Sure I Know the Queen

By Jodie

When I was at school we were taught that the Victorians were the embodiment of an ideal English spirit. They were stoic, athletic, serious minded and far too busy inventing to be interested in sex. Compared with the dashing cavaliers of the Stuart age and the riotous indulgence of the Tudor period the Victorians sounded like the dullest kind of ancestors. Cajoled into taking a course on Victorian society in university I still couldn’t shake the prejudice I’d formed when I was ten. I skipped lectures and scowled my way through the saccharine parts of ‘Oliver Twist’. However, I’m beginning to think this was the biggest mistake I made at university, at least the biggest mistake I made while sober. Two novels I’ve read recently suggest that modern authors are determined to peel back the layers of stoicism, and undergarments associated with the Victorians to increase popular awareness of the way contemporary historians now view this period.


The blurb for Clare Clark’s ‘The Great Stink’ will lead readers to pick it up expecting a slightly spooky, but familiar feeling story of secrets, lies and detection, set in the sewers of Victorian London. That is not what they will find between the book’s covers. Instead Clark presents her readers with a dark descent into madness, self harm and post traumatic stress. Clark’s hero William May has returned from the vicious battles of the Crimea with serious psychological damage, but is required to hide this to hold on to a job working as an engineer on London’s evolving sewer system. In the absence of understanding or treatment he finds his own way of coping, by hiding in the sewer tunnels and violently self-harming. His fragile mental state begins to fracture, and Victorian society reveals how brutal it can be when a man’s behavior doesn’t fit the mould.


William is an example of how the repression of the Victorian world created the people it despised. We are told William is a happy young man before he goes to war, fond of drawing plants and engaged to a girl he loves. When he returns he strives to recapture the interests of his previous life, as well as his mental stability, but as he is unable to talk about his feelings he is denied the chance to heal. So he becomes the crazed mental patient that everyone from his previous life views with fear and disgust, although their stifling rules of decorum have forced him to this point. Clark has created a new way of approaching the darkness hidden in the impeccable manners of the Victorians, and the crushing pressure exerted on those most in need of support.


The heroine of ‘Dora Damage’ by Belinda Starling breaks every kind of taboo present in Victorian society. She takes over her husband’s bookbinding business when his arthritis cripples him. To make a living she must bind and read material considered very unsuitable for a lady, beginning with medical texts then moving on to erotica and pornography. She takes on a freed slave to help in her workshop and begins a relationship with him. She employs a young, unmarried woman who has a history of trouble with men. She continues to work during her mourning period when her husband dies. All around her other characters are engaging in activities the Victorians would have seen as vices: Dora’s husband is addicted to opium, her apprentice is ‘not interested in having a sweetheart’ and her employers are selling illegal literature.


Starling does not settle for presenting vice that is now a kind of historical curiosity, like several of those above. She has some of her characters break one taboo that will genuinely shock readers, and this transgression adds to the delicious sense of gothic, spine tingling horror that pervades much of the book. Starling takes the most salacious hidden secrets of Victorian times and combines these with villains to really fear.


To my delight the Victorians are being revealed and reinvented in contemporary fiction. I’m glad I had the chance (http://victorianchallenge.blogspot.com/2008/12/welcome-to-victorian-challenge.html) to find out how wonderfully wicked they could be.

Sure I Know the Queen

By Jodie

Three centuries after Henry V’s campaigns the English and the French still can’t seem to put their neighbourly disputes behind them. Someone always seems to be playing loud music at night, or refusing to trim a hedge that blocks next door’s sunlight. Little seems to have changed as Captain William Laurence and his crew board a French ship in the early pages of Naomi Novik’s ‘Temeraire’, which is set during the Napoleonic conflicts. Yet Novik has created an exceptionally inventive novel of alternate history that revitalises the genre of war stories, set during Napoleon’s advance on Britain. By taking the most entertaining elements of the great naval stories and fantasy novels, then mixing in components from stories of bomber crews she pushes all three genres in new directions, and enables readers to delve deeply into the psychology of her characters.

Captain William Laurence is making a name for himself as a naval man, until he captures a French prize containing extraordinary cargo. On board the frigate is a box containing a dragon’s egg, almost ready to hatch, and Laurence must find one of his crew to imprint the dragon on birth so that it can be used in the service of the British Air Corps. The crew draw straws reluctantly; though the Air Corps may be respected for their bravery naval officers do not envy their way of life. A young crew member is chosen, but when the dragon hatches it is Laurence who instinctively imprints him, naming him Temeraire. By attaching himself to the young dragon Laurence cuts himself off from society, because of general snobbery about dragon riders, and must end his engagement. However he embarks on the most significant relationship of his life, with his dragon.

Novick writes physical, fast battle scenes, which are essential in any novel about the fighting forces. The reader’s attention is grabbed by the fierce descriptions of the sheer power of dragons fighting, but the author also pays great attention to the passionate activities of the human crew. She creates the close, intensity of the traditionally described naval battle with the added emotions of fighting to save a living ‘ship’. The reader is presented with two battles at the same time, as the human crew try to save their dragon and destroy another, while the dragons defend their crew and fight for their human’s cause. The descriptions of battles are powerful and frenzied, despite the crew’s control:

“ ‘ Get a bomb up here,’ Laurence snapped to Granby; they would have to try and hurl one into the Chevlier’s belly rigging, despite the danger of missing and striking Temeraire or Lily. Temeraire kept slashing away in a blind passion, his sides belling out for breath; he roared so tremendously that his body vibrated with the force and Laurence’s ear ached with the force of it. The Chevalier shuddered with pain; somewhere on his other side, Maximus also roared, blocked from Laurence’s sight by the French dragon’s bulk.”

Novick is also a skilled world builder. She has adapted history to include dragons, that feel like a natural addition to the world. She has also invented a strong bond between the main characters which never feels forced, or like blind adoration. Laurence has his regrets about abandoning his old life, and Temeraire sometimes feels unhappy about the pain he may cause Laurence, but they work hard at their friendship so that this, and the natural bond they feel overcomes these problems. One of the most enjoyable parts of this book is seeing the level of closeness between the dragons and their riders, especially when reading about the everyday adventures that cement Laurence and Temeraire’s friendship, like reading and swimming.

Novick obviously plans to explore issues about the ethics of war, especially the use of the concepts of loyalty and duty to keep troops fighting, throughout this series. This will be another welcome, modern addition to the story of the fight against the French. The British resistance is back in fine form, but with dragons involved patriotism may not be as simple as it once appeared.

Sure, I Know the Queen, February 2009

By Jodie

The British have been in some scrapes throughout history. Like the smallest guy in a bar our tiny island loves to pick a fight with countries that are bigger than it. We’ve held smack downs with every country bigger than Jersey: America, China, Spain, the list really stretches on. We’ve even managed to fight amongst ourselves with individual countries bitch slapping each other and infighting among countrymen. Big battles involving Britain have always captured the imagination of authors, but recently fiction writers seem to be especially interested in the grudge that just won’t die. Over the next two columns I’ll be looking at two recent books that indicate the resurgence of interest in Britain’s long term battle with France.

British forces have fought the French repeatedly, mostly I suspect, because they could. France was close, making it one of the most convenient countries to fight with. Their close proximity meant that they kept doing things to annoy the British, like the Battle of Hastings. Clearly that was uncalled for.

In the thirteenth century Henry V of England decided that the French had committed the ultimate annoyance by ‘stealing’ the French crown, which was of course rightfully his. Henry embarked on a military campaign, considering himself fully entitled to rule France, although generations of kings had previously waived their right to the crown in return for compensation. It was undermanned and plagued by disease, it should have failed miserably. The fact that Henry finally beat the French into submission despite having wildly inadequate numbers of men is often trumpeted as an example of Henry’s shining leadership. In his newest book ‘Azincourt’ Bernard Cornwell focuses more on the men, specifically the archers who made up Henry’s army, portraying the victory as a result of solid training and a spirited will to survive.

The main character, Nick Hook needs to get out of England fast. He’s just hit a priest, which will get you hanged in Henry’s religious reign, even if the priest is a mad, rapist like Father Martin. Nick joins up with a group of archers hired to work in the town of Soissons in Burgundy and is in the town when treachery occurs. A bloody massacre of English archers is carried out by the French. Nick is the only English archer to return alive from Soissons and finds himself enrolled in Henry’s archers under the training of the formidable John Cornewaille. This sets Nick on the road to the epic battles of Harfleur and Agincourt.

