The Tobermory Cat by Debi Gliori: reviewed by Gillian Philip

I’ve been a big fan of Debi Gliori since my children were small. Her books were favourites in our house, particularly the beautiful No Matter What (famous for making parents choke up over the final pages). The Tobermory Cat is another of those enchanting books that, although wholly created for and focused on the child, manage to have plenty of interest for the adults who will have to read them at bedtime - again and again...and again.   

All the cats of the island of Mull are special. There are the Woolly Cats of Loch Ba, the Singing Cats of Staffa, the Sulky Cats of Salen (I love the snotty Sulky Cats), and the Seafaring Cats of Fishnish. Only in Tobermory are the cats ordinary; all they want to do is catch mice, eat fish, and watch the clouds go by. This is doing nothing for the tourist industry. So the people of Tobermory decide - prompted, as they should be in such a book, by a very small person - that they’re going to train their cats to be special, too.

Training cats? You can imagine how that works out.

But there’s one cat who wants to be special. He’s quite determined to be special, but he doesn’t know how. So he decides to ask the advice of everyone he can think of...

Of course, things don’t work out as he planned - but they do work out, and perfectly. This isn’t the only twist in the book, though: for that you have to reach the final, text-free double page, where children will meet some old familiar friends, in a perfect setting to say goodnight. It’s the sort of endearing spine-tingler that I’d have loved turning to at the end of a bedtime story. Far more importantly, so would my children.

The paintings are delicately beautiful, from broad landscapes to delicious small details. There are animals to spot, cats to identify, and so many funny pictorial asides, I’m still finding new ones. I love the typical Highland hardware store, and the mother’s expression on the beach is so familiar (I’ve worn it) it made me laugh out loud. The Tobermory Cat tells a child something loving and reassuring - and it’s funny, too.

Children will love the fact that the Tobermory Cat is real. Ginger stray cats with big personalities have roamed the town since at least the days of Saki - legendary local characters, like Greyfriars Bobby or the Loch Ness Monster. This latest incarnation will draw even more visitors to a beautiful island. So, congratulations to Debi Gliori, Birlinn Publishing and the people of Mull (to whom it is dedicated) on such a joyous book. I loved it.

The Tobermory Cat by Debi Gliori; published by Birlinn Limited

www.gillianphilip.com



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"Just Imagine" by Nick Sharratt and Pippa Goodhart, reviewed by Penny Dolan and two accomplices.

The picture book “JUST IMAGINE” came through the post at just the right time. The two small people staying here rushed to it as a treat as soon as the cover appeared from the cardboard wrapper.

During the week of their holiday, Daisy (8) read it to herself. Then she read it with Milo (6) and then they took turns at reading it, singly or together, on the sofa, on the floor, and in their beds.

Both children read stories way beyond the simple text, speech and thought bubbles found inside these pages but they both took delight in this book.. Ah yes! Time to reiterate that picture books reading isn’t just for Nursery and Reception Classes. Older children benefit from time spent enjoying and relaxing with picture books too!

JUST IMAGINE is what I’d call a very sociable book. The overarching idea and the size and layout of the pages are clearly meant for sharing and talking over as much as they are for private daydreaming, whether between child and grown-up or among a small group of children.

The main premise is posed by Pippa Goodhart’s easily read and remembered rhyme, reaching across all the pages. What would it be like, JUST IMAGINE asks the children, if they were really big? Or really small? Or invented a machine? Or lived at another time? Or were characters from stories? Or animals? Or if they lived somewhere very different? 

Every spread has plenty of illustrations – twenty-two on both the first and second spreads – each encouraging the child to imagine what would happen if they found themselves in different situations. Some spreads have lots of “individual” illustrations while others offer a crowd of ideas, almost “where’s wally-style”, suggesting answers in the cheering Nick Sharratt style.

