Saturday, 15 November 2008

War stories for boys


Ian Lamb got in contact from Bloomsbury yesterday to tell me that Uncle Montague's Tales of Terror has been nominated for yet another award. It has been shortlisted for the Calderdale Children's Book of the Year, which is great news. Thanks to all concerned.

I also forgot to mention that Scholastic sent me a proof of their cover for War Stories for Boys - a compendium of some of the My Story series - including my Battle of Britain book. It is due out next March.

Something tells me they may have to do something about that black on black type before then. . .

NB: Apologies to the designers of War Stories for Boys. They did not have black on black type. That was an anomaly created when I scanned the cover in and I was obviously reacting to that image rather than the actual thing. The type is very clearly metallic gold in the actual thing. and perfectly legible.

Friday, 14 November 2008

Yet more books

Continuing with my book recommendations for the British School in Rio library. . .

While I try and think of some more books for young adults, I want to suggest a few book that weren't written for children at all, but which I think would make good additions to a library catering for teenagers. It is a very personal list and features many of the books that I read when I was in my late teens (though some I did not read until later).

Some of these book will already be in the library of course. I recommend them - to teachers as much as to students - simply as an encouragement to read them without the off-putting sense of awe that comes with being a 'classic', even a modern one.



Ray Bradbury is a genius - as I may have mentioned before. He is one of those writers who just seems to have an endless supply of wonderful ideas. But ideas without the writing ability to make them work are worthless. Bradbury is a brilliant writer who manages to seem folksy and sophisticated in the same sentence. His short stories are superb and many have child or young protagonists.


And what library would be complete without a book which imagines a world where books are burned by the state. Fahrenheit 451 is the temperature at which paper burns.


John Wyndham's Day of the Triffids is a brilliantly realised nightmare in which the world is suddenly invaded by murderous plants. The idea of someone waking to find the world utterly changed has been explored many times, but seldom better than in this book.


Raymond Chandler is one of my favourite authors. He has suffered by parody and poor imitation, but his books are a masterclass in writing. Sharp and witty prose, with never a superfluous word.


John Steinbeck is another writer who rarely puts a foot (or should that be finger) wrong. Of Mice and Men is a wonderful story about friendship, longing and loneliness set in the tough world of the Great Depression. Every library probably has a copy. I mention it only because it doesn't have to be studied as a set text. It can just be read and enjoyed as the brilliant book it is.



The Blood of Others. Simone de Beauvoir's novel about the French Resistance seems very relevant now, with its exploration of the limits of responsibility and the use of violence as a weapon in the service of a particular cause. Just how responsible are we for what happens to other human beings? Do the ends justify the means? That question is as relevant now as it was then.



The Outsider. Another book about violence by fellow existentialist, Albert Camus. But this time the violence is arbitrary, casual and senseless. Somehow that theme also seems only to have gained in relevance and pertinence. Camus was arguably the best writer of the existentialists and this book is superb.


The Old Man and the Sea. The French existentialists admired American writers like Hemingway for their spare prose. This book really grabbed my imagination when I read it at school, with its fable like story of an old man, a boy and a very big fish. . .


Bonjour Tristesse. Hello sadness. . . Francoise Sagan was only 18 when she wrote this haunting book about love and jealousy set on the French Riviera. There are lots of books about 17 year old girls around at the moment, and though I can't claim to have read them all, I would be surprised if any of them were as well written as this one.


Goldengrove/Unleaving. Another book about a teenage heart muscles being tested, but this time in the very English setting of Cornwall and by Jill Paton Walsh. This book was recommended to me by Suzanne Jones some time ago and is one of her favourite books. What a lovely piece of writing it is.



Hardly a radical choice - The Catcher in the Rye is one of the most famous novels ever written. Why does this book appear so often on lists of favourite books of all times? Because it is brilliant, that's why. From the wonderful opening page it is a fantastic piece of writing. Again there are lots of teenage first person narratives out there. But they aren't written by J D Sallinger.



William Golding is a wonderful writer. I suppose the obvious book to put here would be Lord of the Flies (which is fantastic, obviously - as is Pincher Martin or the The Spire for that matter), but I have chosen The Inheritors, a moving story about our ancient ancestors - a world that Golding conjures up brilliantly - and to unforgettable, heartbreaking effect.


Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde. R L Stevenson is bit of a hero of mine. He wrote such a range of books and of such high quality. The idea of a man physically transforming into another version of himself seems timeless, as all the very best ideas do.





This is a classic book about cowardice and bravery in the face of battle. Stephen Crane's book is set in the American Civil War but will be endlessly relevant. The red badge of courage is a wound, of course.




