Lovely Lists: Bath's Own Children's Authors and Illustrators

Here's the start of an interesting list: children's authors and illustrators who have some association with Bath ... if you can think of anyone else, just let me know or add to the Comments box.

Allan Ahlberg who, together with his illustrator wife Janet created Peepo!, Burglar Bill, Each Peach Pear Plum and many other classic children's books, lives in Bath. Born in Croydon, Allan was brought up in Oldbury in the West Midlands.  He writes from a shed in the back garden of his town-house. Janet Ahlberg died in 1994, sadly aged only 50.

David Almond was appointed Professor of Creative Writing at Bath Spa University in 2012. He's a prize winning children's author, perhaps best known for Skellig and My Name is Mina (which we read in January 2012).

Grahame Baker-Smith won the 2011 CILIP Kate Greenaway Medal for his illustrations for FArTHER.  Born and raised in Oxfordshire, he lives in Camden in Bath.

Elen Caldecott graduated with an MA in Writing for Young People from Bath Spa University and now lives in Bristol. She was shortlisted for the 2009 Waterstones' Children's Book of the Year. Operation Eiffel Tower was shortlisted for the Red House Children’s Book Award 2013.

Jim Carrington, a Carnegie nominee for Inside My Head, was born in Norwich and studied at Bath Spa University.

Under her maiden name Sheila Chapman, Sheila Jeffries wrote four children's novels in the popular 'pony story' genre. Sheila studied at Bath Academy of Art and began to write full time in 1982 under the name Sheila Haigh.

Tracey Corderoy moved to Bath from South Wales when she was eighteen to study at Bath College of Higher Education. Her books include the Willow Valley series and Whizz Pop, Granny STOP!

Nicola Davies / Stevie Morgan trained as a zoologist and worked for the BBC before becoming an author. What’s Eating You was shortlisted for the American Association for the Advancement of Science children’s book prize for 2008. Nicola is a senior lecturer in creative writing at Bath Spa University. 

Kim Donovan studied for her MA in Writing for Young People at Bath Spa University. She is the author of St Viper’s School for Super Villains.

Sam Gayton moved to Bath aged 26 to take the MA in Writing for Young People at Bath Spa University.  He worked as a teaching assistant at Widcombe Junior School and launched his debut novel, The Snow Merchant, at the Bath Children's Literature Festival in 2011.

Che Golden spent her childhood between County Cork and London.  She is a graduate of Bath Spa University's creative writing course.  Her first novel was The Feral Child, in 2012.

Julia Green, author of Blue Moon and Baby Blue, is a senior lecturer at Bath Spa University.

Sarah Hammond studied for her MA in Writing for Young People at Bath Spa University. The Night Sky in my Head was shortlisted for the Calderdale Children’s Book of the Year Award 2013 and the Leeds Book Award 2013.

Candida Harper (C J Harper) is another graduate from Bath Spa University's MA in Writing for Young People.  Her first book is The Disappeared, published in January 2013.

 

Marie-Louise Jensen went to school in Bradford-on-Avon.  She studied for her MA in Writing for Young People at Bath Spa University.  She was shortlisted for the 2009 Waterstones' Children's Book of the Year.

Dick King-Smith (1922-2011) taught at Farmborough primary school near Bath, and spent the latter years of his life in Queen Charlton, a village just outside Keynsham, between Bath and Bristol.  He is best known for The Sheep Pig, on which the movie Babe was based.  

Gill Lewis has a Masters degree in Writing for Young People from Bath Spa University and won the 2009 course prize for most promising writer.  Her first children's book was Skyhawk.  She lives in Somerset.

Sue Mongredien grew up in Nottingham but lives in Bath.  She has published over 100 children's books, including the popular Oliver Moon series.

Sally Nicholls' first children’s novel, Ways to Live Forever, was written while she was a student at Bath Spa University: it won the Waterstones' Children's Book of the Year Award in 2008.

Maudie Smith is another graduate of Bath Spa University. Her debut novel for children was Opal Moonbaby.

Geoffrey Trease (Bows against the Barons, Cue for Treason etc) spent his last years in Bath, to which he and his wife had moved from Malvern shortly before her death. He died in Bath in 1998.

Stephen Voake (The Dreamwalker's Child) is a prize-winning author and former head-teacher who is now Senior Lecturer in Writing for Young People at Bath Spa University.  He comes from Midsomer Norton and lives near Bath.

