A spot of summer comfort

At long last we have the promise of warm weather. The English summer can be a fleeting and momentary burst of warmth, sparkling light and soft breezes that need to be embraced before the wind changes and torrents of rain set in. Despite this, when I think of childhood summers spent meandering the shores of the Cornish coast it always seems that summer was endless, boiling and a period of complete freedom. Months spent without shoes, eating outside and splashing around in any water I could find rolled on and on until September dawned and those halcyon days drifted off on another path that I wasn't on anymore.

To get me through the endless months of waiting for the summer holiday I would bury myself in the Redwall books by Brian Jacques. Redwall is the name of an Abbey which is at the heart of each book in the series and its inhabitants are woodland creatures. There are now 20 books in the series and I am only one behind as I do still read them. I admit, I no longer read them with the complete absorption of my 10,11,12 year old self but they are comforting and it's a bit of my childhood from which I can't quite let go.

Each book in the series is a heady tale of adventure, quests, battles and feasts. And it was always the feasts which particularly gripped me. My mouth watered as I read about crumble and meadowcream, strawberry fizz, deeper'n'ever pie (favoured by the moles), shrimp and hotroot soup (loved by otters), October Ale and candied chestnuts. I would lazily dream about feasts in the Abbey orchard whilst I was in maths lessons, wishing myself there with all my heart.

Books we read as children are perfect to re-visit when we need some comfort reading. I haven't gone back to the start of the series for a long time so I am looking forward to spending balmy summer evenings in the garden with a glass of Pimm's whilst revisiting my old friends at the Abbey.

A week of enchantment

This week has been stuffed with a myriad of experiences. Last weekend I took up arms and decided to paint the bathroom - which I had no idea would take me two days! Such a small room but so much work. Anyway, my friend who is currently writing a children's book wanted to go to Kensington Palace as it has turned itself into the Enchanted Palace - perfect for inspiration. The exhibition sounded right up my street (as what girl does not like fairytales?) so I downed tools and met her in the Orangery Cafe for tea and cake before entering the magical palace.

The exhibition focuses on a quest to find seven princesses, all of whom were former residents of the palace. You are given a map to guide you through the rooms and a pencil to write down the names. The rooms all take on an individual theme relating to the life of a royal princess. Not all are happy, for instance one room focused on the danger of childbirth to both mother and child. My favourite room was the room of 'Dancing Princesses' which was lit with blue light and had life size trees dotted around so it was like entering a moonlit enchanted wood. In a glass case was a beautiful dress with red ballet shoes and a tiara which was worn by Princess Margaret, the Queen's sister.

The room obviously referenced Hans Christian Anderson's The Red Shoes which is a favourite fairytale of mine. In addition I adore the 1948 film starring Moira Shearer. My sister bought it for me for my birthday this year and watching it is a regular Sunday afternoon ritual. So the room of 'Dancing Princesses' was like walking into my dream bedroom - I am not sure I will be able to convince Mr Bell that we should turn our bedroom into a homage to The Red Shoes; but it's worth trying?

On Tuesday it was our monthly V&A Women's Institute meeting which is always enjoyable but was made especially so by the guest speaker who is the blogger and author Jane Brocket. Jane gave a wonderful talk about how she has managed to turn her creativity and domestic skilfulness into a full time occupation. She brought in some of her quilts to show us and I am now totally inspired. For the past few months I have been doing patchwork by hand. I am not a natural at sewing so, inspired by Jane, I am going to throw caution to the wind and buy a sewing machine so that I can have fun instead of fiddling about with papers and tacking and all that malarky.

I also acquired some new books this week which is a pretty normal occurrence, however this transaction did involve me having to lay my pride to one side as I have purchased a book with the worst cover ever. It is truly horrendous and, frankly, it's embarassing that I own such a book when I am such a snob about my volumes. Still, it was only 50p in a charity shop and I will be secreting it away in a dark corner of a very dark room as soon as I have read it.

The offending article is After the War by Frederic Raphael who wrote The Glittering Prizes, a book which I really enjoyed so hopefully After the War will be just as good despite sporting the cheesiest of covers.



I also bought some other 50p books: The Way Through The Woods by Colin Dexter, an Inspector Morse novel so pure indulgence as I love Morse, The Girls of Slender Means by Muriel Spark as I really enjoyed both The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie and A Far Cry From Kensington and another copy of the children's book Redwall by Brian Jacques. I now have three copies but it was only 50p and I couldn't bear to leave it alone on the shelf with no guarantee of a good, appreciative home. I will do a full post on Redwall as I have loved the Redwall books since I was about ten years old and they are partially responsible for my obsession with bells - along with, The Bell by Iris Murdoch, the actual sound of church bells and various other bell-related experiences.

