ACHUKAREVIEWS...

A short introductory text places the structure of “76 Pumpkin Lane” into context and provides a tantalising glimpse of the gory and grotesque inhabitants found therein. Character exposition is limited to a scant few details, but this is purposeful, allowing readers to act-out their own stories and scenarios using the figurines included within the setting that Mould has created. Each of ten rooms sport different accessories and accoutrements allowing for imaginative interaction and play. A victory for the delight of visceral fears made visual!

Dad is eager to enter the human bird competition that is due to take place over the river Tyne and which has attracted international interest – ‘there’s a fella from France that’s screwed wings to his bike. There’s a lass from Japan with a ten foot pogo stick. There’s a bloke from Brazil with an umbrella on his head and a propeller on his bum…’

The archetype whereby the child’s inner-imaginative world is constructed as all-embracing is reversed by David Almond in this latest work, where it is Lizzie’s dad – and his obsession with all things fowl and flight – that drive the story and the attempts to find freedom of flight.

Polly Dunbar’s vibrant illustrations make her the perfect illustrator to collaborate on this book. The building blocks of the story will feel familiar with those who have read Almond’s body of work to date, influences from William Blake continue to abound as too does a preoccupation with the human form and flight. Ultimately, however, this is an upbeat and uplifting story that transcends ideas of social norms through realising the importance of the love than underpins all of this.

In bringing the story of Cleopatra to life through the eyes of Nefret, a young Egyptian girl who is conscripted to work for the royal household, Adele Geras paints a vivid portrait of this extraordinary, sparkling historical figure. The diary entries of Nefret provide a wealth of colour and detail about Ancient Egypt and – through choosing a first-person narrative told by a girl, Geras easily conveys just what an astoundingly inspirational figurehead Cleopatra must have presented.

Cleopatra’s story links Ancient Egyptian history with that of Ancient Rome, both focal areas in the key-stage two, National Curriculum history syllabus. Production values of the book are incredibly high with M. P. Robertson’s lavish spreads that perfectly capture the movement, tone and time of the period being interspersed with photographic imagery of key historical artefacts. Notes are appended at the end about Alexandria, the Roman army, the river Nile and more, providing valuable factual context to this fictionalised account of Cleopatra’s life.

An accomplished synergy of wonderful writing, illustrative innovation and pride in publishing production values make this a venture that is not to be missed. Whether reading for pleasure or for purpose, this is a tome to be treasured. Look out for Steve Augarde’s “Leonardo da Vinci” which Kingfisher have scheduled for publication in 2008.

There is a marvellous sense of joyous celebration towards the end of this short book as we see Ben actively engage and participate, at which points he feels valued and worthwhile. The juxtaposition between this and the opening of the books is a testament to Anderson’s very real skills as an author. In a short work she has created an entirely convincing fiction where characters develop and adapt to the circumstances surrounding them and to the altered situations facing one another when interacting.

Praise must go to Barn Owl Books – who have recently faced financial uncertainties – for bringing back into print this brilliant shot novel, first published under the ‘Mammoth Read’ imprint and given a new lease of life with superb new accompanying illustrations by Jane Ray

Arabella’s studious nature leads to her developing ‘The Sparklebang Code’, this when combined with the Mammoth Mammoth, a giant model that pupils have made at the academy leads to an explosive solution as the humans encroach upon the Academy.

The inimitable and illustrious Layton’s mixed media illustrations perfectly complement the anarchic irreverence of this latest installment about the Mammoths; fun, friendly and furiously fast-paced, readers will find themselves caught in a frenetic race to the feast at the finale!

Following a meeting with his social worker, Mouse bumps into Cat, whom it transpires is a petty shop-lifter. The two of them form an alliance and are able to relate parts of their past to one another.

Together the pair help Mouse’s mother re-establish the Phoenix Centre, the drugs rehabilitation centre in the ironically named ‘Eden Estate’, following its destruction in an arson attack. Cat and Mouse become convinced that the vicious circle the estate is trapped within can be broken and so they embark upon carrying out vigilante style retribution. Whilst this is, in part, successful, it throws them into the arms of the police whereupon the secrets they have kept concealed from one another are revealed with huge consequences.

The phoenix motif in the novel is particularly apt to this story about rebirth and regrowth. Cathy Cassidy has paired the importance of responsibility against the essential nature of self-expression in this heart-warming, life-affirming tale.

