Not putting away childish things…………..
Copyright Michael W Beales BEM Creative Commons Licence.
There are books from my childhood that I have no memory of, and then there are those books which made a huge impression, and loomed large, and have been periodically, and pleasurably, read again throughout my adult life. And this is one, my absolute favourite of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s works.
My guess is that any little girl with the remotest thread of fierce independence in her nature will identify with Mary and will also have idolised and envied Dickon, with his ability to charm the birds and squirrels from the trees, fox-cubs from their lairs, not to mention surly adults and surlier children!
Written in 1911, there are of course attitudes to class and race which are deeply 
patronising, but what enchanted me so as a child was the delight in and celebration of, the natural world, in a way which almost verges on the mystical. As a child (and an adult) who had a huge love of the plant and animal kingdom ‘The Secret Garden’ spoke to me powerfully. My guess this book feeds right into some deeply satisfying archetype of a lost, but recoverable, Paradise, which even a child resonates with.
Delighted to find a Kindle version with illustrations. The formatting isn’t perfect – the full page illustration and its caption occur on separate pages, and often there is also a blank page (not a missing page) before the picture, but this is a minor interference to enjoyment.
The illustrations on the digital version I have are by the American illustrator Tashia Tudor. (though in black and white rather than the colour of the paper version) Unfortunately the American digi version with Tudor’s drawings either seems to be a hideously expensive out of print paper version, or a very cut down (dumbed down?) version of the original rewritten for a younger audience. Why? Tudor’s illustrations are lovely, very in keeping with the period of the book. UK Kindlers are fortunate to be able to have the combination of the proper text, and the lovely illustrations. Having your cake and eating it indeed!
I reckon I may be the only person in the world who’s never read or seen The Secret Garden…
Oh poor FictionFan – I’m making an emergency parcel of a coal scuttle, a selection of Victorian pinnies and a job-lot of redemptive singing robins in their nests to send to you (suggest keeping the redeeming robins away from marauding cats if the magic is to work)
I’ve read that three times and I see no mention of cake? What kind of emergency parcel doesn’t contain cake?!?
You had singing robins in their nests; they ate the cake. Simples!
I haven’t read or seen it, either. My parents were not big readers during my childhood because they were always too busy working. They didn’t buy books and, sadly, we rarely went to the library. So there are many children’s classics I’ve never read. I’ve been trying to make up for lost time with my son, but he has no interest in The Secret Garden. He’s all about contraptions, inventions, and scatological humor. Sigh.
Oh Jilianne – I can’t imagine a childhood without books. Something i was lucky in, I was taught to read before going to school by a couple of neighbouring bossy older children who were learning to read and keen to demonstrate their superiority over me by playing headmistress! I know I was told stories, and read to very young, but I was actually DESPERATE to know the secret of how to do this myself, so the young bossers were heaven sent. My mother was a voracious reader, so was probably delighted that I wanted to DIY my reading so she could get on with her own.
Funnily enough, there are a lot of children’s books I DIDN’T read because I was from the start allowed access to HER books, as she reckoned anything i was old enough to understand i was free to read, so I read quite a lot of adult books at a fairly young age
Secret Garden is probably a bit too ‘girl’ orientated, and Little Lord Fauntleroy is too, well – GOOD to appeal to either boys or girls I think
Yes, both you and FF were fortunate to have parents who were readers. My mother fancied crossword puzzles and played Scrabble like a fiend, so I developed a love for word games from her. But it was my aunt who in later years opened her collection of books to me. Her house was chockablock with books that were never dusted, and she gave me free rein. So at that point, I started reading Lady Chatterly’s Lover (because I thought I was so grown up) and never went back to children’s books—until I became a bookseller on my way to being a writer. Then I had my own child and really discovered the depth of children’s literature. So I keep slipping “classics” into my sons reading pile. Sometimes it’s successful, and sometimes he just wants to read graphic novels.
‘Her house was chockablock with books that were never dusted’ Er………guilty as stated, m’lud!
I hope you didn’t think I was criticizing how she kept house. :o) It was one of the things that fascinated me about her home. Like what I would imagine entering the library of Alexandria would have been like had it not perished.
No not at all Jiliane (isn’t it amazing – and rather wonderful – how sensitive we all are about worrying we might have given offence!) If I had a bigger place I would have MORE surprising nooks and crannies where books could migrate, settle and be festooned with cobwebs. Its SO much more satisfying to think you are trying to emulate the library of Alexandria, rather than thinking ‘oh gosh, I suppose I ought to do the dusting before (insert name of very houseproud friend) comes round!
:o)
My parents didn’t read much either (Dad too busy, Mum had cataracts) but had both been readers when they were young, and Mum read voraciously in her later years once the cataracts had been removed. But it was BigSister, who coincidentally is my big sister, who used to drag me to the library every week and who guided my early reading – so like LF I was reading stuff that was really considered ‘too old’ for me from quite an early age. BigSister still feels she has to keep me right from time to time, though! 😉
I wish I had other kids in my life who were interested in forcefeeding me books. Instead, I had one brother who was in college before I was of reading age and the other brother was a “doer” not a reader. And since we lived on a farm, there weren’t many children nearby. The older of my brothers is still BigBrother, though, dispensing advice to all who will listen (and to those who turn a deaf ear). :o)
I’ve noticed it’s generally people without bossy siblings who regret the lack! Between BigSister forcing books on me (or ticking me off for reading things I ‘shouldn’t’), MiddleSister who used to drag me to classical ballet, and BigBrother trying to educate me in music and foreign films, I’ve frequently considered emigrating! I keep trying to give one of my siblings to LF but so far she’s managed to dodge it.
I’d like to borrow the house cleaning one. I think about 3 or 4 times a year would suit me fine. As i suspect she might also be the baking one no doubt she would arrive with a case full of samples. That will also be fine by me
Smart woman. :o)
About the “dumbing down.” There is a significant faction in the book industry, I think, who believe that books with pictures are for children who are not yet reading. In the U.S., children are being pressed into reading as early as age 4 and start to think that picture books “are for babies” once they can read on their own. Thus, the pool of readers for picture books is shrinking because they’re only being marketed to the preschool set. I know that the text for My Secret Garden is much longer, really it’s a book with illustrations, so I don’t know what they’re thinking.
In any case, I do think this is sad.
That’s really interesting Jiliane. I suppose Secret Garden is for 9-12 year olds (or was, I guess most 12s would be raising supercilious eyebrows at this and wanting the sophistication of The Hunger Games!) There’s not a WHIFF of sex in SG and the friendship with Dickon is completely platonic!
Yes, it seems that children possess a keen radar system that detects any whiff of “old-fashionedness” in a book. Then they are quick to toss it aside. My son loved the trilogy about Frightful the falcon, written by Jean Craighead George, but he’s been spurning other excellent “older” novels recently.
PS This comment thread is probably longer than the cut-down US version with the Tashia Tudor illustrations!
I too sadly did not grow up with books or beautiful music as a child – but, oh gosh, did I make up for this in adult life!!! and will as long as my eyes will see and my ears will hear – we now have a libary in our house of nearly 6000 books and especially my husband can be found reading not one but 3-4 books at the same time – but, no novels for him, history, Bio- and Autobiography, while I do like my novels and travel books. And for the SG – its never too late to read books like these (for: FictionFan) 🙂
Six thousand! Faints with pleasure! (I have visions of you coming down in the mornings to find your house full of reading obsessed housebreakers, who break in, not to steal, but to read through the night!)