Rhyme Stew
by Roald Dahl; ill. Quentin Blake (Jonathan Cape, 1989)
Lame poetry that, otherwise treated, could have become classic illustrated short stories. Dahl’s rhymes are too simplistic for grown-ups, yet too adult for young readers (the cover explicitly says so, though everything else about the book’s presentation screams ‘children’). A perplexing offering.
Jonathan Livingston Seagull
by Richard Bach; photographs by Russell Munson (Turnstone, 1972)
A novella that came to faddish prominence in the 1970s. Written by a former air-force pilot, awash with artsy seagull pictures, it is both a paean to flying and a parable of individualism. The story is harmless enough, although drifting towards spiritualism.
Service with a Smile
by P G Wodehouse (Simon & Schuster, 1961)
More pig-stealing machinations at Blandings Castle. Wodehouse as ever constructs and demolishes, re-weaves and unravels a plot thick with thwarted marriages and jovial underhandedness. Ickenham performs admirably as Galahad’s understudy, yet the prose and resolutions fall short of Wodehouse at his best.
School Can Wait
by Tessa Dahl; ill. Korky Paul (Hamish Hamilton, 1990)
This story lies somewhere between an overly wordy picture book and a heavily illustrated middle grade novel featuring zany, animal-rescuing adventures. The eight-year-old protagonist is very much along for the ride but Korky Paul’s black-and-white drawings do much to enliven the characters.
Tintin: Red Rackham’s Treasure
by Hergé (Le Soir, 1943); trans. Leslie Lonsdale-Cooper & Michael Turner (Methuen, 1959)
A Tintin adventure with no villain! Hergé plays on readers’ expectations of peril but casts aside the usual death-defying storylines, netting instead a string of uncommonly dégagé Caribbean escapades. Red Rackham’s Treasure, though undemanding, gleams yet with well-plotted, vivaciously rendered humour. Exemplary.
The Complete Peanuts: 1971 to 1972
by Charles M. Schulz (Fantagraphics Books, 2009)
An evocatively drawn mix of wit, whimsy and preternatural wisdom. Poor old wishy-washy Charlie Brown remains the unifying figure but there are a good number of delightfully droll (and character-defining) strips involving Peppermint Patty, Sally Brown, and in particular Lucy van Pelt.
The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul
by Douglas Adams (William Heinemann, 1988); audiobook read by Douglas Adams (Phoenix, 2015)
The story, when looked back upon at book’s end, turns out to have been the flimsiest of nonsense. Dirk actually does very little. But this only serves to emphasise the deft, droll, audacious touch of Adams’ whimsy, and the lure of interconnectedness.
The Rockingdown Mystery
by Enid Blyton (William Collins, 1949)
A solid introduction to the ‘Barney’ (or ‘R’) mystery series. Standard Blyton characters Roger and Diana are superseded by their mischievous cousin Snubby, vagabond circus boy Barney and his monkey Miranda, and of course Snubby’s (actually Blyton’s daughters’) memorably madcap dog Loony.
The Mummy Case
by Elizabeth Peters (Congdon & Weed, 1985); audiobook read by Susan O’Malley (Blackstone, 1999)
Although the mystery is not investigated in any meaningful way, Peters’ knowledge of Egyptology adds depth and her narrative is quietly amusing. Susan O’Malley’s audiobook reading bears suitable record of Amelia Peabody, Emerson, and the precocious wunderkind Ramses, preserving their dignified foolery.
The Neverending Story
by Michael Ende (Thienemann Verlag, 1979); trans. Ralph Manheim; audiobook read by Gerard Doyle (Tantor, 2012)
Fantastica is aptly named and the fantasy adventure gains an extra edge of wonder by having its fictional reader incorporated into the story. Where the film version ends, however, the book morphs into a didactic quest narrative and plods on, seemingly forever!