Although the book was always going to be focused on the battles, what with the final conflict being in the title, I felt that sometimes the book was too focused on the specifics of weaponry. Long descriptions of different kinds of arrows and the process of making them often dominated the pages between the battles. While Cornwall has obviously researched his subject thoroughly and feels passionately about all aspects of military history, sometimes he lets his own enthusiasms break through in a way which makes the book drag. However this detailed look at thirteenth century weapons will probably be a bonus for those interested in military history.

When battle commences Cornwall creates a strong sense of the horrors that would have occurred but also leads the reader through the action at a pace, encouraging them on as the soldiers would have been propelled forward by the ranks behind. It is possible to be easily swept up in the tide of men fording their way on through the enemy’s ranks, so the reader can get close to the genuine atmosphere of the battles. Yet Cornwall is also always sharply focused, directing the reader to the details he feels they should not miss along the way. This mixture of instinctive empathy and removed observation gives the reader a multi layered experience of the battle scenes, enhancing the experience of reading this novel.

The book concentrates firmly on the ordinary soldier and those who physically trained them, almost ignoring the king. Although Henry appears at several points many of his appearances are concealed as Hook does not immediately recognise him or Henry believes himself disguised. His impact on the troops is minimized, although many familiar scenes appear such as the St Crispin’s Day speech. This removal of the royal commander is a fascinating new way of portraying the French campaign. It reflects the importance of the recent reassessment by social historians who have moved away from focusing on kings and aristocratic heroes to look at the contribution of the masses. Cornwall portrays a victory at Agincourt that comes because of the British archers need to kill to survive not because of superior military planning. At some point their determination to die taking French soldiers with them overwhelms the other side and they begin to win, almost without realizing it. Survival is won by the bloody work of ordinary soldiers in Cornwall’s world not gifted by the magical influence of charmed kings.

Sure, I Know the Queen

By Jodie

At the beginning of Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Portrait of Dorian Gray’ the main character makes a wish that ensures his life will follow an evil path. Confronted with a portrait of his beautiful youth he wishes that the painting may age while he remains forever young. It is a thoughtless wish, made with no expectation that it will come true but his wish is granted, by some force and every experience that should age and warp its owner mars the portrait instead. It sounds like a dream situation for Dorian Gray, a young socialite, blooming and admired but all well read people know that a gift of eternal anything is never simple.

Dorian realises that the picture will take on all the sins that would brand his appearance after he ends an affair cruelly. After breaking off an engagement with an unworldly actress he notices that the portrait’s mouth has a new cruel set to it. Upon discovering this he has to make a decision, he can continue to live a life according to his pleasures at the expense of others or he can use the portrait as a spur to be virtuous, knowing that it will become uglier with every crime he commits. At first he plans to follow the later course but when he finds his jilted fiancée has killed herself he loses his willpower and embarks on a life of hatred and decadence. At intervals throughout his life he tries to become good but always fails.

While the decision to let his portrait bear the marks of his sick soul seems to have little outward effect on Dorian’s life it quietly destroys him and those around him. He is shunned in some society, his friends and lovers mostly meet terrible ends by being associated with him and the twisted portrait sits upstairs in his house filling his mind with paranoia and disgust. Everything in him seems ruined because of the wish he made and the fact that he allows the painting to be a deposit for his sins instead of a visible conscience. But was this decision such a dramatic cataclysm in the young man’s life? Although Dorian is described in glowing prose by the enamoured Basil at the beginning of the book he is hardly an angel made flesh in character. He is cutting about Basil and worships him, painting the cursed portrait and he is weak under the influence of society, especially the devilish Sir Henry. This makes it hard to believe that Dorian would have been able to live a strict, moral life. He is vain and wants to preserve his looks but this alone could not have kept him from vice as it would be inevitable that he age. Perhaps he would not have indulged so excessively but it is likely that he would have found it hard to keep himself from the pleasures he loved.

The writing and publishing of this book also involved some fateful decisions that led to terrible consequences for its author. Oscar Wilde decided to publish the novel, which talks openly about scandalous subjects like ruined women, opium and prostitution and contains extremely broad hints that the main characters may be gay. This novel went on to be material evidence in the trial that set him to prison in 1895 and effectively ended his career and life, as he died three years after being released. He could be seen as an activist, reaching a point in his life where he could no longer hide who he really was or as someone who believed his celebrity would protect him from charges.

After first publishing this novel Wilde came to realise his mistake, perhaps becoming more cautious as he grew older and yet never withdrew the novel from circulation. In 1890 and 1891 Wilde made many changes to the book to tone down and disguise the references to homosexuality but never went quite hid them altogether. Although many minute changes were made to passages in the book to obscure more open references to the intimacy of key male relationships much obvious attraction still remained in the book’s atmosphere. Wilde’s editor also made changes in 1891, which were in some cases much more certain than Wilde’s. His editor changed some passages to make it unquestionable that the mysterious outrages Dorian and his friends commit are against women’s reputations rather than men’s. However he does not change scenes where the romantic feelings of the men are quite obvious, at least to a modern reader. Was this because Wilde and his editor misjudged society, believing they would not spot the allusions or notice the tone of the book or were they trying to get as much subversion in under the radar as possible?

This is a formidable novel with a gothic atmosphere full of an air of seduction and scandal. It is one of the sexiest, sharpest classics I have ever read and looks set to live on my shelves for many years. Decadent, irreverent and dark I am very glad that Oscar Wilde held his nerve and published ‘The Portrait of Dorian Gray’.

Sure, I Know the Queen, September 2008

By Jodie

The Olympics are here and at the time of beginning this column Great Britain are blowing away all medal expectations, even before Team GB get to the velodrome . Nicole Cook was possibly the most excited woman ever after winning Britain’s first medal of the games and it was a real thrill to watch a British woman achieve a gold medal on the second day in Bejing. After that the medals just kept coming: double bronze in the equestrian events, gold and bronze in the pool, silver in time trials and silver in kayaking. I’m sure there will be many more medals in rowing, cycling and sailing before the end of the week and am enthralled by the talent of our athletes.

Unfortunately not everyone (read me) can be an Olympian and sometimes the television schedulers foolishly put other programs on instead of constantly playing Olympic highlights from slightly different angles. What can I do in these Olympic down times to continue to immerse myself in the greatness (dramatic pause for corniness) of Britain?

Annie from Reading, Writing and Ranting has provided me and other Olympic fans with a fun reading challenge based around the games. From 08 August 08 till 24 August 2008 ‘It's country against country in the battle to prove your reading patriotism.’. You sign up and read as many books by authors from your own country as possible and post about them along the way. For every book you read and post the title of in the comments section of the challenge post your team gets a silver medal. If you write a review of a book and post the link that earns your team a gold medal. Annie keeps team and individual tallies in the sidebars and holds out two tantalizing prizes from first and second place.

Competing against team USA who had six participants was always going to be impossible for a lone girl from the UK, especially as I didn’t have a book blog to post reviews in, but every medal counts as we know, Togo looked pretty happy with their bronze and Georgia’s win was legendary. Taking part sounded like it was going to be really enjoyable, especially as Annie is a great big Olympics enthusiast herself. So I collected my equipment, thought about my technique and in the end just abandoned myself to a mass quantity of lovely British books. Here is the story of my Olympic journey:

Day One

I didn’t see the challenge soon enough and had already started ‘Wicked’ by Gregory Maguire. I try to finish this as fast as I can but I almost don’t want Elphelba’s story to end. I resolve to buy ‘Son of a Witch’ soon. The Americans have one gold medal already and two silvers!

Day Five

The first medal goes on the board for team GB. It’s silver as my book blog still isn’t up and running but I’m just so excited to be up there on the scoreboard. The Americans have about a begillion gold medals by now, I think someone needs to get the marshall.

I earn the silver by reading ‘The Outcast’ which is a fantastic debut by Sadie Jones. Lewis Aldridge is a happy child whose world constricts when his father, Gerald, returns from the war. Lewis’ happiness is then destroyed when his mother drowns. Gerald, cold and unemotional, fights to keep his son’s grief away from him and in doing so damages their relationship in many ways. He becomes convinced that Lewis, unable to answer questions after his mother’s death and unwilling to accept his new stepmother is abnormal and dangerous. He imposes extreme restrictions on Lewis which makes him rebel and unwillingly become the dangerous version of himself that everybody else believes in. In a parallel storyline Kit Carmicheal, the younger daughter of Gerald’s boss, is also dealing with a controlling father who thinks little of her. These two main characters are easy to love until it hurts.

Day Seven

Second medal achieved. What Was Lost by Catherine O’Flynn from the West Midlands gets me to my second silver. Kate Meaney disappears on her way to sit an entrance exam for boarding school, twenty years later a little girl very like her is seen on CCTV cameras at GreenOaks shopping centre. Kurt, the security guard who sees her and Lisa, an employee in the centre were both involved with Kate as children and begin to search for the girl on the CCTV.