“The Snow Goose” follows the plight of Philip Rhayader, an artist living out a solitary existence on the Essex Coast. Blighted by a physical deformity that distances him from the society surrounding him, his tenderness and love find purpose only through nurturing injured wild-fowl back to well-health.

An injured snow goose brings the feisty young Frith to Rhayader, and together the two of them nurse the creature. The other-worldly aspect of the Great Marsh is purged by current affairs as news of the war and the situation facing soldiers in Dunkirk spreads. With this, human devastation infiltrates the ebb-and-flow of the natural, wild environs of the marsh.

Rhayader resolves to sail his boat across to Dunkirk whereupon he plans to rescue the soldiers stranded upon the beach. From this point, the remainder of the story becomes piecemeal, gathered from a variety of sources and puzzled together arriving at a conclusion laced with pathos, unfulfilled desires and things unsaid.

The salt-sting of the sea air and its desolation are captured brilliantly by Angela Barrett’s majestic illustrations which evoke the wild untamed, atmosphere of the book with a raw, untamed power and grace that proves entirely equal to this haunting tale.

Purporting to guide readers through the ‘mysterious and inventive life of Enid Blyton’, Duncan McLaren’s “Looking for Enid” documents the geography that lay behind much of her life and attempts to place this in context of her work. The major initial problem with this line of thinking is that the hypothesis it posits is reliant upon the weight of emphasis and significance that McLaren places upon particular works and characters at the exclusion of others that are in contravention of his pre-defined ideologies, making this a curiously single-sided work. Only those out of the many tunnels and secret passages that fit with McLaren’s slightly aslant psycho-analytic reading, only those towers which fit with the autobiographical detail he feels permeates the works are granted accord, the remainder meanwhile are dismissed.

In spite of this, parts of McLaren’s work are revelatory and parts of his research – where it is grounded and does not involve flirtatious theorising that seems to serve its apparent primary purpose, the titillation of his travelling companion Kate – are to be applauded. This, however, is too dilute and embedded within too much supposition to be of major interest.

With the literary equivalent of a nervous-twitch, McLaren appropriates Blyton’s characters and lives out parts of his own thoughts, feelings and desires and those that he projects upon Blyton herself. This occurs most inappropriately when Enid and first husband Hugh have an imagined bed-time conversation as rabbits, Binkle and Flip discussing the hope for a fully-developed uterus… “Oh, it wouldn’t have to be a fully developed one. Not an arterial road running right through me! But perhaps I could wish for the uerus of an 18-year-old girl. Do you think that would be too much to ask for?” It becomes hard not to recoil!

Blyton’s position within the children’s literature world and the sheer mass of work she produced means that further consideration – and that which travels beyond the shifting trends and tectonics of political correctness – is needed, but this title is unequal to that. Barbara Stoney’s official biography is far more engaging, more precisely written and of lasting interest than the current work.

Portobello must be praised for the high-production values on this work, however, whether the self-indulgent content in its current form warranted publication is certainly questionable.

Raven’s grief, despair and guilt moves through stages as the novel progresses. He denies the reality of what has happened, weaving around himself a protective film of lies and half-truths. Though the stigma of mental health problems are encountered through the levels of misunderstanding and of miscomprehension that surround Raven, the mind is depicted here as resilient, strong and in a process of renewal and of resolution.

Suzuma’s willingness to draw from a reservoir of biographical experience to colour her characters with credibility makes this a courageous novel and, in an age when one in four people experience mental health problems throughout their lives, a highly worthwhile and contemporaneous one also.

Against this backdrop, Shehana herself, a Londoner with Bangladeshi family ties, rallies against the fast-approaching marriage that her family feel is so timely but that represent a very real blockade to the future she herself aspires towards and her desire to enter higher education.

Race assumptions are constantly subverted and just what it means to belong to a particular group and to identify ourselves within a specific set of cultural and social ideologies is probed incisively with by Johnson. This is a gripping thriller, with rich writing that envelops and engages from start to finish and that reveals the dehumanising influences of viewing the body as object, distinct from mind and personality. In parts dark, in parts disturbing, this is a smart and sassy novel with a strongly defined sense of pace and of purpose. A relevant and resonant novel that is well worthy of promotion.

So begins a desperate plight to escape pursuers, to find sanctuary to seek assistance where available, but to be aware of the position and danger such a trust necessarily places himself and Ninian within.

