Real or Dream ?
THE attraction of any other place or time, rather than here or now, assures at least some success for stories about seaside holidays when read in December. The first glimpse of waves, that drama unfolded against the background of picnics on the sands, rock-climbs, shells—an insulation of summer defends the happy redder from the slush outside. In The Mamba's Precipice a family are once more spending the long holidays in a beach cottage, but this book has even more than the charms of surf and sands to commend it. The beach is a few miles from Durban, the sea is the Indian Ocean. Bathing, boating, fishing, yes, but everything is delightfully beyond the possibilities of Thorpeness or Paignton. Action is violent; scenery is exotic (the lagoon at night with fireflies reflected in the water; myriads of gannets diving over a sardine shoal like clouds of midges black against the dawn). Michael, aged sixteen, who takes the centre of most scenes, is a sort of bush Bevis; skilled in woodcraft, modest, enquiring,' fearless. He gaffs a shark, fights a catfish, rides a steer and a motorbike, rescues one man from a cobra and another from the sea; takes honey from wild bees, shoots leopard and buck, brings in a dinghy on the crest of a tidal wave, catches a black mamba on the end of a baited line. "Michael pushed up the safety catch and waited. Another growl came from the undergrowth. . . ." The book is full of moments like these, new experiences lit with detail that will impress waxy minds and haunt dreams.
After such a holiday, children in this country seem to have rather a tame time on their sands. The best that they are shown enjoying is a tracking adventure in Detectives in Wales. Here are the, Holloways ; Peter, who singlemindedly pursues his ambition to get that retriever puppy, Roger who knows about birds,' Joan the boyish elder sister, and Jessica the youngest whose important rfile is to wholly occupy the attentions of the governess. They are one of those independent, restless, book families, who, while their parents are off the scene, indulge in some unlikely caper. This time they are rounding up ,a pet-shop owner who has been trading in gold- finches and catskins. The chase is well sustained, and when there is time the 'author does evoke successfully the simpler joys of just being on holiday by the sea.
Norman and Henry Bones Investigate contains four complete short stories in which mysteries are unravelled by two young cousins who have made a name for themselves as detectives. The author is a schoolmaster who knows that his readers' appetite for disappearing scientists, hidden landing grounds, buried jewels, dark-skinned servants, smugglers, cars that crash over cliffs, weird events on lonely moors, midnight chases, and so, cornily, on, is insatiable. He leaves out few of the most popular things.
An example of good, quick, economical story telling (nothing in the lavish Arabian Nights background is introduced unless it is essential for the plot) is The Island Castle. Two schoolboy friends, one representing brain and other brawn, both needed for survival, become involved with a bogus great-uncle who is hatching a world- shaking plot. Literally so, for his formula for the manufacture of earthquakes is almost complete. The boys find themselves prisoners in his fabulous castle on an island off the coast of Turkey and only just dodge their way to freedom through the plethora of hidden microphones, sinister servants, and underground vaults. Fantastic thrills mount towards a completely satisfactory show-down. The illustrations by Peggy Fortnum are a delight.
For the younger, perhaps the more reflective child, Curlew Jon has a gentle, almost a " Secret Garden " flavour. The hero is an only .child, misunderstood, lonely-, recovering from an illness, set down on the coast of Scotland for a few months, to " run w.ld." At first Jon feels only emptiness and ennui, but step by step we follow the stages of his awakening. In the end he has discovered friends, ranging from the water bailiff's son to the crippled laird, has become interested in birds and beasts (particularly seals, squirrels and wild cats), and his confidence in the glitter of possibilities that lie ahead in a not so boring world, is restored.
Two happy, well written books, Admiral's Walk and A Castle and Sixpence, are about widows who inherit country 'properties. Mrs. Malet, whose daughter Gay narrates the first story (Kitty Barite's heroines are always endearingly resourceful), gets a cottage near Bristol. Mrs. Martingale, who writes books and has four children (some of their inconsequent, conversations are nicely true to life), gets a moated castle. Left to thcm by a queer uncle and an eccentric aunt, the two new homes provide snags as well as joys. It-is the smoothing out of the—mainly financial—troubles, and the rap- turous exploration of new environments from bluebell woods to battlements, that we share. Helpful bachelors hover through both books to ensure completely happy endings.
Nineteen sensible, less romantic stories have been collected by Noel Streatfeild in her book for girls, By Special Request. The title refers to the fact that each of the experienced writers whose work is included was asked to contribute a specially written, characteristic story. Roland Pertwee writes about a fishing holiday in Devon ; L. A. G. Strong's heroine is staying in Ireland. Viola Gerard Garvin and Angela du Maurier remember themselves delightfully as the daughters of famous Papas. Lorna Lewis is nicely tongue-in-cheek about a French dog that became a collaborateur ; Jerrard Ttckell tells of a typcal woman secret agent ; Monica Edwards provides a horse. There are stories set in foreign parts, Siam, Australia, Canada ; there are stories debunking the more starry careers. There is art account by Uys Krige of the complicated terrors of a little boy lost in Cape Town that touches the imag;nation more than all the rest. Miss Streatfeild introduces the contributions with pages of chat about herself, about the writers she has chosen, about why she wanted this and that subject, and why each story must be enjoyed. Children who like "going behind the scenes" Will be inter- ested in this revelation of an editor at work. A handsomely produced volume with a blue binding traced in gold, flowery endpapers and line drawings by,s3veral artists ; there is plenty here to please. Realistic stories about things that did or could happen ; interest- ing, stimulating, is that what children prefer ? Or are those fantasies of leopard shooting, crook-chasing, castles in the air, the real favour- ites? It is only my guess that when children ask' Tell me a story " they still expect, indeed hope, to be told a lie.
PAMELA WHITLOCK
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