by Colin Davies
It's quite a
funny thing to say “I write for children” when to be honest, I actually write
for me. Even though I enjoy 90% of a Stephen King novel as much as the next man
(or woman), it is the stories that are reported as being written for children
that I have always found the most intriguing.
This might be
because once you cut out the swearing and any sexual reference (unless you're
writing for teenagers, but I'll talk about the dangers of dating a vampire
while dick-teasing the local werewolf another day) you can pretty much write
about whatever you want.
It's like
total escapism. Jumping through holes that take you to the magical yet sinister
lands; secret platforms to catch trains to mystical boarding schools; making a
complete mess while cooking after you've been told not to; making more of a
mess while trying to clean up the first mess; trying to keep the carers of the
children's home away so they don't know what you've done.
Spike
Milligan used to write children's poetry and published a number of books. Roald
Dahl wrote with a dark yet exciting style to entertain his granddaughter, while
writing a James Bond script (You Only Live Twice) and helping to invent a life
saving artificial heart valve (WRT Valve). Even J. R. R. Tolkien had a
fascination with old nursery rhymes that had been handed down through the ages.
So, as I was
saying, I don't see these as children's writers. I view them as writers of high
imagination, with the skills to create images in my head by feeding me just the
right amount of information that my own imagination can use to create the
worlds with such vivid colours and smells and textures that I believe in them
wholeheartedly.
From the
nonsense
Beware
the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!
(Lewis Carroll)
To the silly
A hundred
hair scavengers,
Sitting down
to lunch.
Gobble,
gobble,
Glub, glub,
Munch, munch,
munch.
(Spike Milligan)
Basically,
texts advertised as children's literature are nothing more than writings that
adults will enjoy reading to their little one.
Nooks and Crannies
Look inside a
Nook,
In the
shadows of the wall
See if you
can find a Cranny
Who won't do
you harm at all
But do not
disturb,
The Slinth on
guard.
With big
sharp teeth,
And bite,
real hard.
Or place your
hand
on a
slumbered Wozat
Who's skin
oozes slime,
Under it's
tiny top hat.
Or Fix the
gaze
Of a hiding
Oodare
That'll take
the sight from your eyes
with it's
granite like stare
And avoid the
attentions
Of the sneaky
Abgroblit
With his
sticky fingers
Will steal
from your pocket
And never let
your guard down
Against a
Bull nosed Snerr
With a stench
like rotting toe nails
So you'll
know that it's there.
Stay clear of
nasties,
Avoid
critters as you look.
For the
harmless Crannies,
Under
shadows, in a Nook.
Colin Davies is the author of the successful children's book, Mathamagical: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Mathamagical-Colin-Davies/dp/1905949006
2 comments:
Love this post. We have a rich heritage of children's literature to draw on and you've mentioned some of my all time favourites here.
Ash
Loved this poem on the night, something very Roald Dahl about the creatures there. Brilliant!
:-)
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