Don’t just take my opinion. Here's what Daisy told me:

“I liked it a lot. The main thing I liked about it is that it really gets your imagination going. There are some really funny bits and some strange bits and all sorts of different bits. Also it had quite a nice ending to it. And also instead of telling you “it should be like this” or “it happens like that” you choose for yourself.

It could be for quite young people and would be good for kids who’ve just learning to read – it is mainly pictures - but it’s still quite nice for older people like me.”

Thank you for you help, Daisy. 
(Milo agreed with all that she’d said.)

This title is a follow-on from “YOU CHOOSE”, a book that was a classroom favourite as well as "Mumsnet Book Of the Year 2011 for 3-4year olds". JUST IMAGINE would – she said, finding her teacher hat – offer lots of opportunities for language learning, vocabulary building and conversation in schools. 

JUST IMAGINE is out tomorrow in hardback, which may be what you'd need for the tough use that the book is likely to get on the classroom carpet.

Review by Penny Dolan. 

JUST IMAGINE is published by Random House on August 30^th. Hb. £10.99

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A HEN IN THE WARDROBE by Wendy Meddour. Reviewed by Ann Turnbull

Ramzi has a problem.  His dad is sleepwalking.  He comes into Ramzi's bedroom in the middle of the night and searches for a hen in the wardrobe.  He climbs a tree in the garden in his pyjamas while dreaming that he's a snow leopard.

Something has to be done.

The doctor diagnoses homesickness and says it's time Dad went home for a holiday.  Dad is a Berber and his home is a small town in the mountains of Algeria.  It's a long journey, and a big change for Ramzi and his English mum.

Back with his extended family, Dad soon begins to feel happier.  Life in his home town is very different from life in suburban Cinnamon Grove in England.  It's noisy.  There are loud calls to prayer before dawn and parties that go on till late at night with drums beating, women ululating and guns firing in celebration.  At first Ramzi and his mum enjoy themselves.  Ramzi makes friends with his cousins and his Uncle Kader and sees off the local bully.  But before long there is a new problem: Dad wants to stay, but Mum and Ramzi want to go home.

A number of strange remedies are tried, but when at last they do go home it is Ramzi, with the help of his Uncle Kader, who finds a solution that keeps everyone happy.

This is a cheerful, zany story, with illustrations by the author that add greatly to its charm.  It shows people of different races and religions sharing a neighbourhood; parents and children who play games together; and neighbours who look after each other.  There are hints of a darker side.  Ramzi is bullied in both England and Algeria for being 'different'; and at airport security Dad is taken away for questioning for no apparent reason.  But this is not in any way a book that thumps home its messages.  It leaves you with a warm glow and a strong sense of how people ought to live in a community and, indeed, do live most of the time.

This book is the first of a series, and the second one, The Black Cat Detectives, will be published in August 2012.

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The Big Ugly Monster and the Little Stone Rabbit, by Chris Wormell: review by Gillian Philip

There’s always one. Yes: where there’s a book that isn’t just exactly what you might expect in a children’s title, there’s always an indignant parent demanding it be withdrawn from the school library so that nobody will be in danger of reading it.

I love Chris Wormell’s picture books, and so did my children as they were growing up. Neither George and the Dragon nor In The Woods deny the existence of big scary monsters, but both show that big scary monsters are not so scary that they can’t be faced - and that sometimes monsters can be frightened, too.

But the Big Ugly Monster (the one with the little stone rabbit) isn’t scary. He’s ugly - so ugly that even the weather and the landscape can’t bear him - but he isn’t frightening to the reader. To the reader he’s lonely, sad, but ineffably optimistic. Ponds dry up when he steps in them; the trees shed their leaves whenever he appears. The only things he has to talk to are bare rocks, but that doesn’t deter him: his great idea is to carve the rocks into friendly animals (though the back ends are the best bits, as that’s his normal view of animals).