As for Persephone Books Reading Week, I have really enjoyed reading everyone's Persephone Books related posts. I am part of the way through House-bound which is, true to Persephone form, a great read. Fingers crossed Claire and Verity will host another reading week later this year as I don't think I can wait until 2011 for another excuse to buy more Persephones!

The enchantment continues today as I am about to go for afternoon tea at Beas of Bloomsbury with Rachel (Book Snob) and we are meeting Claire, Verity and a whole (insert collective noun) of book bloggers in, my favourite part of London, Bloomsbury. Actually, what is the collective noun for book bloggers?

A new baby and a new reading adventure

This is a post to chime in a new arrival on the literary scene - my two week old niece. She is the most beautiful baby and has brought so much joy to our family as she is the first baby to be born since I arrived 25 years ago. As the granddaughter, daughter and niece of three women who live, breathe and devour books she has no choice - she has to love reading. It is a legacy that we will bestow (force) upon her and over the past two weeks I have already been dreaming about trips to the library, bookshop and theatre with her.

My sister, I should add, claims that she is Librarian in Chief - oho, how I laugh at this weak assertion. I am planning my literary coup as I write this. She has no idea.

Some of my earliest memories are trips to the library in Chichester, reading with my mother and reading with my sister (who always did excellent voices). There are so many fantastic children's books that I want to read to my niece (if I can send my sister on a fool's errand), many of which I still know off by heart.

I can recite Each Peach Pear Plum in its entirety - not the sexiest party trick, but a party trick nevertheless. One of my ultimate favourites (and I still have this) was The Jolly Postman and, for my favourite time of year, The Jolly Christmas Postman. These lead me on to Burglar Bill, Peace at Last and the First Picture Book by Althea which my sister and I obsessed over. It is now out of print (published in 1978) and it is the most extraordinary book of illustrations and stories. We still have our copy at our mother's house in safe-keeping where it is falling apart. We go through it together now and when I look at a particular illustration of some hedgehogs in leaves I truly feel like I am at home. I am small again and joy and wonder can be found in a simple picture.

My ultimate favourite picture book has to be the very cool feminine tract Princess Smartypants by Babette Cole. I vividly remember my mum giving it to me, and she has called me her Princess Smartypants ever since (she always was sarcastic). Smartypants does not want to get married, why should she? She is rich, beautiful and can do anything. But her father orders that she has to find a husband and a string of weedy, dweeby, wimpy Prince's try to woo Smartypants by completing the tasks that she sets them. Of course, they can't. Her man-eating slugs attack them, her glass tower is too slippery and she is far too good at out roller-skating them at her roller disco. But then Prince Charming turns up and he can do the lot. Will she succumb and marry him? Babette Cole also wrote Prince Cinders which is equally as fantastic and witty. These will definitely be on my niece's bookshelves.

It is so exciting to think of all the book discoveries that she will make, to watch her find joy in words and stories and also to learn from her. Sometimes I feel that as adults we forget to see things for the first time, we miss simple pleasures and we find it too easy to speed through reading experiences. There are few, if any, books that I have revisted over and over again as an adult but I still open my picture books when I go home and I must have read some of them hundreds of times. Obviously, it is easier and more fleeting to read a 20 page, rhyming picture book again and again than it is to read a 400 page novel but the memory of reading those first books is somehow more lasting, prominent, comforting and, ultimately, exciting.

I wonder which will be my niece's favourite and which will be her worst. One of my sister's favourite was Dogger which absolutely scarred me for life as I couldn't bear the thought of losing my cuddly toy. I only hope I don't have to read this to baby at bedtime, although I think the Librarian in Chief will make sure it is on the nursery shelf.

What books were on your nursery shelf? Any that you absolutely hated? Do you still read your favourites? It would be great to know as I am on the hunt for the best picture books around to usurp my sister and steal the Chief Librarian crown - it's going to be a difficult task but I'm not called Smartypants for nothing.

A Christmas Ritual

Kay Harker and Cole Hawlings with the Box of Delights copyright BBC Images

Aside from Christmas lunch and receiving a stocking each year, my most important Christmas ritual is watching the BBC adaptation of The Box of Delights. Watching it marks a home-coming, as I dim the lights and snuggle under a blanket with a hot cup of tea to watch it.

It is set in 1934 during the run up to Christmas and Kay Harker is on his way home from boarding school for the Christmas holidays. Whilst changing trains for Tatchester (the local Cathedral city) Kay bumps into an old Punch & Judy man, Cole Hawlings who is keeper of the elixir of life and a magic box, the box of delights. This chance encounter pulls Kay into a series of adventures as Cole warns him that the 'wolves are running' and entrusts Kay with the box in the hope to outwit the evil and power hungry Abner Brown who wants box and will stop at nothing to get it.

