookworm, ever on he'd forge,
Till they took away his Enid Blyton,
Save the one that's got that girl called George.
Noddy lives with BigEars in a rent assisted flat,
Union class reaction made poor Billy Bunter fat,
Now his name is monarchist, Just William has gone splat!
Life shall mirror art in our great nation.

Peter used to have discrimination,
Credited with brains that he might feed.
Now they vallium his imagination.
Bill and ben are smoking little weed.
What Katy did's small wonder since the system's fallocratic,
Sure Black Beauty's racist so that's banished to the attic!
Badger biffing weasel makes a world war automatic.
Peter's now forgotten how to read.

We're a happy family, we're a happy family,
But life mirrors art, there's the catch you see.
Mummy's in broadmore and Dadddy's now called Rita.
Bewildered and impoverished, is peter.