I’ll be honest: when I got to this point, on my very first reading of the book, I was as full of optimism as the monster, who ‘was pleased with all his stone animals, and he smiled.’ And so did I, until the stone animals shattered in the face of that incredibly ugly smile.

There’s only one stone animal that survives the smile, and that’s the little stone rabbit. Nothing the monster can do - dancing, singing, smiling an EXTRA BIG SMILE - can shatter the rabbit. Which is the point, in another book, when you might expect the little stone rabbit to come to life and be a real, breathing, talking friend to the Big Ugly Monster.

That’s what I love about this book: it just isn’t that simple. The stone rabbit doesn’t change - he doesn’t sing and dance and he doesn’t talk - but he doesn’t shatter either. Through all the years and seasons, he never shatters. Not even when--

But that would be telling.

This is one of those books where you get to the last page and you take a breath, because you can’t quite believe it. And then you might just cry. I’m warning you.

Now, I’m a mother. I understand that you might feel, reading this book, that your child isn’t quite ready for it, and for the questions it might provoke. Or more likely, you might decide you aren’t ready for that discussion yourself. That’s fair enough. I know I decided exactly that, at different points for each child. 

Heck, I’m 48 years old, give or take, and there are nights I wouldn’t want it for my bedtime reading. But honestly, The Big Ugly Monster and the Little Stone Rabbit is one of the most beautiful books I have ever read. It still makes me cry. Get around to it some day: take a deep breath and have that talk about friendship, and loyalty, and loneliness, and what we leave behind us.

Just - whatever you do - don’t superimpose some simplistic message on this book. And - as one Amazon reviewer does - don’t, please, ever deny it to every other child in your local school. I only looked up the Amazon reviews because I was curious about this book's reception, and I’m still breathless with rage at that particular reviewer.

And if you’re one of the librarians who capitulated? Do the children in your care a favour, and think again.

The Big Ugly Monster and the Little Stone Rabbit by Chris Wormell

www.gillianphilip.com

www.facebook.com/gillianphilipauthor

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Winnie at Twenty Five: Review by Penny Dolan

Yes, it’s a special year for a famous lady who’s been around, comparatively, for a while. She’s keen on parties and celebrations and has a way of making other lives feel a bit brighter. Many children recognise her face and would love to meet her. 

No, not the Queen.

 I’m talking about the famous Winnie the Witch, who is 25 this year. 

Winnie is the star of a very popular picture book for young children, illustrated in exuberant style by illustrator Korky Paul. Some might say that her put-upon cat Wilbur is just as much an eternal  hero. The big Winnie picture books are often found in libraries and schools and homes.

However, having smaller people around me again, I came across a paperback series about Winnie, all written by Laura Owen. Keen to investigate this newer incarnation, I bought “Winnie Goes Batty” (2008) and “Mini Winnie” (2010) both published by OUP at £4.99

I was not disappointed. If you are used to long fiction for middle grade readers and upwards, these four-story books might seem very slight, but they felt perfect for the six to seven or even eight year old reader who needs a bright interesting story quickly and boldly told.

Winnie is a wacky modern miss, an eternal optimist whose attempts are often thwarted by accidents, events or her own kind-heartedness. The story concepts are clear to the young reader. 

In “Winnie Goes Batty”, the exuberant witch attempts to be a tightrope walker, to cope with a snoring cat, to dig for old treasure for a museum and to impress her aunt with a bat feast. 

“Minnie Winnie” brings a visit from a bossy aunt, becoming a school cleaner for a day, a tv poetry competition and a shrinking. All involve immediate disaster and all end happily.

 

The books bring a pleasure beyond the plots. The pages often offer opportunities to make odd noises, while Winnie’s choice of diet brings a shivery touch of Dahlese gruesomeness that children, especially boys, would wallow in.

 I liked the subtle cleverness within the writing. This is a writer who enjoys fun with words for their own sake. Here’s a short example:

 

Glug-glug-slurp. “Nice fizzy froggle-pop!” said Winnie. “The trouble is that it blooming well bubbles up like frogspawn when I dance.” Burp!