Kay's guardian, Caroline Louisa, has invited the Jones children to stay, all of whom become embroiled in Kay's adventures. Kay's world is turned upside down when both Caroline Louisa disappears and he realises that Abner Brown is using the cover of a well respected local clergyman who runs a theological college. The local policeman does not believe Kay's pleas for help, so it is up to Kay and the Jones children to defeat Abner.

Abner is prepared to 'nobble and scrobble' his way through the entire population of Tatchester to get the box - he mistakenly thinks that Cole may have given the box to the Bishop so the clergy are thrown into his dungeon one by one. Preparations for the one-thousandth midnight mass at Tatchester Cathedral are thrown into disarray as Abner and his sinister gang wreak havoc.

Will the one-thousandth midnight mass go ahead? Will Abner and his gang be caught? What happens to the box?

The series epitomises cosy Christmas viewing. All the elements that are essential for a traditional Christmas pepper the series, from Kay Christmas shopping in the snow to dancing around the Christmas tree and the children building a snowman, it diffuses an atmosphere of sheer Christmassy delight. The soundtrack is partly taken from Victor Hely-Hutchinson's A Carol Symphony so snippets from 'A First Nowell' and other favourite carols add to the drenching in Christmas that this series so happily gives the viewer.

I have to confess that I have never read the book by John Masefield which, I feel, should be rectified but I just love the BBC series so much and for me the television series came first which means that when I read the book I will struggle not to see the actors in my head.

This is the time that I start getting really excited about Christmas. Plenty of Advent calendar doors have been opened, the Christmas shopping is done and the Christmas party season is in full swing. At the end of a couple of weeks of work parties and Christmas drinks with friends (I can never tire of mulled wine) I will sink down into my mum's sofa a few days before Christmas, with the aforementioned cup of tea, and watch the Box of Delights to take me back to the delicious childhood excitement that Christmas is coming and magical adventures are around the corner - if only I could find that box.

Book Review - The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge

Last week I wasn't very well - just a seasonal cold but having the sniffles made me long for comfort. I wanted comfort food (fish pie), comfort television (Sense and Sensibility with Kate Winslet and Emma Thompson) and comfort reading. I had my fish pie and watched Sense and Sensibility but I couldn't find suitable reading material until my Mummy rescued me.

Mum gave me a 'red cross' parcel full of goodies and at the bottom I found a copy of The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge and I snuggled into my sofa, under a blanket and started to read.

First published in 1946, The Little White Horse is a wonderful children's novel that tells the story of Maria Merryweather and her adventures when she goes to live at Moonacre Manor. The book opens with Maria Merryweather in a carriage with her governess, Miss Heliotrope and her King Charles Spaniel, Wiggins. Recently orphaned, Maria is on her way to live with her cousin Sir Benjamin Merryweather at Moonacre Manor in the village of Silverydew somewhere in the West Country.

Maria arrives at Moonacre and thinks that it is 'so beautiful that it seemed hardly to be of this world'. She arrives when the grounds are covered in moonlight,

"And for a fleeting instant, at the far end of a glade, she thought she saw a little white horse with flowing mane and tail, head raised, poised, halted in mid-flight, as though it had seen her and was glad."

Miss Heliotrope could not see the little white horse and from this moment on Maria is determined to see the horse again to prove that it is real. Maria settles in to Moonacre Manor, Sir Benjamin is welcoming and loving and she and Miss Heliotrope find that they enjoy living there. Before long, Maria starts to unravel some of the mysteries and she finds out that the sadness that hangs over Silverydew is caused by the Men from the Dark Woods who steal their livestock and terrorize Merryweather Bay.

Every generation a Moon Princess comes to live at Moonacre Manor and it falls to her to defeat the Men from the Dark Woods - whose evil behaviour is the result of a long, long feud between the Merryweathers and the Cocq de Noir family. So far, none of the previous Moon Princesses have succeeded as their own pride got in the way. Maria discovers that to defeat the Men from the Dark Woods she must enlist the help of a pauper whom she loves. Handily, she loves Robin the local shepherd boy and together with help from Wrolf the dog/lion, Periwinkle the pony, Zachariah the cat, Wiggins the spaniel and Old Parson the old parson, they set out to lift the gloom from Silverydew for good.

This is a completely romantic fantasy novel for little girls and is a book I would have adored as a child. As an adult I utterly loved it as reading it is true escapism and you have to suspend all belief in anything remotely plausible to go along with the adventure. It is heavily descriptive and the detailed writing brings Silverydew to life so it is a feast for the imagination. It is a little dated but this adds to the charm of the book - the material is nostalgic and reading this over sixty years after publication the nostalgia is even more prominent. Silverydew is an idyll and Maria learns what none of the other Moon Princesses could learn, to be good and selfless.

The Little White Horse truly is comfort reading at its best; escapsism, fairytales, adventures, romance and good triumphing over bad.