It is hard to believe that one man could have as many superb ideas as Philip K Dick managed to have in his career. Practically everything he wrote seems to have been turned into a movie, and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? is no exception - it was the basis for the movie Blade Runner. The book is much more thought-provoking though, full of amazing ideas and images.





Dracula. I have returned to this book often since I first read it when I was fifteen or so. I read it after seeing Bela Lugosi in the title role in the 1931 Universal Pictures movie version on TV. But the book is far stranger and darker - distasteful even - than any movie version you will see.




I Am Legend. For a more modern take on vampires - Ricard Matheson wrote the book in the 1950s - have a look at I am Legend. It is brilliantly written and utterly terrifying. Is it horror? Is it sci-fi? Who cares? It is a wonderful piece of writing that will make you think whilst scaring the pants off you.


I read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley at about the same time as Dracula (and like that book, one I have re-read several time). Everyone thinks they know this story because it has been filmed and copied and spoofed so often. But this is a very different beast from the movie versions. If you have never read it, almost all of your preconceptions will evaporate as the story opens on board a ship surrounded by Arctic ice. . .



And while we are on this horror theme, I will point you in the direction of Edgar Allan Poe. His stories can be a little florid, but that just adds to the weirdness. You will rarely read anything as dark and disturbing as The Tell-Tale Heart, The Black Cat or Berenice.




I have praised Saki before on this blog, but that isn't going to stop me doing it again. His stories range from horror to humour (usually black). They are very English and often feature children rebelling against authoritarian adults. They can be very dark. Short story collections are a good introduction to all kinds of writers.


I think Italo Calvino is a superb writer, but I am aware that he tends to divide opinion. I think some people find the books too contrived - too knowing. But that has never bothered me. I find his writing magical and thought-provoking and just incredibly clever. This is one of my favourites.


My Family and Other Animals. I read Gerald Durrell's novel of his childhood on Corfu to my son recently, expecting him to love all the nature references in it, but it was the comic episodes featuring Gerald's crazy family (including the novelist Laurence Durrell) that most amused him (and me).



I read all the Conan books when I was a teenager. I came to them via the Marvel comics series. One of the strokes of genius was Howard making Conan a bit dim. It gives the reader a different kind of relationship with this barbarian freebooter than we would otherwise have.


Susan Hill's novel is about children rather than for children, but it has increasingly found itself onto school set texts because it is such a powerful, gruelling study of bullying and child-to-child cruelty.



James Joyce? James Joyce? Am I really recommending James Joyce to teenagers? Yes I am. I once did a writing workshop with eight year old children based on the last few paragraphs of the last story in this collection - The Dead - with great results. They didn't know they were supposed to be scared of James Joyce. That story - with its story within a story of the poor, doomed Michael Fury - is one I regularly return to and the ending is one of my favourite pieces of writing.

Thursday, 13 November 2008

Some more books


Coraline by Neil Gaiman is a superb book. It is strange and haunting and very, very scary. The dreamlike (or should that be nightmarish) tone of the prose is perfectly complimented by Dave McKean's illustrations. Short, but far from sweet.


The Children of Green Knowe is as strange in its way as Coraline, but Lucy Boston was a very different kind of writer. The interplay between the world of the present and the world of ghosts and of the past is incredibly complex. There are other Green Knowe books and they all have a feel about them that I can honestly say is unlike anything else I have ever read.


The Phantom Toll Booth is equally unlike any other book I can think of. It is a strange and lovely thing, fizzing with imagination and a love of language. Make sure you find a copy that has the the orginal Jules Feiffer illustrations.

And we have to have Roald Dahl, don't we? He is so familiar that it is easy to forget just how good his books are (and how much children love them). They are hugely imaginative, dark and often deeply odd. Dahl's voice is unique.

I loved this book when I first read it. My son recently read Jack London's The Call of the Wild and really enjoyed it. White Fang is sitting on his bedside cupboard waiting to be read. It is a fantastic book. It has strong characters, a great story and a wonderful setting. What more could you want?


Mark Walden's Hive books have proved hugely popular with readers and rightly so. They are fast-paced action adventures where certain 'gifted' children are kidnapped and taken to the Higher Institute for Villainous Education to hone their skills. Great stuff.


Louis Sachar's Holes is another book that it is hard to think of anything even remotely similar. The way the story is told is very unusual, moving back and forth in time and with a plot that skillfully binds all the characters together. It is set in a punishment camp for teenagers where they are forced to dig holes in a dried up lake infested with poisonous lizards in the baking sun. Why? Read it and find out.



My son is working his way through Michele Paver's highly successful series that begins with Wolf Brother. This is not so much historical fiction as prehistorical fiction, set in a vividly realised world of our hunter-gathering ancestors. I would have loved these books when I was 11.