Scrunch-munch-gulp. “ Meeew”, nodded Wilbur, scoffing crispy mouse tails as he waggled his hips and bopped along to the very loud Hobgoblins of Sound booming from Winnie’s MP13 player.

It was a good party, even if it was just for the two of them.

 

I felt these are very much books to read along with a child, letting them join in with the sounds as well as being books that would help an uncertain young reader gain confidence while they have fun on the wacky adventures.

 The books are illiustrated in black and white. However, these are not ordinary illustrations. These are illustrations by the very man who, visually, created Winnie the Witch all those years ago. 

  

The popular illustrator and cartoonist Korky Paul has filled the pages with images of his Winnie, almost as if each story could be a picture book of its own. Winnie - and her adventures - almost jump out of the pages at you, making these books feel “louder” and much more involving than many books with small drawings aimed at this age.  

  I really liked the way that the pictures are definitely “drawings”, too: energetic, involving, and just untidy. enough to seem as if they are saying “Children, you can draw too. All you need is a pen or pencil!" Even the page numbers have their own little beastie drawn around them.

  

Having read these tales, I'd say that the lively Winnie, 25 years old in July, seems unwilling to grow up, older or any wiser at all. That must be her own particular magic.  

Happy Birthday, Winnie, and Party On!

,

 Penny Dolan

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The No.1 Car Spotter, by Atinuke - reviewed by John Dougherty

Most of the books I read when I was a child were about middle-class English children. When a child from another culture appeared it was generally their otherness rather than their childness that was the issue - except, of course when they were notionally children from another culture but behaved pretty much like middle-class English children with funny names. Similarly, those other cultures - when they appeared - were normally reduced to their differences from British culture.

That’s just one reason to celebrate Atinuke, who in Oluwase Babatunde Benson (better known as No. 1, the No.1 car spotter in the village) has created a character who is very much a real boy first and foremost, but who is also an authentic African child, living in a modern African village, and is therefore - to the best of my knowledge - pretty much unique in children’s literature.

The young European reader will be intrigued by some of the facts of life which No.1 takes for granted. Whilst he and his mother and sister and grandmother live together in the village, “my father, of course, lives in the city” like all the other men of working age. When Grandmother falls ill, she needs money before the doctor will see her. The entire village travels to market together to sell their home-grown produce.

Yet what makes this lovely little book really special is not the insight into life in semi-rural Africa, but No.1 himself. He’s enthusiastic, affectionate, creative, independent, dependable - the sort of child everyone would like to have as a friend - and readers will identify with him at least as much as they’ll be intrigued by his lifestyle.

The book is made up of 4 short stories about No.1’s life and family. In the first, the village cart breaks just as it’s due to be loaded for market, and only No.1’s quick thinking saves the day. In the second, Auntie Fine-Fine puts No.1 in an embarrassing position when she sends him to buy lipstick for her. The third story tells of how No.1 almost loses his prized nickname when greed for his friend Coca-Cola’s mother’s cooking leads him to desert his chores; whilst the fourth poses an interesting moral dilemma for No.1 when a way of finding the money for the doctor presents itself.

These are great little stories, told in a distinctive voice, perfect for reading aloud or alone. Yes, they’re educational, insofar as they’ll challenge the reader to think beyond his or her own culture and living conditions, but most importantly, they’re a lot of fun. And from the look of this video of Atinuke reading from the book, so is their author. It's thoroughly recommended, and I'm hoping there'll be more to follow this and its recently-published sequel, The No.1 Car Spotter and the Firebird.



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A SURPRISE OF A GUEST FOR WORLD BOOK DAY.

Awfully Big Review had hoped to bring you a Guest Review today for World Book Day but, as they say, life happened. A real life Guest didn’t work out.

All is not lost. 