Rachel Ward lives in Bath.  Her first novel, Numbers, (published 2009), was shortlisted for Waterstones' Children's Book Prize and longlisted for the Carnegie. 

Jacqueline Wilson was born Jacqueline Aitken in Bath, where her father was working as a civil servant.  She first found fame with the Tracey Beaker books, going on to become Children's Laureate 2005-2007.

Bath-based Moira Young won the Costa Children's Book of the Year prize 2011 for Blood Red Road.  A native of Canada, she came to the UK in 1983/4 and now lives in Bath.

We have a winner! Landmarks & Legends Writing Competition

Our book group has a prize-winning children's author of its very own!  Congratulations to Hannah Sackett on becoming the first winner of the Landmarks & Legends creative writing competition organised by Salisbury Cathedral in conjunction with Orion Children's Publishing, in collaboration with children's author Cornelia Funke, of Inkheart fame.

Landmarks and Legends writing competition was launched by Cornelia Funke in October 2012 for the UK launch of her book Ghost Knight, which was inspired by Salisbury Cathedral and the true story of the first person to be buried there. Stories submitted to the competition had to be set in a real, historical location and include some real characters from history or be based on actual events and local legends.  They also had to be suitable for children between ten and fifteen years old.

You can read Hannah's winning story, the Bath-related Legend of Bladud (as told by one of his pigs) here. Salisbury Cathedral Story Competition Winner

There's more information about the competition, the winner and the runners-up here. Salisbury Cathedral Press Release about Landmarks & Legends competition

January 2013: Elizabeth Enright's "The Saturdays" and our February book

Remember when the weekends seemed endless, when children had time for adventures and when they were allowed to take a few risks?  Elizabeth Enright's The Saturdays (1941) captures those seemingly lost-forever golden days just perfectly.  This is the first in her series of four books about the Melendy children, who live with their widowed father in a shabby brownstone on the Lower East Side of New York City, in the days when ordinary families could occupy an entire house in Manhattan and when individual children could roam the streets of the Big Apple, relying on nice policemen to take them home on horseback if they got lost.

Loved by generations of American children, the multiple-prize-winning Enright and her charming stories are surprisingly and undeservedly less well known on this side of the Atlantic than they should be.  Her format is familiar but always popular: the somewhat chaotic and slightly impoverished but affectionate household, with a single (often professionally absent) parent; a beloved housekeeper who valiantly tries to keep everyone in check; a scruffy mongrel dog; a group of children who each have their own talents - in this case the musical one, the dramatic one, the scatty one and the Youngest One - while Time hangs heavy and there are opportunities for good-natured mischief, scrapes and adventure.

The four Melendy children pool their weekly pocket money so that each child in turn can afford a Big Adventure.  And these are very nice children, whose adventures all become learning experiences, most of which would make any parent proud: a trip to an art gallery, an outing to the opera, a visit to the hairdresser's, an afternoon at the circus and boating on the lake in Central Park.  There's no wasting of talent here.  

But there's a darker undercurrent too.  The children hear about the seamier side of life from people they encounter along the way: one was kidnapped by gypsies, while another was driven out of her abusive home with her brother and lived on the city's streets.  The Melendys nearly die from carbon monoxide poisoning one night, and on another occasion they accidentally set fire to their own home.

The joy of reading Enright is in the neatness of her structure and the simple purity and clarity of her writing.  Her children are wonderfully characterised, while humour prevents them from descending into cuteness. She also imparts a genuine sense of time and location, weaving real people, places and events through the narrative, which makes the stories both believable and effective. She writes about New York City in 1941 with the affectionate eye of a local, but a strong awareness of the plight of children thousands of miles away in London suffering from nightly bombing raids.  

Elizabeth Enright was born in 1909 to a political cartoonist father and a mother who was a designer and illustrator.  Her maternal uncle was the famous architect Frank Lloyd Wright.  Enright followed in her (by then divorced) parents' footsteps, going to  art college and herself becoming an illustrator before turning to writing and then to literary criticism.  She won the Newbery Prize for children's writing in 1939 (the equivalent of the UK's Carnegie Medal), the first of many such awards.  She was also a successful writer of short stories for adults.  There is some confusion surrounding her early death in 1968 aged just 58: some internet sources claim she committed suicide, while her New York Times obituary simply states that she died at home following a short illness.  

What a wonderful discovery this book was for us all.