The first portion of the book is about Kate trying to navigate life without her dad and make him proud by being a detective. Catherine O’Flynn has captured the spark of an intelligent, lively child and some parts of this section, where Kate finds herself besieged by grown ups who want her to change are very affecting. O’Flynn has addressed many of the same issues that Ali Smith brings up in her novels, consumerism, the failure to live life fully but by using a child and likeable characters O’Flynn softens the instructional suggestions of the book, making it harder to disregard her ideas as bitter or unworkable. Even though I now know what happened to Kate I’d happily re-read this book.

Day Fifteen

A big reading gap is caused by a weekend at a music festival. It’s pretty hard to read when your tent is leaking.

I earn my third and final silver by reading Louise Welsh’s ‘The Bullet Trick a book that’s been on my to read list for a while along with her other two books. William Wilson a working magician, never at the top of his profession finds himself in a dangerous position between a retired police officer and evidence that links him to a crime. The book operates two narrative strands at the same time. In the first, initially predominate strand William becomes involved in hiding an incriminating photo then runs to a job in Berlin when a friend and his boyfriend are murdered. In the second strand which begins to take over in the later part of the book William returns to his home town of Glasgow, washed up after committing his own crime and set on trying to expose the criminals who sent him on the run. While the seedy atmosphere of the book’s several locations was created quite brilliantly and both characters and plot are compelling the ending is limp and a bit of a let down. The story focuses around magic and illusion, operating multiple plot strands I was expecting big, shocking revelations at the end of the book but these were missing.

Day Sixteen

It’s unlikely I’ll finish any more British books before the 24th but I’m now hooked on reading book after book by British authors. I disregard the hard lesson that Sebastian Faulk’s ‘Birdsong’ taught me (which was don’t read books by Sebastian Faulks) and start ‘Engleby’. An hour later I return it to the shelf and remind myself not to be swayed by Faulk’s promising sounding plots.

I dither a bit and then pull out ‘Sleep Pale Sister’ by Joanna Harris. This Victorian gothic style novel is what I thought I’d be reading throughout this entire challenge but I seem to have ignored this type of book in favor of those with more modern settings. I settle down for a Bank Holiday weekend spent in spooky company.

Day Seventeen

The final Olympic medals have been won, everyone looks very happy as they wander around the in the final parade. Britain are taking home a massive haul of shiny things and I’ve had fun reading some of the best of British authors.

Sure, I Know the Queen, August 2008

By Jodie


This will be the month, I decided, the month when I write a full analysis of the complexities of ‘Daniel Deronda’ for my column at Estella’s Revenge. In the back of my mind I was also thinking I would give up biscuits (again) and start going for walks during my lunch hour. Then I read one of Gideon Defoe’s tiny books about ham loving pirates, googled the author and spent an hour at work laughing (very quietly) at his Livejournal, while eating custard creams. I’d forgotten how funny British writers could be and how sly they were with their humour, waiting until you had a mouth full of crumbs to deliver their funniest lines. Deronda, who might be encouraged to tell a bawdy joke if someone spiked his drink, was never going to be able to compete.

Many random facts seem to make up Gideon Defoe’s identity, the best ones being that he wrote his first book ‘The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists’, to impress a girl and that he once served Tom Baker a pint. His pirate series is an example of the cleverly crafted British humour that comes off as completely effortless ad-lib. On the surface it seems like a book thrown together on the way to a pub but Defoe’s swift comic timing and eye for detail quickly become obvious. He knows the importance of choosing exactly the right word and putting it in the perfect place to bring off a joke. The Pirate Captain does not just have a beard but a ‘luxurious beard’ and all the pirates have silly, yet descriptive titles like ‘the pirate in green’ and ‘the pirate with an accordion’. These deadpan touches are the cause of the biggest laughs.

In ‘ The Pirates! In an Adventure with Whalers’, the second book in the series, the pirate’s boat is falling to pieces. Off they go to CutThroat Liz, the deadliest ship builder of all, where their captain’s boastfulness about treasure enables them to take a fabulous boat, ‘The Lovely Emma’, on credit. Unfortunately they can’t afford it and Liz is known to dismember customers who don’t pay promptly. The pirates must try to raise some money before the sand in Cut Throat Liz’s hourglass runs out or face decapitation, so they try very hard to do so in many, doomed ways.

Defoe’s books are full of the boyish, lolloping humour that the best British comic writing contains. There are friendly pirates who are inept at their chosen career, which really should be enough to impress any girl. Just in case it isn’t Defoe makes sure there are lots of jokes about gay goings on among the pirates, disguises, improbable plans and problems bought on by the Pirate Captain’s Pugwash like boasting. Defoe’s pirate boat sounds like it would be a fun place even when something is going horribly wrong, with activities like cloud spotting and albatross romancing on offer. The books also contain real facts about pirates in the footnotes; the kind of facts you might use at a party if someone else was being very dull. Did you know that fair weather cumulus clouds have a lifetime of just 5-40 minutes or that the protein created by barnacles is stronger than the epoxy resin used on the space shuttle? The inclusion of these footnotes shows Defoe’s genuine enthusiasm for his subject. Extra touches added, it seems just for fun, at the end of the books are unexpected and well thought out, for example ‘ The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists’ has comprehension questions such as:

‘Which do you think is most important to the Pirate Captain –ham or his luxurious beard? If you had to choose which one was more important to you, which one do you think you would pick?’

and ‘ The Pirates! In an Adventure with Whalers’ has an exhaustive list of fictitious ‘Pirates in Adventures with…’ titles, which you will want to read to the end. Defoe is certainly making strides in comic pirate fiction unlike any you will have seen before. It is possible I think this because I haven’t read any other examples of comic pirate fiction, if you have then please let me know about them.

Gideon Defoe’s writing style has a lot in common with Douglas Adam’s style in his ‘Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ series. Both write in a light tone that implies they just made up silly stories for a laugh. Both include carefully timed ludicrous details and characters that are not very heroic. Both writers have engaged seriously with how best to impress girls. In the first book Adam’s hero Arthur Dent wakes up to find that his house is in the way of an intergalactic road and it about to be bulldozed, along with the rest of Earth. That’s not the only surprise he gets that day: his best friend is an alien who has been trapped on Earth and the girl he once tried to chat up at a party has been flying around the universe. Dent unwillingly sets out on an adventure to discover the mythical planet of Magrathea, mostly the reader suspects to impress Trillian, the only other survivor of Earth’s destruction.

Adam’s series is full of cleverly ridiculous detail like aliens who use their poetry as torture and a planet building industry. Dent, the sulkiest hero of all time, has a line in deadpan dialogue

‘ ‘And what’s happened to the Earth?’
‘ Ah. It’s been demolished.’
‘ Has it?’ said Arthur levelly.
‘ Yes it just boiled away into space.’
‘ Look,’ said Arthur, ‘I’m a bit upset about that.’ ‘

He makes a fantastic straight man to the wonders of the universe. The books also have a sharp edge to them that make parts of them unsettling. Marvin, the depressed robot, is only a small hint at the darker aspects readers will find in this series. The main characters reminiscing about Earth also adds an element of sadness to the books, making these funny books multi-layered. The full ‘trilogy’, made up of five volumes, can be hard to find but is worth the effort.

Adam’s series may be disturbing at times but Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books can be quite horrific. I don’t think I will ever be able to read ‘Hogfather’ again. Many of the other books in the collection such as ‘Pyramids’, ‘Small Gods’ and ‘Witches Abroad’ are also satisfyingly scary, but not too scary. By including common fears, such as madness and loss of control, then creating some classically evil villains Pratchett can easily terrify. He also writes the funniest books in the UK. His cast of thousands of Ankh-Morporkians all throw their bodily humour, sharp wit and misunderstandings into the books, making a fast talking confusion that will have your wallet from you while you’re laughing. Gender confused dwarves, talking dogs and a very tiny Death of Rats, who communicates via squeaks like a demonic Sooty are all integral to Pratchett’s humour.
By setting familiar institutions like the post office and insurance companies in Ankh-Morpork Pratchett seems to be using an exercise my primary school teachers used often. Imagine that aliens came to Earth, aliens who don’t know what a spoon or a cup is, now explain to them how you make a cup of tea. Pratchett shows that what may seem sensible procedures, established beyond debate, are actually methods full of holes that can easily be identified and exploited by people who do not believe those in power are always in control. His satire is one of the main ingredients in his most recent books but he stops his scathing indications from being preachy by constructing his judgements out of harsh wit, such as lines like ‘Steal five dollars and you were a petty thief. Steal thousands of dollars and you were either a government or a hero.’ and filling his characters with laughable humanity.