Today I was out on a school visit, waiting in the hall. I ran my eyes over  rows of bright books in the enormous wheelie book fair crates and silently mutteried to myself about the mysterious world bookselling.

I was stopped short by a moment of delight. For a second, I was unable to believe the title although I’d understood it totally. Immediately I wanted to shout about it and today’s Awfully Big Review seemed just the place.

So allow me to introduce our World Book Day Guest, THE SLEEKIT MR TOD, who was, in his earlier version, one of my favourite Dahl inventions.

I do have very mixed feelings about the writer Roald Dahl. He had some fantastic ideas and wrote some great stories. AHowever, although the author is no longer with us, a campaign of enthusiastic marketing means that his face and books are displayed around classrooms across the land. 

It is almost as if Dahl has grown into a kind of BFG himself,. his legend overshadowing living children's authors and the current wealth of books, at least in many minds. His name is one of the few that all teachers know.

 

Bah! Away from such malignant thoughts and on to the glorious title. 

 The famous fox tale has been translated  by James Robertson, writer, Salture Book Award winner, poet and the first Writer in Residence at the Scottish Parliament. Here’s an extract of Robertson’s version for you to enjoy:

Mr Tod sleeked up the dark tunnel tae the mooth o his hole. He pit his lang brawsoe face oot intae the nicht air and took a snifter. He jeeds himself an inch or twa forrit and stapped.

He took anither snifter. He wis ayewise gey cannie when he cam oot fae his hole.

He jeeds forrit a wee bittie mair. The front hauf of him wis noo oot in the open.

His black neb twigged and wiggle-waggled, snowkin and snifterin for the scent o danger. He fund nane, and he wis jist aboot tae pad forrit intae the widd when he heard – or thocht he heard – a peerie wee soond, a saft reeshle, as if a body had moved a fit, jist as lown as could be, through a rickle o dry leaves.

Mr Tod streeked himsel flat on the grund and lay gey still, his lugs cockit. He steyed where he wis a lang while, but he didna hear ony mair

“It’ll hae been a moose,” he telt himsel, “or some ither wee beastie.”

Doesn't it make your lips twitch? Don’t you just want to taste those words and savour that vocabulary by reading the lines aloud? Isn’t the language warmed with the history of the north?

This book is a belated find. This translation was published in 2008 but I’d never heard of the title or seen it around. Which may, alas, explain its presence in the big metal bookcases, way down in the most difficult-to-discover corner. 

I shall enjoy reading it for myself by the fire, even though I am not sure how useful the sleekit's story would be for many young readers below the border. Or wa sit given free to all the school's in Scotland? Has anyone out there ever used it with children, anywhere? If so, do let me know!

Meanwhile, Happy World Book Day to you all - and to bold Mr Tod and his family safe in their “wee ablow-the-grund clachan.”

.

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There’s No Such Thing As Dragons by Philip Reeve: Penny Dolan

Opening a book by a favourite author is a mixed moment. Will it be as good as other titles or differently good – or just that tiny bit disappointing?

           

This book doesn’t at first suggest a brave new idea.  It is set in a kind of classic mid-European past and its hero is Ansel, a mute unwanted ten-year old boy bought as a servant by Brock the Dragon-Slayer, a man with a touch of faded glamour about him.

           

As gentle, likeable Ansel follows Brock, he discovers that Brock hides a supposed “dragon skull” in his baggage. He is confidence trickster who has never yet seen a dragon and now he is off to fleece those who live in the villages below the legendary Drachenberg mountain.

Reeve’s adults are not entirely nice people. The village already has a “saviour” in the form of Father Flegel of the red leather boots, who claims to keep the dragon away by the power of his prayers although the villagers have also made their own plans.

As Brock and Ansel set off on their climb, accompanied by the unwilling Flegel, the mountain and the quest reveal their treacherous nature – and of course there is a dragon.