Next month we are reading The Magicians of Caprona by Diana Wynne-Jones (1980), together with a posthumous reminiscence about Diana by her son, Colin Burrow, which was broadcast on Radio 4 in 2011.

December 2012: Lucy Boston's "Children of Green Knowe" and our January book

Off to the Cambridgeshire Fens this month with Lucy M Boston's classic story The Children of Green Knowe (1954), the atmospheric first book in her series of six.

The Children of Green Knowe is simply gorgeous: a sophisticated, eerie book that demands careful reading.  The tale of young Toseland (Tolly), sent by train from prep school to spend a solitary, snowy and haunted Christmas with his grandmother in the family's ancestral home, arriving in a boat rowed across flooded meadows by an old retainer, is an appealing mix of one central story embellished with individual tales about the plague-dead (yet still present) children of the house and their animals - tales told by the old lady during firelit evenings before Tolly is packed off to bed to dream in his shadowy attic room.  It's never quite clear where real life ends and magic begins.  

Lucy Maria Boston (1892-1990) was born into a middle-class family in Southport, Lancashire in the north of England, the fifth of six children.  Her father, who died when Lucy was six, was fervently religious and their home was crammed with items he had brought back from a visit to the Holy Land - painted friezes, lanterns, Moorish wooden arcades and other middle-eastern objects.  It is this sense of a house full of fascinatingly magical things that she translates so well into the English surroundings of Green Knowe.

After going up to Oxford, Lucy left to nurse in France during WW1.  She married in 1917, but the marriage ended in the 1930s and she worked as an artist in Europe for a few years.  When her only son Peter went up to Cambridge University she followed him and, finding a run-down Manor House at Hemingford Grey near Huntington, she bought it, moved in and spent the rest of her life there; renovating the house and gardens, writing, making patchwork quilts, and enjoying welcoming curious passers-by to show them around.  One of our group had been lucky enough to meet Lucy Boston themselves as a child.

Like one of her famous patchwork quilts, Lucy Boston weaves together sumptuous imagery with eerily evocative writing.  Tolly goes out on a snowy morning: "In front of him, the world was an unbroken dazzling cloud of crystal stars, except for the moat, which looked like a strip of night that had somehow sinned, and had no stars in it."

There is Anglo-Saxon mythology, biblical imagery and Tudor history - and through it all we hear the haunting sounds of the flute played by a long-dead boy, and the ghostly hoofbeats of the thoroughbred horse that used to occupy the magnificent stables.  There's terror too, when one of the ancient yew trees begins to come to life ...

Lucy's son Peter's beautiful black and white line illustrations add to the pleasure of the book: incorporating the real-life objects from his mother's home they possess a slightly frantic yet eerie quality themselves: their close study is very rewarding.  The front cover shows Tolly arriving by boat, with the haunting effect of the lantern shining on the flood waters and lighting up the ancient trees.

This is a beautiful, minimalist book which continues to reward with re-reading.

Next month we're back off to the United States when we'll be reading The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright (1941), the first in the series of books about the Melendy children.

November 2012: Anthony Buckeridge's "Jennings' Little Hut" and our December book

Fossilised fish-hooks!  We went back to 1951 this month to spend some time at Linbury Court Preparatory School with JCT Jennings, his friend CEJ Darbishire and 77 other well-brought-up but excitable small boys, and to laugh at their adventures in Anthony Buckeridge's Jennings' Little Hut: building dens, exercising a goldfish in the school pool, smashing the Archbeako's cucumber frame with a wayward cricket ball, and generally getting into scrapes.


Born in 1912, Anthony Buckeridge was a schoolmaster in a prep school in Sussex in the 1940s when he began to invent tales about a boy called Jennings.  Like Joan Aiken, whose stories were first heard on Children's Hour in 1941, Buckeridge submitted a  script to the BBC about the well-meaning but hare-brained little boy, and between 1948 and 1962 Jennings and his perpetually ten-year old schoolfriends were Children's Hour favourites.  The first book, Jennings Goes to School, appeared in 1950 and a further 24 titles followed over the next 45 years.  Buckeridge died in 2004, aged 92.