He is one of the few writers who manages to put all the fun and meat of his adult books into a friendly format for younger audiences, producing slight but magnificent fantasy books like ‘The Carpet People’ and ‘Johnny and the Bomb’ that avoid being twee or charming. I would encourage adults looking for a good time to read the ‘The Bromeliad’ trilogy, about nomes forced to relocate and try to make it in the human world as well as Pratchett’s adult books. In fact read everything he’s ever written right now, especially ‘Good Omens’, his collaboration with Neil Gaiman about an Apocalypse. When I was younger and still felt I had time for re-reading I obsessively revisited ‘Good Omens’ and ‘Witches Abroad’ and now I have a whole bookshelf exclusively for Pratchett. He’s just that good.

The British sense of humour may seem strange at first. More swearing than you’re used to, oblique references to some knights that refuse to speak properly and lots of jocularity about sexual preferences. But if you turn away from British comic writing because it all seems a bit odd you’ll miss out on the pirate adventures, the space travel, the really big turtles…You may never know the true meaning of life. Grab a book and start having fun, Deronda can wait a while longer.

Sure, I Know the Queen, June/July 2008

By Jodie


A quintessential British summer is what we’re having in England right now. Forget all those tv images of strawberries at Wimbledon and the false expectations books like ‘Brideshead Revisited’ will have nurtured, here in the Midlands we’re all dressed in jumpers as we experience a typical British summer. Gallons of rain, or as one weather presenter put it rain which “ we need in summer to keep those reservoirs topped up”, cold temperatures and even a bit of sleet is what we’ve got. Meanwhile topical programs are running slots about how we don’t wear enough sun cream making us all feel as if we’re delusional and the rain is only in our minds.

Still with the rain keeping us indoors during the largest concentration of Bank Holidays that we get all year there is always an excuse to pick up a big British book. My favourite this month, The Welsh Girl’ by Peter Ho Davies is set in Wales and uses history to illuminate problems that are still confusing modern Britain. How do we form a national identity we can be proud of without shaping it around hatred of other countries? Is Britain a cohesive nation or still separate countries unfortunately conjoined and should we want to be one nation at all?

This book deserves to be analysed as it deals with enormous issues like shame and nationalism while still creating a potent story that is not distracted or troubled by these themes. Peter Ho Davies writing is gentle but avoids flounce or purple prose when describing the beautiful Welsh countryside. His main characters are described sharply with minimum physical description. Readers may come away from the book feeling they don’t know what Karsten or Esther look like but a strong picture still emerges as the author acquaints you with the essence of his main characters in short, bold lines.

‘The Welsh Girl’ is set apart from the glut of books about World War II by its setting which allows the author to avoid simplistic framing of ideas about the injustice of shaming soldiers and enemies who turn out to be friends. Peter Ho Davies emphasises the fact that many Welsh people did not feel that World War II was a British matter but rather an English problem that they had been unwillingly dragged into to make up numbers. He reminds us that although it suited the government to talk about Britain as a united nation during the war the country was still divided by national prejudices and genuine grievances. The Welsh people in Davies mining town do not view the English who arrive in their town as heroes because they are sappers involved in the war effort, they are still detested and hardly tolerated. When the main Welsh character, Esther has an English boyfriend she has to hide it as if she were dating a Nazi. In turn the English do not see the villagers as equals and prove this by contemptible actions early in the book.

The majority of the book focuses on Esther, a young Welsh barmaid desperate to escape the confines of her village and Karsten a member of the German army. Both want to escape their nationalities as they feel they do not fit somehow but at the same time they each feel a strong sense of identity. Karsten misses the countryside around his mother’s pension and feels a strong urge to join the hard core of Nazis who drill even when captured. Esther loves her father’s flock and feels the bonds of ‘cynefin’, a mystical instinct that keeps the ewes from straying, attaching her to the village. Still neither character naturally conforms to what their countrymen expect of them so Esther and Karsten are forced to make some pretence at other people’s idea of normality in an effort to avoid isolation but they can not change their true natures. Each reaches the same resolution, gaining a sense of empowering pride and forging new definitions of their nationality so they can survive and live peacefully but they do this in different ways. Much is sacrificed but much is gained.

Both characters are used to explore ideas about shame as well as nationalism but remain deftly described characters in their own right. The way that Nazi nationalism is compared to Welsh nationalism is a brave idea to express and another original facet of the novel. By specifically comparing the barbaric form German nationalism took with the extreme arguments of Welsh nationalism Davies takes the reader back to history class and shows that there were reasons why ordinary German citizens supported the Nazi party. By showing that circumstances, coupled with persuasive, historically logical argument and propaganda led to genocide in Germany he cautions against nationalistic argument. Then by explaining how circumstances, such a loss of mining jobs and logical arguments, for example Esther’s father’s speech about the English definition of the term ‘welshed’, created intense nationalistic hatred in Wales Davies instructs readers not to think of Nazi Germany as an isolated phenomena. Although he is specifically looking at nationalism in Wales he is counselling other countries to avoid supporting ideas that produce national rivalries.

Despite Davies tendency to produce stereotypical secondary characters such as Esther’s stern, sheep rearing father and Rhys, the sensitive and naïve boy next door, this book should receive praise as the first novel of a writer who will surely develop.

Sure I Know the Queen, May 2008

By Jodie

The great thing about literature is that it is capable of change. New forms of literary expression appear and our personal views about books can change with each reading. New authors are also capable of effecting change on old classics through the form of revisionist fiction, where a writer creates a different version of a text written by another author in order to express new opinions on the story. Many British classics have been revised in this way such as Jane Eyre in Wide Sargasso Sea, Robinson Crusoe in Foe and most recently Rebecca in Rebecca’s Tale.

The main point of much revisionist fiction is to give a voice to a character in the story who has been denied one. They may lack the ability to express their thoughts for many reasons; in Rebecca it is because of death, in Robinson Crusoe because of a physical inability to speak and in Jane Eyre because of madness. All these books contain characters who have been rendered speechless, for some reason, by the authors who have created them, and the revisionist companions to these books aim to give them a measure of justice by providing them with a forum in which to explain their side of the story. As this is revisionist fiction’s purpose, it often gives voice to the thoughts of minorities as they were traditionally denied the means to refute the opinions of the main narrator who is usually associated with the dominant portion of society in some way.

Jane Eyre boasts a truly independent female narrator but her happy ending comes from the death of another woman, Mr Rochester’s first wife ‘Bertha’ who he met in the West Indies. Jean Rhys’ Wide Sargasso Sea follows the assumption of many critics that while Charlotte Bronte championed female emancipation in Jane she found it easy to subjugate Bertha, once she realised that it was necessary. This idea is based on the feeling that Bertha is quietly marked as a woman of mixed race in Jane Eyre. It is judged possible that Charlotte Bronte understood the realities of her world well enough to see that a strong, sensible female narrator created by a female writer would be derided, so she included a mad, evil woma to divert their hatred from Jane. By making her West Indian and almost certainly mixed race could have been Charlotte Bronte’s way of separating her from the main body of women, who she wished to champion. Her male audience would be unable or at least unwilling to tie Bertha to Jane as white women were supposed to be a higher order to black women. This allowed her to make Jane self-reliant while also showing an agreeable reflection of men’s idea that females were weak, unbalenced and dangerous. No suggestion that Jane shared this madness of gender would be allowed as no white man would want to admit any kind of equality, even a negative one among women of different races. Charlotte Bronte would be able to create a successful case for the great abilities of her gender yet also give men someone to dislike and sneer at, appeasing them and diverting them from sniggering at Jane.

In this way we can see how Bertha’s madness appears not as a natural facet of her character, as is maintained in Jane Eyre, but as a lie imposed by the dominating force of her white author. This is the idea that Jean Rhys’ novel Wide Sargasso Sea translates into fiction as she removes Bertha’s madness and gives Rochester’s first wife a means of expression. In doing so, she analyses a fictional novel as if it were a historical source relating to real events. She thinks about who has created this source and looks at how their biases, social position or race may have given them motives for portraying events in a certain way. Based on an examination of the author’s probable biases Rhys determines it unlikely that the book shows Bertha as she really was and in doing so follows a school of literary criticism that has been around for years. Rhys and her fellow revisionists then take it one step further by setting out to rewrite events in a different way and shaping a novel around how they think things might have happened.

