Memory is unstable, and perspectives change. I’ve been looking for books to read for Jessica (aged 8) and Sophie (aged almost 7). Ones that have accessible vocabularies, engaging plots, and a touch of fairy magic. A month or so ago I was in Planet Books (the best bookstore I’ve been in here in Australia) and came across a re-issue of Enid Blyton’s The Magic Faraway Tree.

I don’t remember how old I was when I first encountered the adventures of Dick, Fanny, Bessie, Silky and Old Moonface as they climbed the enormous magical tree in search of the enchanted lands that could be found at its top, but I’d guess maybe six or so. My recollection was that they were very much the kind of story I was looking for, so I bought a copy and brought it home.

From the first the girls were engrossed, Sophie especially, and wanted me to read them a chapter and then another. It was a wonderful experience. Except…I couldn’t help noticing things about the book that I hadn’t noticed when I was six or seven. Names had changed – Dick was Rick, Fanny was Frannie – but I could understand that (even if it’s always a bit dubious). But what troubled me was the plot.

The stories center around three children, a brother and two sisters. They’re all close in age, with the boy the eldest. In every instance when there was an action to take in the stories the girls deferred to their brother. If they wanted to go to the Enchanted Wood they asked him, if there was decision to make they deferred to his choice. Over and over ago they turned to him for approval or authority or guidance. While I wouldn’t have liked it, I could have understood it if he was noticeably older (say he was 17 and then were six or seven), but they’re all close in age. It just really bothers me.

The books were written in 1939 or so, so I asked my mother who was born in the UK in 1938 if this was typical or common at the time – my own experience is that girls of that age do not defer to boys like that at all (and I think I would have been creeped out if they had). She assured me she’d never come across anything like it, and Northern Ireland at the time was somewhere were you would have, had it happened.

Anyway, it was weird and disturbing and I think Blyton can quietly stay on the shelf from now on. There are plenty of other stories to choose from.

Ellen Datlow reports that Thomas M. Disch has died.  I never met him, but I read a number of his difficult, challenging and restless works over the years, and welcomed his recent return with a handful of new books this past year.  It’s sad news. May he rest in peace, now.

Truthfully, you will only care about this if you’ve visited our home. We moved here in December 2002. We needed a new home and this one seemed perfect. It had a lovely front room with polished floorboards, high ceiling etc. We loved it. So, we filled it with boxes and junk for six years. We have family coming to stay for ten days, arriving tonight so we cleared it out. Temporarily it’s a bedroom, which looks like this:

There are more photos here.  It’s on its way to becoming a great living room.  Progress is slow, but it happens.

There’s a very interesting post about Margo Lanagan’s story “The Goosle” over at the Vector Editor’s blog. The story is shaping up to be one of the more interesting and controversial of the year.  In the hands of a lazy or imprecise writer it might be a very poor and ill-considered work, but Lanagan is neither lazy or imprecise.  She’s one of the most gifted, interesting and careful story writers working today.  “The Goosle” is a story that plainly requires closer and more careful reading, and would exhort anyone interested to do so.

…to let you know that if I’ve been slow in responding to anything or owe you an email, I am sorry and will get to it.  Things have been a little crazy here, which has shown.  We have the house almost ready for our houseguests (yay!).  We’re almost ready for the trip away with them to Western Australia’s south west (almost yay!). I’ve also been focussed on going through my first job application process in fifteen years, Sophie was unwell (but seems really fine now), and other stuff.  No excuse though. I will be in touch.  And if I’m not, please feel free to bug me.  I’m not trying to overlook you.