It seemed we either loved Jennings or were  baffled by him.  Those of us who had fallen in love with Linbury Court as children were not disappointed by returning.  Those for whom it was their first visit found the book harder to enjoy, and somewhat  anachronistic.  The first chapter, devoted to the technicalities of hut building, proved difficult to overcome; the complexities of cricket - so vital to all boys' school stories - was also something of a turn-off.  But everyone loved the unique language: particularly the boys' specialised vocabulary of complaint and exclamation - everything being 'ozard', 'wizard' or 'supersonic',  accompanied by imprecations to 'ankle round', 'hoof off' or 'fox round', while the teachers were either 'heading this way at forty knots' or 'taking off on a roof level attack'.
We explored the differences between the girls' school stories of Enid Blyton's Malory Towers with its bullying spitefulness, and Buckeridge's Linbury Court with its focus on the boys' comic high spirits and well-intentioned schemes, and where everyone seemed to be liked by their peers - even 'clodpoll' Darbishire, the 'newt-brained shrimp wit' who is rubbish at games and tends to quote his father - a vicar - and Tennyson rather too often.  We compared Jennings with that other 1950's schoolboy of repute, the satirical Nigel Molesworth of St Custard's, the male equivalent of Geoffrey Willans' other school series, St Trinian's.  Molesworth seems just that bit more street-wise and appealing, with his 'history started badly and hav been geting steadily worse' attitude and his sketchy approach to 'speling', while St Custard's is more anarchically terrifying than gentle Linbury Court, ruled as it is with an iron fist by Headmaster Grimes (BA, Stoke on Trent),  constantly in search of cash to supplement his income and who runs a whelk stall part-time.
We discussed the powerful literary heritage of 19th and early 20th century boys' public school stories, and the imprinting of their ethos, language and experiences on subsequent generations, as evidenced by books such as Thomas Hughes' Tom Brown's School Days (1857), Frank Richards' Billy Bunter and others - right up to today with Harry Potter and Hogwart's school (a name which first appeared in the Molesworth books as the rival school to St Custard's).  We looked at some examples of the genre from Bath Library's archive of historic children's books, including a copy of A Toast Fag (1901) by Harold Avery, which had been presented as a prize in 1911 to a child at South Oldfield Junior School - far removed from Eton, Harrow and Rugby.  We ended by briefly discussing the influence of P G Wodehouse, who was Anthony Buckeridge's favourite author.
We are staying in the 1950s next month to read The Children of Green Knowe by Lucy Boston (1954) and will meet again on Wednesday 5 December 2012 at 1015.

October 2012: Joan Aiken's "Midnight is a Place" and our November book

We journeyed back into some unspecified time and location this month when we opened the covers of Joan Aiken's 1974 classic, Midnight is a Place.  With grotesque characters,  a bleak and snowy countryside, a pair of ragged orphans - and a grimy mill town with an extraordinarily high workplace accident rate - it was redolent with parodic echoes of Charles Dickens and Mrs Gaskell at their most melodramatic.  It's reminiscent too of The Secret Garden and Jane Eyre.  While we winced at the author's use of "oop north" dialect to distinguish the workers from the gentry, the Boz-like illustrations by Pat Marriott added to the illusion of being somewhere in Victorian industrial England, most likely beyond the Watford Gap ... 

Born in 1924, Aiken was the daughter of Pulitzer Prize-winning American poet Conrad Aiken and the step-daughter of novelist and poet Martin Armstrong. Home-educated between the wars on a diet of much Victorian literature and early 20th century writing, her heritage is unmistakeable.  This is a quirky book, stuffed with inventive and memorable imagery, and fascinating ideas that appeal to children and adults alike.  

Those who had read Midnight is a Place when they were younger recalled most vividly the scenes in the carpet factory: particularly the enormous press thundering terrifyingly down from the roof to squash any little clot snatcher too slow to get out of the way.  As adults, we were each struck by any number of tiny and imaginative details: Handel's tuning fork, a grandmother living in a Georgian ice-house, loaves of bread baked with chestnut flour, the red coat, a mediaeval jewelled saddle fished out of the sewers, the Friendly Society that's anything but ...

Aiken's beautifully observed young hero, Lucas, sets out the central thesis in his schoolroom essay in the opening pages: "Industry is a good thing because it is better to work in a carpet factory than to be out in the rain with nothing to eat".  He then spends the rest of the book discovering the truth about this middle-class perspective on the lot of the poor.  Thrown together with the fiercely independent young French girl, Anna-Marie, and then abandoned to their own devices, the children are subjected to a series of trials and hardships so monumentally awful, in a winter so cold and dreadful, that you just long for the first sign of spring to bring some relief!  There's surprising tragedy too, including a ghastly and unexpected fight to the death with a piece of industrial equipment.