This is my favourite thing about revisionist works; their authors have become so involved another’s fictional world that they are invested in characters as if they were real people who could be treated unfairly by their own authors. To some people it may seem unbelievable presumptuous or ignorant to butt into another author’s creation but I see it as a sign of good literature when it stimulates debate and encourages rebuttal. This argumentative stirring is a sign that people are talking about books and fiction as seriously as they might about the state of the economy or politics. It is an encouraging indicator that the arts are still important to people.

Sure, I Know the Queen, November 2007

By Jodie

A selection of British literary highlights this month:

The winner of the Man Booker Prize, “a literary prize awarded each year for the best original full-length novel, written in the English language, by a citizen of either the Commonwealth Nations or the Republic of Ireland”* was awarded to Anne Enright for The Gathering. Anne is an Irish novelist who has previously written three novels and a non-fiction book as well as essays and short stories. Readers looking for more of the authors works should check out The Wig My Father Wore, What Are You Like? and The Pleasure of Eliza Lynch.

In other prize news when Doris Lessing won the Nobel Prize, her response was less than enthusiastic. “Oh Christ. I couldn’t care less,” is not the most politically correct acceptance speech but it is at least short. Lessing’s best known works are probably The Golden Notebook and The Grass is Singing.

A recent statistic says that 20% of British children leave primary school unable to read. This translates to 1 in 5 children being physically unable to follow the educational syllabus due to lack of key stage skills. This has prompted Channel Four to run a season called Lost For Words where children are encouraged to read through various methods, including a book club run by Richard and Judy. There will also be three programs focusing on Monteagle Primary School which implemented a new reading scheme using phonics with the goal of achieving 100% literacy. Read about the various projects featured in the series here (http://www.channel4.com/culture/microsites/L/lost_for_words/monteagle.html).

Susan Hill author of The Woman in Black and the soon to be released The Man in the Picture is running a free online creative writing course at her web-site (http://blog.susan-hill.com/blog/CREATIVEWRITINGCOURSE). She has recommended some wonderful classic authors to read, such as Graham Greene and Wilkie Collins, in the hope of improving writers' abilities. Her tips on writing are remarkably sensible, as well as business-like and differ greatly from the usual cast iron rules set out by manuals on novel writing. Hill is determined to explode some of the tedious myths about writing and to get those closet writers scribbling. First chapters are now being accepted (once you join the course) but all previous hints and exercises are still available.

On a personal note I am finding it increasingly difficult to find a comfortable place to read in public in Britain. I don’t have a break room at my office and generally reading in public in Britain is not a cozy experience. I feel as if readers are alternately being stared at or being shunned. Coffee shops are noisy, bus stations cold and libraries often too far away from workplaces to be of use. Does anyone have an ideal place in the British Isles for public consumption of books?

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Man_Booker_Prize

Sure, I Know the Queen, October 2007

By Jodie

What is it that encourages readers to enter the unknown world of a new novel? They look at the front cover, read the blurb, as well as the reviews, before comparing these illuminating snippets with the price. The reputation of the author and the hype surrounding the book both play a part, positively or negatively, as does the title. Any of these added extras may persuade a reader that a book will be a portable pleasure island or that they will end up befuddled in an unsettling foreign land. These are external features, the physical and reported packaging of a book; a novel still exists if these colourful suggestions are removed but without them what can readers use to help them decide which unfamiliar territory to explore?

The first line of a book is the most important for attracting the readers attention. Most flip to the front of a book to see if the first paragraph interests them when investigating new material. It is not surprising that the first sentence is now partially used as a marketing tool in modern fiction when there is such an over abundance of new books. Competition is tough. These firework first lines can capture the imagination but reading too many novels that feature this effect can be wearing as authors try to out do each other. New techniques may replace this one as it becomes too common for readers to find its variations intriguing but the opening paragraph will always remain essential in captivating the reader.

The impact of first lines would have more influence on book browsers if all the external clues were removed. No shiny cover designs, blurbed summaries or author names to guide the purse hand. Without these signals to categorise books (pink for chick-lit, black for horror) readers might be inclined to explore more, picking books they would never normally touch because of an attractive first sentence. Don’t worry I’m not suggesting that we storm every publisher’s marketing department and bring it to its knees. I enjoy the look of books that are as colourful outside as they are inside. However it is sometimes refreshing to strip books down to black marks on white pages and really focus on the quality of the writing.

The rest of this column is filled with first lines or openings written by British authors, posted without titles, cover designs or the names of their creators. Hopefully you’ll find some that you’d like to pursue, that distract you from your tasks until you eventually have your own copy to admire. To discover where each excerpt comes watch this space for a link on October 5th. Until then, it's your best guess! I hope you enjoy your explorations.

“ ‘ Bin Laden? A fucking charlatan.’
‘Be serious for a moment,’ Williams told him.”

“ If there is one thing you could say for my father, he never beat his wife.”

“ Everyone knows about Boadicea.”

“ She was sure here suspenders were showing.”

“The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden there came through the door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink flowering thorn.”

“ In 1704, the presumed heir to the Austen family fortune, John Austen, lay dying of consumption at the age of thirty-four.”

“I am making this staement as an act of wilful defiance of military authority, because I believe the war is being deliberately prolonged by those who have the power to end it.”

“According to my mother the first person I ever properly smiled at after I was born was not her but her closest friend at the time, Claire Tinker.”

“Far out in the charted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.”

“The primroses were over.”

Sure, I Know the Queen, September 2007

By Jodie

I am in terrible trouble. My days are filled with power ballads, sugar soaked teen movies and DVD collections of series that actively encourage self pity. Yes, another liaison has ended in wine and regretful melodrama, as prescribed by the bulk of American series ended with a musical montage of misery. I can now ‘relate’ to everything. I have not yet physically said that particularly disgusting phrase I see my situation in every neurotic small screen heroine. The other day I was able to empathise with four of the cast from Grey’s Anatomy in one episode and they are some competitive whiners. All around me people soliloquise about how people with love in their lives are better off or how someone’s baby has broken their heart. The deceitfulness, the blue depths and the blissful oblivion of love are chronicled in minute detail until I feel like asking the musicians if they’d prefer me to hang myself or slit my wrists.

If ever someone needed some sensible counsel it’s a woman who’s been tricked into romantic emotion. Some practical steps on how to regain your previously respectable, stable status are so much more useful than all the wallowing melodies and frowning actors, purporting to be as mired as you. Where else would you expect to find such reasoned advice but in a book, more specifically one of the great works of English literature, Jane Eyre. Jane is the woman I attempt to model my life on. That doesn’t always go well but I remind myself that Jane had to struggle in order to grow into the remarkable woman who pronounces the proto-feminist statement of choice, ‘Reader, I married him.’.

This is an extraordinary phrase in itself and Jane has much more to say about independence and respect. She advises women that they ‘…must advertise’ or actively help their lives to change; a financial reliance on the one you love makes you unequal ‘…the more he bought me, the more my cheek burned with a sense of annoyance and degradation’; my personal favourite, a mantra all women should abide by ‘Be too self-respecting to lavish the love of a whole heart, soul and strength where such a gift would be despised.’. Films and television want you to believe that an attitude like this shows fear of rejection or willing defeat but books like ‘Jane Eyre’ remind singletons that when someone’s ‘just not that into you’ you have a choice to walk away with your dignity.

Jane Eyre is a novel primarily about the development of character. The change from a feisty young girl who bites to a woman who calmly hides her feelings for her employer strokes some readers as pious and cold. However to make such negative judgements is to ignore the main focus of the novel which is the growth of Jane as a person. By the end of the novel she is not the same frustrated girl she was at the beginning. She is a strong woman who has made her own way by mastering her destructive side, becoming employed and later by happily coming into unexpected wealth. To will her back to the physical rebelliousness that, while making her a charming character, undid her when she was young is to wish her into an impotent, powerless state. Jane must gain the humility necessary to bear being a governess, a position of extremely low status, so that she can earn her own money and independence. What gives her character its core strength is the knowledge she retains from her early years of the difference between right and wrong. Although she becomes less demonstrative when dealing with wrongs as she matures Jane carries this strength within throughout her life, reminding herself not to compromise over what is right for her.

Some readers also feel that by the end of the novel Jane has become a woman subjugated by a love that makes no sense due to Mr. Rochester’s blindness, ruined state and the cold fact that he locked his first wife in his attic. This argument misses a key point of the novel, Jane’s search for freedom from dependence and so from the influence of others on her life. Dependants like Jane could not just take the advantages and ignore their benefactors advice. They were expected to be beholden to them in every aspect of their life and to show nothing but gratitude for this shackling. This fact is represented by the behaviour of Mrs. Reed and her children whenever Jane questions their horrible treatment of her; they are shocked and say she is wicked even when John Reed strikes her.