The story is told in smooth, secure prose that supports the young reader even as it offers plenty of excitement, danger and a magnificently described trek across icy summits.

But what makes Reeve’s book so very satisfying to read – and why I am recommending it - is the way that at almost every point of the plot, he turns the traditional moments of quest and heroism kindly but wittily from dull expectation to sharp comment on the diffrence between dream and reality.

“Here Lies Arthur,” was Reeve’s novel for young adults about heroism but “There’s No Such Thing as Dragons” examines the same matter delightfully for the 9-12 year old child. It’s a tale that’s well worth reading and would be good for reading aloud. The illustrations are by the author too.

I read this novel without the slightest sense of disappointment and am very, very glad of that. Hope you enjoy it too!

 

Penny Dolan

www.pennydolan.com

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LOB by Linda Newbery, reviewed by Ann Turnbull

This lovely, poetic story for younger children has a classic feel to it.

Lucy's grandfather tells her about Lob, who helps him in his garden.  No-one else in the family can see Lob, but Grandpa Will knows he is there.  "Lob-work" is what he does: filling the watering-cans, sweeping up the leaves, cleaning the tools and hanging them neatly in the tool-shed.  Only certain people can see Lob.  Lucy longs to be one of them, and is thrilled when at last she catches a glimpse of him.

So far, so idyllic.  But change comes, and it's sudden and brutal.  Lucy must cope with loss and with an undermining of her belief.  And Lob must set off in search of a new home. As Lucy, in south London, longs for Lob to come to her, so Lob, walking the roads, feels a pull towards the south and follows it, despite setbacks and danger.

Walking is slow.  During the year that Lucy waits for Lob, she learns to adapt to her changed life, to resist the taunts of others and hold fast to her beliefs, and - above all - to have patience as the seasons come and go.  And in the end, all is well.

This is a story that celebrates the life-force, the earth itself, and all green, growing things.  It's about the joy of gardening, the neighbourliness of allotments, the cycle of life and age-old beliefs in the Green Man.  It's also about the stranger in our midst who may be in need of kindness.  Lob - a tired little old man on the road, and yet the one who will bring new life to all growing things - is a powerful image.

The black and white illustrations by Pam Smy perfectly complement the story.  They are subtle, with a secretive feel to them.  And here and there, if you look closely, you may see Lob.

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And Rocky Too by Jayne Woodhouse, reviewed by John Dougherty

My children got very excited when And Rocky Too dropped through the letterbox. Like me, they’d loved The Stephensons’ Rocket, Jayne Woodhouse’s first story about injured greyhound Rocky and the troubled family who, in taking him in, find themselves drawn back together.

We weren’t disappointed. And Rocky Too contains many of the same elements that made the first book such a delight: page-turning plot, humour, warmth, human interest, and a set of compelling characters. All the original cast make a welcome return - Rocky, of course; grumpy old neighbour Wilf; bad boy Marcus Harding; well-meaning but impractically optimistic Dad; exhausted and exasperated Mum; irritating younger brother Darren; and sensible heroine Anna, whose very credible narrative voice skilfully manages the difficult trick of conveying both objective reality and subjective experience without compromising either.

Following the events of the first book, the Stephenson family faces a new crisis - or rather, two new crises; for on top of Dad’s loss of his much-needed job, Darren’s friendship with Marcus appears to be on the rocks. It turns out that Marcus has a problem - his own family life, which makes the Stephensons’ look idyllic by comparison - and it's the uncovering of this problem which provides much of the narrative thrust. 

Jayne Woodhouse has, once again, done a wonderful job with this story. A number of the established characters are beautifully developed further - notably Wilf, who gets the opportunity to show his warmer and wiser side without losing any of his lovable crotchetiness, and Anna, whose hurt reaction to her Dad’s behaviour is entirely convincing - and whilst it touches on unemployment, potential family breakdown, mental illness, and the plight of juvenile carers, And Rocky Too never becomes a book about issues. It’s very much a book about people.

