Evil Enid and Revolting Roald

Recently Charles and I have started reading Charlotte chapter books – starting with the estimable Enid Blyton.  I remember those books being absolutely thrilling when I was a child and no wonder!  As I read The Enchanted Wood I realised that these kids are completely obsessed with fooling their parents into giving them the day off helping out with chores so they can sneak away to the potentially deadly delights of the Faraway Tree.  In the very first chapters they almost get caught in the land at the top of the Faraway Tree and then they slink home, frightened and exhilarated.

“Mama,” Charlotte said at the end of that one, “Do you know what I bet they’re going to do?”

“What’s that darling?”

“I bet they’re going to go home and tell their parents what happened so next time their parents can go with them and make sure that they’re safe.”

Sure, or they could go home, say nothing and sneak away again at the soonest opportunity.  There’s also the small matter of the children’s mother peaceably accepting their obvious psychedelic drug-induced* rantings and dismissing Joe’s absence as “I expect he just wanted to have a sleepover at that queer man’s house”.

Gay times with that queer man.

Roald Dahl was worse but for different reasons.  When confronted by nasty Grandma who taunts and torments the tiny George out of earshot of his parents Charlotte piped up with;

“Mama, do you know what I would do if she was my Grandma?”

“No darling, what would you do?”

“I’d say ‘Your behaviour is unacceptable and your attitude needs adjusting!’”

George, on the other hand, concocts a chemical soup full of literally everything available on the farm and disguises it as medicine which he then feeds to nasty Grandma.

I have a sinking feeling about this chapter book business.

*  Tiny Brownies perched on magic toadstools my butt!