It can also be seen to a lesser extent in the behaviour of Mr. Rochester and Jane after she accepts the first marriage proposal. She is not sure about marrying him, especially so fast as she shows in numerous ways, most poignantly by saying ‘There was no putting off the day…’; that is her wedding day. However she loves Rochester and she feels grateful for all he has done so she allows herself to be cajoled down the aisle for fear of seeming ungrateful or loveless. He appears to feel that buying her things is the answer to any doubts she has- thereby consolidating his position as benefactor and apparently absolving himself of the responsibility to explain Thornfields night time terrors to his fiancé.

The decision Jane takes at the end of the novel, as shown by the affirmative ‘Reader, I married him.’, is her individual choice influenced by no one. It is certainly not dependent on whether the reader approves, although perhaps people would have disapproved of Rochester’s behaviour less at the time of publication than they do now. She has no reason to feel grateful to Rochester as he has lied to her and had planned to commit bigamy. She will never be financially dependent on anyone again. She will not be swayed by others opinions as she is ‘…independent as well as rich.’ She doesn’t ‘…care about being married…’ so is not persuaded into marriage by matters of taste or religious sensibility. She does not marry quickly or rashly for love but has thought out her feelings on love during the unpleasant time spent resisting the will of her cousin, St John Rivers. Jane makes her choice based on the rational knowledge that she loves Rochester. She is able to overcome, rather than overlook, more practical considerations such as the burnt Thornfield Hall and Rochester’s ruined physique because she is a capable, independent woman with five thousand pounds. This combination of character traits and practicalities allows her to deal with anything as her ‘…own mistress.’.

Jane is a fine role model for modern women. When so many are persuaded into marriage because of money, public opinion or just because that’s where a long term relationship must be heading to avoid pointlessness Jane Eyre demonstrates that love and marriage should be a choice rather than a convenience or default position. Her lessons of avoiding financial reliance are an antidote to WAG culture. Jane’s character growth shows the possibilities for a woman who depends on herself first and the importance self-reliance in developing a well-rounded character. When all women have to trust in is themselves it’s important that they are made up of everything they might need.

Sure, I Know the Queen, August 2007

By Jodie


Time and time again people tell us that books are not for us. They are for the worthy, the few, the elite. Just because you can read doesn’t mean you should, just because you went to university doesn’t mean you are capable of forming an opinion about a book. These comments are followed by the condescending, limited idea that we are never reading the right books, the paternal shake of the head and pitying glance. Leave it to the professionals in their dim lit, wood panelled rooms heavy with the cigar smoke of intellectualism to show you what is worth reading. However don’t let yourself stray from their opinions to actually read the book, just read the review--it’s probably the only way you’ll come to any understanding of a book.

This small minded minority (most book reviewers, academics and general readers are lovely and open minded, helping to guide others in their quest for knowledge) are the people who heap scorn on television presenters who include book segments in their shows. Oprah’s choices were too high brow, too concerned with status, featuring concepts far out of reach for her average viewer. In contrast Richard and Judy are accused of choosing main stream books, with low brow, domestic content. Other crimes include backing books and authors that are already well established, causing a detrimental effect on the development of the book market by diverting a large proportion of audiences to just a few books and not choosing the books themselves.

Really the big problem they have with the couple is that Richard and Judy are popularising reading, getting a diverse audience interested in well written fiction. While their critics may have previously bemoaned the fact that so many British people prefer football or television over books, they quickly condemn any pro-reading action that actively increases reading. Where would they be if everyone started reading, who would they sneer at? Still as the gate keepers of the secrets they can always assert that these newly initiated readers are not reading the right thing or are participating in the wrong way. In my mind Oprah’s case proves this view as she recommended American classics, which few could argue are bad for the reader and yet she was still reprimanded for picking the wrong kind of books for her audience. A TV book club is an easy target for these sort of generalised, unproveable vagaries, as everyone knows that television is a simple media for those with slow minds.

Now almost every reader has book snobberies. If someone recommended Victoria Beckham’s ghost-written book to me or Katie Price’s novels I might smile politely and discreetly look for the labotomy scars. I might give my own opinion of these books. However I am not about to stand up and bully the same person into recognising that my opinion is right and they are wrong, just as I wouldn’t over any other issue. People who peer at your stickered book cover on a train and then announce loudly that they wouldn’t be caught dead reading a Richard and Judy or an Oprah book are obviously looking for a fight. They think they’ve won before they begin and if those of you who like to make your own decisions (and get a bit of peace on public transport) don’t have arguments to hand your silence will convince them that they have converted you. Their smug faces everywhere would make it increasingly difficult to concentrate on your reading. So as these book interrupters; those who scorn contemporary literature, those who think that no one understands the symbolism of Jane Eyre’s red room as well as they do, bear down on you show your teeth and counter every argument they have. You won’t change their minds but hopefully they will go away, leaving you with your book and a gleeful mind.

Sure, I Know the Queen, July 2007

By Jodie

People might say that the English produce great children’s books because they are big kids who never quite grow up, especially the men. England has certainly created a large amount of books for children, with Enid Blyton being perhaps the most prolific writer for younger readers ever. But why is the literature so enduring? What continually draws new fans among children and adults to English children’s books in particular?

Part of the answer is that beneath the child-friendly devices of animal characters and magical creatures English children’s fiction contains subtle meanings and challenging ideas. The stories are adventurous enough to hold children’s attention and the suggestion of something more beneath the surface engages their intelligence. When an adult reads their child's books the same key aspects, although differently proportioned, are what they find interesting.

In a large amount of English children’s books these two aspects are provided by the use of the "questing" plot structure. The books follow a pattern where an event happens that forces the main characters to undertake a quest, journey or search for the good of all concerned. The aim of these journeys can range from missions of small, personal importance, such as Lassie’s struggle to return to her family in Yorkshire in Eric Knight’s Lassie Come Home to larger quests to save the world from evil. In Lassie Come Home the excitement comes from the epic journey to be faced and this is one of the main components of a quest based novel.

There is often also a more introspective search for personal development in narratives of individual importance, which adds depth to the story. These often focus on ideas of belonging or feeling different, that children can easily relate to. In Dick King Smith’s Dogfoot, a young pig is born with feet that seem strange to the other pigs. This strangeness leads him to an ambition to learn to swim and he is later called on to use his talents to save his family. This gives the book a personal quest, where the hero must become happy with himself and a more traditional quest in the journey to save his family.

Quests for individual satisfaction can often contain the intricate ideas that bring adults to children’s books. In The Borrowers, by Mary Norton, Arriety is different from other borrowers; she loves to write and has aspirations beyond her female role, as depicted by her mother Homily. Her personal quest for growth shows the reader that Norton’s tiny people represent more than an explanation for why things go missing. Borrowers are Norton’s vehicles for examining the relationship between classes, an important issue of her time. Arriety’s immediate family portray the differences in class with her father Pod as lower class, Homily as the aspirant who will always put her aitches in the wrong place and Arriety as the product of education in a working class family.

The Borrowers have their own class system, Homily’s relations live on the mantelpiece, but are ultimately an underclass to humans. In Arriety’s curiosity about humans and her interaction with "the boy" as she strives to secretly grow outside of traditional expectation she shows the troubled relationship between the emerging "educated class" and the gentry. After they form a friendship the boy harms Arriety and is then surprised and shocked that she has felt the hurt. She is angry and points out that of course borrowers feel pain. This exchange portrays the idea that the upper classes had long considered anyone lower than them a slightly different species. There are many documented occurrences of gentlemen denying that the poor needed entertainment or care for sick children because it was believed that they did not feel as the upper class did. Arriety’s anger comes from the fact that although a human has appeared friendly to her he has not really understood her at all. While class equality grew, genuine relationships between the classes were hard to create. The consequences of their friendship are disastrous for the whole tribe of borrowers. However it does lead Arriety and her family to their epic adventurous journey as they try to find somewhere to live and belong.

The most analysed example of the quest narrative in English children’s fiction is the Christian quest, as portrayed in C S Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. This model is perfect for children’s literature, as it is almost a return to the Arthurian tales about knights, always popular with kids. Children’s books that follow the Christian quest model can be quite muscular, including large scale battles, heroism and the best action parts from the Bible. It expands on the small scale quest, appearing to give it more significance due to the consequences for the world if the quest should fail.