I was a little disappointed that, having tied up all the loose ends, Woodhouse introduces another one in the very final paragraph. Clearly the intention is to make us want to read the next book - but there really is no need. If the next book is anything like the first two, we’ll want to read it.

My children (now a little older than in the picture) wanted me to say that - while they do also enjoy books with fantastical elements - they really like the books about Rocky because they’re realistic. I’ll go along with that.

And Rocky Too by Jayne Woodhouse, published in 2011 by The Clucket Press. £5.99 in paperback. ISBN 978-0-9549256-9-7

This review will also appear in Armadillo

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I Don’t Believe It Archie, by Andrew Norriss. Reviewed by John Dougherty

One of my favourite comic literary ideas is Douglas Adams’s Infinite Improbability Drive, which enables a spaceship to travel infinitely improbable distances by generating a field within which the infinitely improbable can, and does, occur. It’s a notion of genius, because (at least within the context of the story) it provides a plausible mechanism whereby absolutely anything can happen.

In I Don’t Believe It, Archie, Andrew Norriss has come up with an equally clever idea. Archie is a child to whom unusual things happen just about every day, simply because - well, because they just do. After all, there are plenty of people to whom nothing unusual ever happens; and somebody must be at the other end of the spectrum, mustn’t they?

It’s reasonable, uncomplicated, and - in Norriss’s hands - makes for a very entertaining book. It would be easy, given the premise, for the author to go completely overboard and introduce aliens, magic, and zombies; but he takes the sensible course of sticking to the believable but highly unlikely - so, for instance, Archie finds himself stuck in a house with an escaped leopard, or mistaken for a kidnap victim, or accidentally glued to the library doors by an inept protestor. The story is episodic, each chapter taking place on a single day in the same week, though young readers will love how the final chapter neatly ties all the others together.

Archie himself is an endearing hero, resilient yet resigned - to the facts both that all these strange things keep happening to him, and that the grown-ups he meets just won’t believe his account of things. In fact, it’s easy to see Archie’s adventures as a metaphor for childhood - a time of life when much of what happens is unexpected, and when the grown-ups around you insist on imposing their own interpretations on events. Fortunately, in the first chapter he meets Cyd, a girl with a huge amount of common sense and the ability to remain calm in the face of strangeness. Both children are very believable and immensely sympathetic, and appealingly drawn by our own Hannah Shaw; and their developing friendship through the story is really quite touching.

My own children loved the story - at the start of the summer I received a big box of books for review purposes, and this was one of their absolute favourites. I loved it too - it's funny, clever, and well-written - and one of the many things I love about the concept is that it leaves room for an unlimited number of sequels. I’m hoping that I Still Don’t Believe It, Archie is already in production.

I Don't Believe It, Archie  by Andrew Norriss, illustrated by Hannah Shaw.
Published August 2011 by David Fickling Books. Hardcover price £10.99.
ISBN 978-0857560100

Reviewed by John Dougherty - www.visitingauthor.com

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Emily's Surprising Voyage by Sue Purkiss, illustrated by James de la Rue Review by Emma Barnes

Emily, a sparky young Victorian lass, is embarking on a long voyage to Australia, where her mill owner father wants to investigate new business opportunities.

Emily does not want to go, but her voyage is almost immediately enlivened when she meets Thomas – a young lad from a much poorer background than her own - and notices a rat peeking out from his pocket. Thomas has sneaked his pet on board, and Emily is soon involved in helping the rat, Barney, to avoid capture.

While Emily’s genteel mother has the vapours in the first class drawing-room, Emily is soon involved in a satisfying adventure. It brings her into contact for the first time with children far below her own social sphere, and leads her to question her own assumptions about her family’s wealth and ethics. She finds she knows very little about the mills which are the source of her family fortune, and which Thomas has experienced at first hand; still less about the dreaded work-houses.

