Fiction: March 2006 Archives

“Hugo Pepper” is the third, and sadly reportedly also the final, novel in this series. Mystery, adventure and humour combine as Hugo pieces together the fragments of stories amassed by renowned story collector Wilfrid McPherson, the background to the blight that The Firefly Quarterly has become upon Firefly Square and the role of himself and his family to the legend of Brimstone Kate and her lost treasure. The joy here is that readers make their own deductions in parallel alongside Hugo to arrive at the various kinds of misappropriation the media are wielding to exert control over the community of Firefly Square.

What is particularly admirable in “Hugo Pepper” is that Stewart and Riddell have crafted in this book a remarkably apt yet good-humoured exploration of the way stories construct our sense of identity – our personal history with ancestries amalgamated, the platform of the present and the possibilities the future poses for us all…

The gentlemen are on fine flying form here, prompting the request “Please Sirs, we want some more…”

Agatha Bilke is a problem child, a girl with more than a passing penchant for arson. At their wits end, her parents admit her to the TreadQuietly Clinic for interesting children an institute run by Dr Alan and Tim Humphrey, who believe they have developed the ultimate ‘creative’ therapy that will revolutionise the treatment of all forms of childhood anxiety, phobia, hysteria and neurosis… their belief is somewhat misplaced.

This is journalist, Sian Pattenden’s first children’s books and Short Books fist work of fiction and it is certainly a most distinctive and readable offering. Characters in this short, pacy book are in equal parts peculiar and endearing – Barry, a boy who has the unfortunate affliction not to be able to refer to himself in anything but the third person, is one of the most humorous and memorable.

Each child admitted to the TreadQuietly clinic has his own particular fear, phobia or some-such foible; for one this is toast, for another the belief that meteorites might befall the planet at any given point… Treatment of these characters is largely individualistic which provides a framed setting for a series of vignettes rather than the cohesion of more traditional novels. The stylish and sophisticated illustrations lend the book a quirky fable-like feel. It would sit comfortably amidst stories with a similar ‘cautionary’ feel including Tim Burton’s “Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy”, Tom Baker’s “The Boy Who Kicked Pigs” and of course the seminar tales by Hillaire Belloc.

‘Look at me, Elizabeth. Do you think I’m wicked? Do you think I’m a devil? In my time everyone was a Catholic, because there was only one Church, but even then I was different from the others because of the shadow land. Don’t let your mind be clouded by what other people have told you. Judge me with your heart.’

So speaks the strange green child that twelve-year-old Elizabeth finds in the forest as she secretly tends a ruined Catholic shrine. The year is 1586 and Protestant England is an unforgiving place for Catholics. But mindless blame, fear and persecution are nothing new, as the green child, Isabella, can testify. She herself was born more than three hundred years ago, the child of a wise woman and midwife. Her mother was executed as a witch, a scapegoat when a rich family’s baby was born with a faulty heart, and since then Isabella has hidden mostly in the land of faeries, leaving her bones hidden in a hollow tree awaiting her return.

Yes, this all sounds a little strange, but Sarah Singleton has a gift for blending the seen and the unseen, the matter-of-fact and the magical, into a convincing whole. After all, what is the magical other than something we are not used to or don’t understand? And that is what this book deals with; the problem of how the different (in this case the spiritually different) can be demonised by the unthinking mob. Set against the hounding of Ruth Leland (Isabella’s mother) and the sixteenth century persecution of Catholics is the simple and powerful friendship that develops between the two girls. For Isabella her tragedy is done, and yet she berates herself for not having stayed at her mother’s side until the bitter end. For Elizabeth the fear has just begun: the Queen has sent the brutal Christopher Merrivale to hunt for the priest that her family is sheltering. Perhaps here there is a chance for the two girls to help each other: for Isabella to gain ‘closure’ and a second chance with a loving family, whilst Elizabeth gains safety and escape.

A powerful tale against a strong historical backdrop, this book introduces many themes but works most of all because of the focus on the girls’ fears and hopes and needs. In comparison, the sinister Merrivale, the dogmatic and ecstatic priest, even the cold-hearted faeries, seem unimportant, no matter what their schemes and desires. The writing, too, is mostly first rate, with a great feel for visual detail:

‘As the men whispered one to another, light and shadows slid over their faces, alternately revealing and hiding eyes, noses, mouths moist with wine and words. They looked like demons, leering and grimacing.’

A highly appealing, multi-dimensional historical adventure. Check it out.

“Alice Next Door” is structured around two best friends, Megan and Alice who are separated when the latter moves from their home-town of Limerick to start off afresh with her mother in Dublin. The book focuses on their endeavours to stay in touch, the feelings of loss both experience and a, perhaps, none too cunning plan to stay together!

Where this book succeeds so well is in showing the repercussions that decisions made by adults have on children and the ways in which, accordingly, they must live through these. A happy-ever-after scenario is not presented at the end of the novel, but then this would not be feasible either for Megan or for Alice. The resultant ending is about compromise and leaves the way wide open for a sequel featuring this indomitable duo. At once perceptive and humorous, this novel will doubtless strike a chord with many young readers.

I absolutely loved this book, having already relished the earlier titles in the series. Reeve’s exceptional fondness for his characters frees them to behave in complicated, inconsistent and often misguided ways, and the relationships between the characters are similarly complex (Hester and Shrike being the most poignant example). This is writing of much greater emotional subtlety and empathy than is suggested by the muscular ‘steampunk’ setting. A Darkling Plain is not as unreservedly fast-paced as the earlier books; despite the dreadful thrill of the escalating hostilities between the Traction Cities and the Green Storm, the narrative is interspersed with strange little episodes of introspection, as the Stalker Fang explores her inimical dual personalities, and Tom contemplates his rapidly failing health. Moreover, the conclusion of the book is simply astonishing and alters the reader’s sense of everything that has gone before, through an extraordinary shift of perspective. I could go on…

Sachar’s writing is as fresh and uncomplicated as ever, and one is immediately swept up into the compulsive narrative. Tension builds quickly as the two boys find themselves hurtling back towards incarceration when their supposedly fool-proof scam inevitably goes awry. Armpit finds counsel in an unlikely friendship with his neighbour – a younger girl with cerebral palsy who takes her problems in her stride and encourages him to do the same. A romance blossoms under the most unexpected circumstances and Armpit is drawn into the daunting world of a teenage rock-chick, further complicating his already fretful situation.

As arch-nemesis go, Mrs Brisbane is a relatively lax one, however, and it is not long until Humprhey is playing an active role again within the class, spending each weekend with a different class member with gradual realisations as to the links between their home-lives and their behaviour in class. Soon the notebook Humphrey fills in – he’s a precocious little fellow – becomes an imaginative guide to life with sensitively scribed notes on bullying, improving self-confidence, unruly behaviour and much, much more. All of this is interspersed with remarkably salient tips from Dr Harvey H Hammer’s book “Guide to the Caring and Feeding of Hamsters”.

With cheeks chock full of humour and adventure, rarely have rodentia made for such a reasurring read.