It might seem that the Christian quest is an antiquated form found only in the classics and replaced by the magical quest. However this form of plot was and is still used by later English authors. In Colin Dann’s Farthing Wood series, the journey to the park is a search for an ideal place that may not exist and the Great White Stag takes on the same just god role as Aslan in Narnia. The same feeling of a search for an unattainable Eden is present in The Song of Pentecost, by W.J. Corbett. In the Redwall series, by Brian Jacques, an obvious Christian quest narrative is displayed in most of the books. Martin is the ultimate Christian warrior and on his death becomes a legendary and inspirational figure, spurring on more Christian warrior displays. Jacques's books are full of battles to entertain but also contain messages about the different aspects of Christianity.

The magical quest features much of the same material as the Christian version, with battles between good and evil. The magical narrative simply has different heroes, villains and symbolism. It is almost a form of revisionist fiction. In the magical quest narrative the shifting, disturbing element of darkness that is present in much English children’s fiction, such as the books of Roald Dahl, is brought to the forefront. This dark aspect comes from the intense mixture of superstition, folklore and myth that forms the basis of British story telling origins.

This element works well in children’s fiction as it allows for the possibility of a particularly gruesome death for the villains. It also makes the conclusion of a story uncertain. Like adults, children don’t always want to open a book knowing it will end happily. As children grow into young adults earlier and earlier, they discard books that talk down to them or try to convince them of what their age group should like. A complex bit of tragedy or satisfying literary violence demonstrates than an author has acknowledged their need for respect.

Anyone who thinks the dark side of British children’s fiction is epitomised in the later Harry Potter books is quite definitely wrong. Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series is eerie but ultimately too metaphysical to explain terror to its readers. In the Deptford Mice trilogy and the Tales from the Wyrd Museum, Robin Jarvis creates deeply disturbing magical missions for his characters. His combination of depraved evil forces, dark situations and an absolute disregard for the well being of his main characters make him the master of dark, magical children’s literature. Adventure is too tame a word for the substance of his plots and there is plenty for adults in his books, even before they start on the symbolism.

English children’s fiction continues to grow, and there are many categories that I don’t have space to mention here. With so much variety exhibited in the use of one plot structure and so many excellent authors available, it’s no wonder that English children’s authors continue to gain legions of devoted fans from all age groups.

Sure, I Know the Queen, June 2007

By Jodie

This month I decided to share what some major mainstream women's magazines in Britain suggest we all read this summer.

Heat:

Description: A complete trash fest. It’s a magazine that specializes in pictures of celebrities looking rough with a bad reputation for its intrusive paparazzi.

Books: Heat has a surprisingly large book selection for such a trashy mag, but then again it is an entertainment publication and so it allots the same amount of space to books as it does to films, music and DVDs.

The two books taking up the main space are How to Look Good Naked, by Gok Wan following the television show of the same name and Young Wive’s Tales, by Adele Parks. The description of the second makes it sound like a repellent vision of the destruction of sisterhood to me, but it gets a positive review in another magazine so it must have some good qualities. I don’t know if I would read it based on these reviews but if someone who had read it said they enjoyed it I might add it to my beach bag.

Then Heat has a list of their readers' top ten books. This features Simply the Gest, David Gest’s autobiography, at number four, so you can guess this list is pretty frothy yet strangely attractive. Three books (Young Wives Tales , Lucy in the Sky and The Memory Keeper’s Daughter) turn up in the selection of other magazines, illustrating the sad fact that women's magazines use their power to back the blockbuster to the top rather than help lesser known books climb the ladder to commercial success.

My Pick: Love Life, by Ray Kluun. Just because I would be intrigued to see how a story of "how a man copes with his wife’s cancer by sleeping with other women" can be emotional and beautiful instead of repugnant.

Elle:

Description: We all know Elle. Shopping luxury for the seriously wealthy with the added substance of interviews with designers and slight, fascinating features.

Books: Elle also suggests that Lucy in the Sky is a good read, but the way that they spin the description shows the different target audiences of this magazine and Heat. Elle relates the most edgy plot element of the book (that as Lucy gets on a plane for a 24 hour flight she receives a text telling her that someone has slept with her boyfriend four times this month) while Heat placidly describes it as "a fun slice of chick-lit".

Other books in Elle are You Don’t Love Me Yet, by Jonathan Lethem about a customer service worker falling in love with a complaining caller, and Joshua Spassky, by Gwendoline Riley in which two people go away to see if they have a real connection. Contemporary Footwear Design, by Rebecca Proctor, is full of pictures of shoes. Finally there’s a misery memoir called Abandoned, by Anya Peters which looks and sounds pretty standard. The book was generated by Peters's blog which Elle terms "compelling," although, judging by the excerpt, this does not translate into an intriguing book. I’d just like to make a little plug for a blog that I think is compelling enough to become a bookm which is 63 Days. This blog follows a woman who, as a teenager, was sent to an 80s "boot camp" for troubled children and the writing is masterful.

My Pick: Got to be the shoe book. I don’t even need shoes to have an intellectual backing to drool over them but when a handy theory about shoes being works of art or architecture is provided, that makes the book even more of a treat.

Glamour:

Description: Up market, classy but also high street friendly. Into pop and girls who look good. Glamour knows how to have fun, and now, since it’s always come in a small enough edition to fit in a fashionably boho handbag, I think it is my favourite magazine.

Books: Glamour has a book club now. It’s choice this month is The Caller, by Alex Barclay, which I have to admit sounded pretty creepy when I read about it in my book magazine; it freaked the book club members out. The benefit of having a book club in the magazine is that you get real opinions from several people -- not just those of the magazine’s book editor.

Although I love Glamour it does play it safe with its book section, predicting that Joanne Harris’s Lollipop Shoes and A Thousand Splendid Suns, by Khaled Hosseini, the author of The Kite Runner, will be big hits. Who woulda thunk it? However, A Thousand Splendid Suns did get a dressing down in last week's Telegraph books section and the piece about Joanne Harris’ work in the Times was, although long, mostly indifferent with little to say except praise for her descriptions of food. Of course I strongly disagree with this as Joanne Harris is an amazing, if solidly established writer.

There are two other books making up the main content, Young Wives Tales (a la Heat), which when advertised here, sounds sappy rather than bitchy. The other is Riveria Cocktail a coffee table book of "off duty" celebrities taken by Edward Quinn.

There is a little something extra in the form of short blurbs about three books from brave women in the Middle East. All three sound fascinating. In The Prisoner of Tehran, a woman is
"sentenced to death for complaining that her math lesson had been replaced by Koran study." Kabul Beauty School is a book everyone has been talking about for some months now, the story of a woman who gives women hope and independence by opening Kabul’s first ever beauty school. The last one, In the Name of Honour, contains stories of rape and if written by a western author could have ended up edited and packaged as a misery memoir. It is instead the uplifting tale of a woman taking the positive step of speaking out against her attackers and winning.

My Pick: I’m torn between The Prisoner of Tehran, by Marina Nemat, and Kabul Beauty School, by Deborah Rodriguez. I’m drawn to quirky titles, so I think I pick the second book.

Marie Claire:

Description: Packaged as the women’s magazine with issues, Marie Claire is perhaps the most proactive of the mainstream magazines. The clothes are nice but more often at the pricey end of the market. However, it has great make-up tips, Spree vs Steal, spotlights on the key pieces for the month and great gift ideas at Christmas.

Books: Grrr urgh -- another magazine making safe choices. Again we get A Thousand Splendid Suns and The Lollipop Shoes as well as When We Were Bad, which, with its fashionable ethnicity, is bound to do well. You Don’t Love Me Yet is in there, and I’m beginning to wonder if this one was supposed to be big but just hasn’t quite made the right kind of splash. They’ve even gone against The Post-Birthday World, by the previously loved up Lionel Shriver, and that is certainly the safest bet ever after the flop of her tennis centred second novel. The Times was down on it as well and also highlights the strained cockney patter. Bad British accents have become unforgivable to the British audience so it is unlikely this book will do very well.

On the positive side, Marie Claire is running a section about the best books ever, highlighting a classic choice every month. Of course this is another example of them avoiding any risk as the staying power of classics is already proven but it should help encourage new people to read classic literature. This month they’re looking at I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou.

My Pick: Oh let’s go with The Lollipop Shoes. We all know it’s going to do well and I’m longing to buy it.

On a final note, Philippa Gregory is doing a big ad campaign this month. The Boleyn Inheritance had a full-page ad in three of the magazines I looked at. Please sir, could we have some help for the lesser-known authors?