Emily’s Surprising Voyage is that very unusual thing: a straight piece of historically accurate fiction for children, with no fantastical elements tagged on, and even more unusually it is aimed at 7-9s, whose fictional opportunities sometimes seem limited to fantasy or the present day. The ship Emily sails on is a real ship: the SS Great Britain, which was the first-ever iron ship, designed by the renowned Victorian engineer, Brunel. As well as providing a fascinating setting, it is a clever means of bringing together characters who would normally never meet.

The book feels meticulously researched and Emily herself believable and authentic – her ignorance of social conditions (which cunningly mirrors the likely ignorance of the reader) is credible given the privileged world in which she has been raised. Her father is a snob, her mother is a fool, but Emily is neither and she is horrified when she learns of the conditions in which some children live

All this is powerful stuff for a child: as I found when I gave this book to a seven-year old, who was completely over-whelmed to read for the first time of the poverty suffered in a by-gone age. A truly broadening read – and a great jumping-off point for discussion, at home or school.

Part of Walker’s Racing Reads series, this is also an absolutely beautifully produced book, with a gorgeous cover and wonderful illustrations by James de la Rue.

• Format: Paperback
• ISBN: 9781406321821
• Published: 02 Aug 2010
• Price: £3.99

Reviewed by Emma Barnes – www.emmabarnes.info

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CAN YOU SLAY A SAUSAGE? DIGORY the DRAGON SLAYER by Angela McAllister. Review by Penny Dolan

Reviewing for children or young people isn’t about one’s own reading habits. This time, the reader in mind isn’t a fully-grown woman in an armchair with a mug of good coffee and a couple of chocolate biscuits.

The reader I’m searching out books for is a certain seven-year-old. She borrows the popular series titles from her local library – while it still exists – but I like to offer her stories that are a bit different and possibly a little less girly.

Now I’ve found a storybook that she might like – and certainly I enjoyed it. 

Digory The Dragon Slayer by Angela McAllister is told with a strong, true storyteller’s voice. Timid lute-player Digory discovers a dragon’s tooth in the river bank. Unwisely, he sets it in his hat. As a result his proud village, without asking too many awkward questions, sends Digory off to find fame, fortune and more dragons to slay.

Riding on Barley, his faithful horse, Digory avoids several huffy princesses before arriving at the castle of forgetful King Widget. Here Digory meets Princess Enid - she of the hodge-pig hair and tree-climbing skills – and they become such good friends that King Widget invites Digory to be a Prince. Digory happily agrees which is when Widget remembers Digory has to fight a dragon first. 

Our hero sadly sets off on Barley away from any dragon but his poor sense of direction sends him into a dark and troubling tunnel, facing his doom. A happy ending arrives, but from a most unexpected source.

I felt McAllister had fun weaving her unexpected twists into the story but what made it a real delight to read was her playful use of language. Digory even, at his most “shiverous” moment knows he is “one boy alone who doesn’t know how to slay a sausage”, while down in the dragon-filled tunnel there’s a boasting contest I'm sure will be great fun to read aloud.

There are gentle jokes, pace, action and just enough gruesomeness for the folk-story genre  but how refreshing - if that’s the right word  – to find a book that doesn’t use snot and poo in an effort to be exciting.

Design-wise, the layout is attractive, the font clear and there are plenty of b&w illustrations by Ian Beck. Even more helpfully for the young reader, the nine chapters are divided into easy to enjoy mini-chapters so the reader feels as if the author is there, telling and explaining the tale. So I am hoping, though the hero is a boy, a certain story-loving girl will enjoy it, and enjoy having it read to her. 

And there’s even a DIGORY and THE LOST KING as a second helping. 

Title: Digory the Dragon Slayer

Author: Angela McAllister

Illustrator: Ian Beck

Publisher: Bloomsbury

ISBN: 9780747 579441

Edition & price & date.  Pbk 2005 at £5.99.  Audio version also available.

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