Another series I would have enjoyed at that age are Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson books. Percy Jackson - half boy, half god - has been a huge hit with children and I'm not surprised. I loved Greek myths when I was young and so too, presumably, did Rick Riordan, who has skillfully borrowed from those myths to create adventures stories that seem to really grab modern readers.


Stan Lee has spent a career inventing demi-gods and heroes Spider-man and the Hulk among them). He and Jack Kirby are one of the great writer/illustrator partnerships of all time (although it was the brilliant Steve Ditko who came up with the look of Spider-man of course). I have chosen the Marvel Essential book of the Fantastic Four, but all the Essential books are great value and a fantastic introduction to some of the best in American comics.


Clive King's Stig of the Dump is a very special book. It plays on the idea - an idea that children love - of a child having a secret friend. Just as in the movie E.T. the bond between the boy and the out-of-time hunter-gatherer is complex, with Stig being both vulnerable and powerful by turns. It shares some similarities with The Indian in the Cupboard as the boy comes to understand that Stig is not a plaything but a real person who needs to get back to his family and his own time. Make sure you get a copy with the Ardizzone peerless illustrations.



Collaboration between author and illustrator is common in picture books but Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell are possibly unique in collaborating so closely in books for this age group. Roald Dahl obviously had a very successful relationship with Quentin Blake, but Chris and Paul blur the job descriptions much more, with Chris being involved right from the beginning at the ideas stage. Their highly successful Edge Chronicles are drawing to a close, but this is where it all started.

I read this to my son last year or the year before and the whole time I was concerned that he would think the story was just too bizarre. But as we carried on it became clear that he absolutely loved it. I was far more resistant to the strangeness than he was. It is an astonishing book; a book that definitely merits the word magical.

As with the last list of books, by recommending a particular book I am in effect recommending the author, and definitely the series of which the book is a part if that is relevant. It is not an exhaustive list by any means, and if I think of more I will add them. Tomorrow I am going to list some books for older readers.

Wednesday, 12 November 2008

Some books

I was asked by the British School in Rio to suggest some books for their libraries, so I am going to suggest some here. In recommending a particluar book, I am also recommending that writer. As I have said before, the idea of attaching a reading age or even an age range to a book is problematic, because a book might be too difficult for a child to read to themselves, but not is the book is read to them by a teacher or a parent. Equally, a book can be read at different ages and be appreciated in different ways. The books here cover the age range of anything from 8 to 12 and higher. Actually there are books here where I would feel uncomfortable putting any top age.



I have praised Philip Reeve's Mortal Engines books before on this blog and I am very happy to do it again. All four books are well-written, fast-paced and hugely imaginative, and though they may seem archetypal boys books at first glance, they do have strong female characters and the plots revolve around relationships just as much as they do about the mechanics of the mobile cities.


The idea behind The Indian in the Cupboard series of books is a brilliant one: a boy discovers that a combination of a certain cupboard and a certain key will bring plastic figures to life. But the success of the books is where Lynne Reid Banks goes with this idea, using it as a way to look at history and culture and friendship and the responsibility one has for ones actions, and for the unforeseen consequences of them. The boy discovers that he is not animating a piece of plastic, but bringing actual people unwillingly from their real lives. The series explores the mystery of the cupboard and the key.


Tom's Midnight Garden is such a brilliant book. It has everything you would hope to find in a novel written for any age group. A boy goes to stay with relatives in an apartment that is part of what was once a large house. There is an old clock in the communal hallway and when it strikes midnight, Tom finds his way out into the garden as it used to be and meets a girl. They both assume the other to be a ghost. What follows is an incredibly moving story about childhood and the loss of childhood, old age and memory. Philippa Pearce was an exceptional writer. Be sure to get a copy with the lovely original illustrations by Susan Einzig.



Eva Ibotson is a writer I really admire and I would recommend any of her books. I have shown this one simply because it is set in South America, but all of her books are great. Again it has a relationship between a boy and a girl at its core but there is a lot more going on here. Just as Mortal Engines might seem a boy's book, A Journey to the River Sea might seem a girl's book, but it defies that kind of simplistic categorisation. It is full of great characters (including one who collects glass eyes) and is beautifully written from start to finish.



No list like this would be complete without Philip Pullman. I have shown Northern Lights - by far the best book of the His Dark Materials trilogy. Much has been made of the references to Milton and the attack on established religion and dogma, but what sticks in the mind most of all are the amazing armoured polar bears and the brilliant idea of characters having a soul that lives outside of their body in the form of an animal. Rich and deeply intelligent writing, full of ideas.