One interesting theme in Midnight is a Place is that of the role of the music teacher being used as a device to cross the divide between the gentry and the working classes.  We think this may occur in other books too - we just need to confirm this with a few examples.

Finally, the consensus was that (although the story was initially hard to get into) most of us were "gripped without loving it".  Almost too darkly melodramatic - rainswept, snowy, cold and filthy - and with any number of convenient plot twists advancing to a rapid conclusion, Midnight is a Place has just a slight tinge of a Victoria Wood Christmas Special.

Next month we're off to a boys' prep school when we're reviewing Jennings' Little Hut by Anthony Buckeridge (1951).  Supersonic!

September 2012: Erich Kästner's "Emil and the Detectives" and our October book

Today was spent tracking criminals through the back streets of Berlin with Emil (Tischbein) and his two dozen or more young friends, as we reviewed Erich Kästner's 1928/9 classic children's book, Emil and the Detectives.

Born in 1899 in Dresden, by 1927 Kästner had established himself in Berlin as a prolific and respected journalist and author, and one of the most important intellectual figures in pre-WW2 Germany. A pacifist who had served as a young soldier at the end of WW1, he published poems and articles in many important periodicals and newspapers. During the book burnings in Berlin's Opernplatz on 10 May 1933 he was personally denounced (amongst others) by Goebbels in what is now known as 'die Feuerrede' (the fire speech), and his works were thrown onto the bonfires - with the exception of Emil and the Detectives, which presumably stood alone in matching up to the regime's demand for "decency and morality in family and state".

"Gegen Dekadenz und moralischen Verfall! Für Zucht und Sitte in Familie und Staat! Ich übergebe dem Feuer die Schriften von Heinrich Mann, Ernst Glaeser und Erich Kästner."  (Against decadence and moral decay! For decency and morality in family and state! I hand over to the fire the writings of Heinrich Mann, Ernst Glaeser and Erich Kästner.)

Our knowledge of the ghastly events that were just around the corner for Emil, his friends and their families adds a real poignancy to this simple yet enormously satisfying story. 1920s Berlin comes happily to life as Kästner locates the action firmly in its bohemian café society. Music plays in the streets, there's the smell of frying sausages in the air and the villain enjoys his coffee and a cigarette at a table in the famous Café Josty (the pre-war meeting place for Berlin's writers and artists which was destroyed during WW2 and has been reincarnated in the Sony Centre, one of Berlin's modern landmarks). 

The boys of 1920s Berlin had enviable freedom: unhampered by over-anxious parents with mobile phones they roamed the streets having wonderful adventures, while still managing to be incredibly polite to grown-ups and thoughtful of each other. They are largely unconcerned by social differences: Emil is a country mouse in town, but is welcomed by the streetwise young Berliners. The children - more than a hundred of them by the end of the book - inhabit their own exciting world and operate just under the adult radar; free to come and go, they have adventures that turn out well for all concerned, while a slice of apple cake and a hot chocolate is fair reward for their efforts.

Wittily illustrated by Walter Trier (an anti-fascist who was also bitterly opposed to - and by - the Nazi regime), and with Kästner's occasional humorous asides and sly insertion of himself into the story, adult readers are kept as amused as their younger audiences, and the book is refreshingly free of moralising (apart from Grandma's outdated exhortion to "always send cash through the post"). There's even the mandatory comic policeman who can't remember Emil's surname.  However, Walter de la Mare's lengthy introduction was universally condemned as a dreadful plot spoiler!

There was some discussion of the quality and nature of the English translation from the original German (we were reading Eileen Hall's 1959 version), with the view expressed by those of the group who are German speakers that the book is more genteel in tone than would have been the case. Perhaps there's an opportunity for a new translation of Emil that uses a more authentic voice and replicates the Berlin street slang of the original? The portrayal of Pony, the only girl in the story, although understandable for its time, was something of a disappointment. Despite her seeming liberation at first, with her bicycle and her brisk approach to boys, she remained firmly in the role of home-maker and head chef.

All that said, we loved our brief stay in pre-war Berlin. In comparison to the more sophisticated stories that children read today, Emil and the Detectives is a charming, simple yet fast-paced story that ends well and leaves the reader satisfied that all's right with the world.

At our next meeting we will be reviewing Joan Aiken's historical novel for young adults, Midnight is a Place (1974).