Sure, I Know the Queen, May 2007

By Jodie

Sure, I can get a little novel obsessed. It’s something that can happen to anyone with a reading habit. The serious literati encourage readers to believe that novels offer a highly refined version of truth that replaces dry facts with deeper knowledge, analysis with insight and narrative with imagery. They would have you believe that the end result of a novel is an extremely polished opal filled with shimmering, swimming words known as "the truth", something more intense and brilliant than the reality of non-fiction. It’s easy to get addicted to this potent substance and the glamour of its packaging.

The Non-Fiction Five Challenge, hosted by Joy at Thoughts of Joy, begins in May and will encourage readers to cut their fiction with a measure of fact. If, like me, you don’t watch the news regularly you’ve probably learned most of what you know about Afghanistan from novels like The Kite Runner, Shantaram and The Far Pavillions. It’s debatable how much truthful analysis is available in non-fiction publications about this and other current political events but reading the factual along with the fictitious can only be helpful when you consider how it expands your field of reference and better enables you to make your own deductions.

My own choices for this challenge all relate to Britain in some way. Every British citizen needs to be well informed of the empire they’re descended from in order to give themselves greater perspective on the attitudes others hold towards us. Too many arguments today are based on a simplified version of British history where, depending on your ill-informed point of view, we either monstrously enslaved everyone or heroically conquered everyone. Of course when people refer to Britain in this way they usually mean England and are including Wales, Scotland and Ireland in the column labelled "down trodden" that they’ve painstakingly drawn up in their exercise book. When I went to university in Wales I had no knowledge of Welsh history and so was ill-equipped to debate England’s oppressor status with my passionate housemates. I’m ashamed to say I only read one Welsh book while studying at Swansea and it wasn’t even Dylan Thomas. I still know nothing beyond their assertions and what I’ve managed to grasp on my own (if you want a real example of the English language as a colonising force I suggest you look at Wales before you start getting indignant about books that are donated to African programs). So I hope that Welsh Wars of Independence by David Moore will lay the foundations for future learning about Wales.

What could be more British than Stonehenge? Perhaps Rupert Everett, we shall see. Two biographies Stonehenge:Biography of a Landscape by T.C. Darvill and Red Carpets and Other Banana Skins line up to fight it out. Red Carpets was published just before Everett started turning up on tv wearing baggy ‘artists’ jumpers (that is being kind) so Stonehenge still has the weight advantage (that is not) but Rupert Everett is such a typically English high class, low talking actor and he has all the dirt to dish in his deliciously catty way. In these early stages I feel it is unlikely to be a tie.

Some of the best history can reveal shocking secrets. The Perfect King: The Life of Edward III, Father of the English Nation by Ian Mortimer offers to fling the monarchy’s secrets into the street. Edward II previously assumed to have been murdered by the graphic method of a red hot poker being inserted up his arse may not have been killed in this fashion. By now you may have grown tired of books that effortlessly dispel folkloric versions of history. I had begun to wonder if there was anyone really evil or weak left in history apart from Hitler. Mortimer’s book promises much more than that, making the contention that not only the method of assassination may be inaccurate but also the idea that a Edward died prematurely. The shocking revelation that his beloved son may have known and willingly conspired in this fiction is rigorously debated. More intriguing than The Da Vinci Code or Diana.

Finally I picked The Rise and Fall of the Arab Empire by Rodney Collomb because it’s such a topical issue. To be able to say anything about the current Muslim society it is necessary to learn about their history, especially if you plan to say something out loud, in public, around decent people. Until you understand the ancient foundations of present cultures you can fully appreciate where arguments and beliefs come from which means you are in no place to pass comment, let alone judgement. Also the outline of Collomb’s book seems weighted towards the negative view of an Arab society that descended into a dark age as the West grew and expanded. I’d like to see if his arguments hold up, especially as historians have been explaining for some time why the West’s own Dark Ages weren’t so gloomy after all.

Would you believe that this is just a fraction of the British non-fiction I have gracing my bedroom floor? I even received a new package of biographies, mostly relating to British personalities this week. I couldn’t resist the stories of some spirited British females such as Jane Austen, Gertrude Bell and Emma Hamilton, who is bizarrely being billed as pre-Jordan. I’m excited about the first mammoth volume of Micheal Palin’s trilogy of autobiographies. Books about medieval times, mountain climbing, mammals and pirates cluster in piles.

If only non-fiction books didn’t demand so much attention; bypass a sentence in a novel and you are poorer, skip one in a history book and you are lost. Evaluation is made up of all the tiny facts collected along the way and the analytical arguments gather strength from each other, miss or misunderstand one and you have to march back to the beginning if you want to fully comprehend. Challenges like The Non-Fiction Five are just what the complacent mind, thick with fictitious love needs to spur it on to create new neural pathways. The factual is like the gym, getting to it is the hardest part.

Sure, I Know the Queen, April 2007

By Jodie

There are many internal mysteries in the stories of Sherlock Holmes that Arthur Conan Doyle would find himself called upon if he was writing now. If Professor Moriaty is such a strong and clever foe why has he never devised a crime worthy enough for Watson to chronicle it? How much heroin does Holmes take throughout the day to prevent the shakes from disturbing his masterful violin playing? Writers analysing these stories are quick to point out Doyle’s unimaginative use of language, the fact that the reader has no chance of solving the mysteries and the limited scope of Holmes’ detective work. All these elements should add up to a bunch of dire little tales that are no more than a curiosity shouldn’t they? Why are they still avidly read today? Why is Sherlock Holmes one of the most beloved fictional British detectives?

The first clue is in the unusual nature of many of the crimes. A goose is used to stow jewels in, an advert placed for ginger haired men conceals fraudulent practise, people are assaulted and murdered in locked rooms. Doyle’s criminals almost surpass his hero in the ingenious premises of their schemes. The sheer curiosity that is to be found at the beginning of many of the stories intrigues the reader and this is coupled with the amazing deductions Holmes makes, that lead to the revelation of the nature of the crime and how it was achieved. When this is realised it seems that Doyle’s stories follow one of the most important rules of writing an entertaining short story, to make the beginning, the middle and then end equally strong and always compelling.

Then there is the element of danger and the gothic that is incorporated into the writing. People who are unfamiliar with the stories may have an impression that Doyle provided the seed for the cosy mystery with his middle class crimes tackled by a detective who wears tweed and smokes a pipe. This is wildly untrue as many Sherlock Holmes stories contain strong depictions of human evil and in some cases there is almost an element of the ghost story. Holmes and Watson investigate a creepy houses at night on several occassions, many of the crimes involve a twisted method of achieving their ends and more than a few criminals receive grisly final punishments. The fact that the reader has almost no idea what is going on until Holmes reveals his deductions make the crimes obscure while they are occuring and so heightens the suspense and dread that the reader feels. Perfectly respectable people reveal themselves to be full of rage and violence and Holmes himself is far from a sedate arm chair detective, even if he does do his best thinking there. He is a heroin addict but also an active analyst who throws himself into action, shadowing people, disguising himself and visiting dark, seedy places.

Holmes must of course be credited with being the main reason why readers continue to investigate his world. Whether his creator was unable to flesh him out, due to time pressures, or unwilling to work hard on the background of a character written for money the unclear past works to his characters advantage. The lack of detail about the man fascinates readers who continue reading partly in the hope of discovering more and partly because such an enigmatic detective adds irresistible mystery to the tone of each story. Sometimes it is just as intriguing to be mystified as it is to have the flabbergasting details exposed. In one of the best stories, ‘A Scandal in Bohemia’, Holmes is given an equally unknowable female counterpart. The lady gets away from him and little is ever explained yet the conclusion doesn’t feel unsatisfying because the indiscernible is thrilling.

Sherlock Holmes lives in a London that is instantly recognisable to any British reader and he is a distinguishable part of that London. Like the characters of Dickens Holmes and Watson are instrumental in shaping both our perception of Britain at this time and in informing our fictional British landscape. Arthur Conan Doyle’s writing reaffirms our notions of how a fictional, historical Britain should be represented and as Shakespeare contributed uncountable stock phrases to the English language through his writing so Doyle helps to create images and tones that have become inseparable from British fiction. If you have never visited London but you imagine it filled with fog and ornate street lamps these images can probably be traced back to descriptions from established British writers like Arthur Conan Doyle. This provides a final reason why his stories of a logical detective and his blustering side kick remain so well read. In his work Doyle has created a vision of London that makes such an impression that everyone recognises it. This distinguishable landscape makes all readers feel as if they know Holmes’ world. It is comforting to walk into a familiar world where everything is signposted clearly in an understandable language and this makes for an enjoyable reading experience.
For British readers these linguistic markers show how closely related to their home and their culture these stories are and make it easy to accept and welcome Holmes as one of our own.