A Wizard of Earthsea is a story about a boy who goes to a school where they train wizards. Sound familiar? A Wizard of Earthsea is a much darker book than those by J K Rowling. It has a wonderful depth and a strangeness to it. Fantasy writing can break down if the reader is not absolutely convinced by the world the writer creates. Right from the start, with its lovely map of the archipelago, there is no danger of that happening here. Ursula Le Guin also wrote one of my favourite short stories - The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas - a brilliant and timeless parable that should be required reading for all political leaders.


My son would never forgive me if I did not include a Tintin book. I spent a good deal of youth reading comics and I still do. Those who never read comics or graphic novels tend to regard them as a genre rather than a medium, but they are simply another way of telling a story. There is a renewal of interest in graphic novels at the moment and so there is a lot of rubbish about as publishers jump on the bandwagon. My praise for comics only applies to the good stuff of course. Herge has rarely been bettered.

More tomorrow. . .

Monday, 10 November 2008

When we were very young

I watched the excellent BBC4 programme about British picture books on i-Player last night. It was the first in a series called When We Were Very Young. Martin Salisbury was talking head and a very articulate one he was.

I have never done a picture book. It seems odd really. I was taught illustration by Tony Ross who has done more picture books than seems humanly possible and I am both a writer and an illustrator. But so far they have always eluded me. I have had a couple of goes at trying to get something published, but I just don't seem to have hit the right buttons.

I am fascinated by them though. Not just because of the opportunity they provide as an illustrator, but because though I accept that literature can be all manner of things to people, among them simply another form of entertainment, I think that it can (and maybe should) also - picture books included - help to shape us as human beings and change the way we look at the world.

This may at first glance seem rather an outlandish claim for picture books, but I don't think it is. In fact they have an even greater impact because it is through them that we learn how a book works and it has the added component of teaching us how the living, moving world can be transcribed into a two dimensional shorthand. We learn about literature and about painting all in one go.

John Burningham was featured in the programme. His books are strange and dream-like and have a kind of magic about them, both in the texts and in the images. I once told Burningham how much my son and I had enjoyed his books and he looked genuinely moved as if no one had ever said that before (though I'm sure they had).
John and Janet Ahlberg's Each Peach Pear Plum is, as Michael Rosen pointed out, possibly the perfect picture book. It is faultlessly illustrated by Janet Ahlberg, full of witty, sophisticated images. The text is very, very clever and, like all of John Ahlberg's work, incredibly satisfying to read (which makes a big difference when you have a child who wants to hear it again and again, night after night). This is a proper children's book - neither talking down to, nor over the heads of, its target audience. Both of the books above were special favourites of my son and rightly so.Brian Wildsmith was also featured. He is a bit of a genius I think. Here the introduction is to art and to visual creativity rather than to words. Not all children or adults will like his loose paintwork - though I do - but a Brian Wildsmith book is like a parrot flying into the room. The colour leaps from the page. Painterliness in illustrators can often be nothing more than 'style' and it can grow a little tedious after a while. Not so with Wildsmith. That exuberance is not contrived. He just loves chucking paint about and he is an antidote to the prissy, safe and twee artwork that is too often the lazy default for picture book illustration. He should be carried shoulder high by everyone who cares about children caring about art and by everyone who treasures the illustrated book.

Sunday, 9 November 2008

So cold

I stood on the sidelines in a freezing cold wind and occasional rain showers watching my son play football this afternoon.

Cold. So cold.

At one point the game was lit by an incredibly bright, low light as the sun finally escaped from the blanket of clouds. My son's team has the misfortune to play in orange and their strips were almost fluorescent against the damp grass. There was a backdrop of a spectacularly glowering sky and a huge, perfectly semi-circular rainbow.

Needless to say, I didn't have my camera with me.

Thursday, 6 November 2008

Carnegie Medal

Uncle Montague's Tales of Terror has been longlisted for the Carnegie Medal. I was told about this by Sarah Odedina the other day but thought I shouldn't pre-empt the announcement by the CILIP. Congratulations to Celia Rees for her nomination for Sovay. If you want to see the other books on the list and those up for the Kate Greenaway, then go to the site and have a look.

I went to Will Hill's private view at Clare Hall this evening, cycling through the drizzle with my son. Will's work was great and what a nice gallery. Martin Salisbury was there and it is always good to catch up with him. We were comparing our trips to South America. Martin went to Venezuela with the British Council some time ago. We both seem to have come back with the same frustration at not having seen more. We'll both just have to go back.

It was good to see Lisa Kirkham there, though she sounds completely snowed under with work - a victim of her own success it seems (or her inability - shared with most freelancers - to say no). Lisa is a typographer and designer and absolutely passionate about (and hugely knowledgable about) children's books. She doesn't have a website so I can't send you her way, sadly - although she was telling me that Peter's blog is attracting notice. I'm not surprised. As I've said before - it's great.