Jauncey’s ending to the novel leaves the swathes of problems over the nature of land-ownership and possession open and poses the chilling question as to whether we are in fact now fighting for the political and philosophical space of childhood itself…

Following the life and thoughts of Rachel Riley through a series of diary entries, the novel is similar in form and in feel to the Georgia Nicholson series by Louise Rennison. A distinction exists, however, in that a more coherent thread of storylines and plots courses beneath the self-conscious, though rarely self-aware, diary entries of the protagonist.

Resolved that the current year truly will be her most dramatically tragic yet, Rachel is so focused upon this aim, she is unaware of the more irregular and surreal aspects of her life. Ascorbic and probing, writing so sharp and so pointed should carry a safety warning!

Narinda Dhami has a definite ear for dialogue and a keenly astute eye for social interaction resulting in prose that is witty, wise and a genuine delight. Analogies between changes that have affected past and present generations and an ability to reach a resolve for past misdemeanours and misconceptions make for a thought-provoking and satisfying read.

Following the separation of his mother and father, Kyle has become socially withdrawn. Embarking upon a class trip, the train that Kyle and his peers are on is de-railed and hangs precariously between safety and danger, life and death, for all those on board.

One of the few individuals conscious on the train, Kyle finds that he is able to experience at first hand the dreams – and thereby the fears, guilt and neuroses – that his fellow passengers are subject to…

Large questions regarding, faith, belief, reality, truth, preordination and psych-kinesis are stimulated and are constantly brought to the fore as the narrative pace races through a total of thirteen nightmares told in a frame-setting.

Blackman depicts horror at its most chilling and efficacious through drawing the shades of darkness from sources identifiable to the everyman. The personal base to several of the dream described makes this a brave work, its considered nature and seriousness of intent ensuring it is, at once, in equal parts worthwhile.

The strands of a story that spans three separate generations are woven together expertly by Michael Morpurgo and chart life prior to, during and following the Holocaust. Far from explicit, the atrocities of the period are concealed beneath the urgent attempts of Paulo Levi’s parents’ to survive.

High culture and barbarism are played out against one another emphasising the tragedy and extent and magnitude of the history that underpins this fiction. Subtle reference to this is made as Morpurgo draws a wide geographic base around his characters that are thrown together, pulled apart and eventually drawn back to one another through the nature of all they have seen and heard.

The power of art to heal and foster understanding is explored and manifested in this quiet, contemplative work.

This first story sees the cattle careering back to Tudor times where they must foil the Ter-moo-nator’s attempts to install a cow-counterpart in place of Henry VIII’s fourth wife, Anne of Cleaves.

Milking the thrills of time-travel alongside the spills of a history, plotted to have gone somewhat awry, this series presents bovines at their brilliant best kowtowing to none and to nothing.

Keen to see David with others of his own age, his grandmother insists on his attending an egg hunt over Easter. Caught in a reverie, David instead begins looking the woods and finds an egg in the mouth of what he believes to be a dead body.

Through a series of false-starts, trust and mistrust, David is befriended by the thirteen-year-old Primrose who has no dad and a neglectful, eccentric, fortune-telling mother. Realism and surrealism interweave to concoct a heady memorable rites-of-passage narrative whereby neither David nor Primrose feel complete, happy or entirely understood and supported.

Spinelli’s understated narrative brings the two together as friends whose bonds are robust and rigorous. A moving account of the way we each of us depend upon others even at those times when we endeavour to assert our independence most stridently.

Orion Children’s books have produced a bind-up of “The boy with magic numbers”, where a gift from his father enables protagonist Billy to predict number sequences with remarkable proficiency leading him to solve numerous numerical conundrams and ultimately to become embroiled in trying to rescue son of a millionaire, Walter Minks Junior, from kidnappers. Positive attitude and furthermore the desire to utilise skills responsively build through a succession of twists, turns, plots and sub-plots to a thoroughly heartening climax.

Flipping the book provides readers with the opportunity to read the story of “The Invisible Boy”. When Sam’s parents win a trip to the moon., the appropriately named Mrs Hardbottom, the family’s nextdoor neighbour, offers to look after him. This allows Gardner to achieve one of the archetypes of children’s literature, the child alone, conquering adversity. Salvation from the harsh treatment Sam suffers at the hand of Mrs Hardbottom arrives in a salad-spinner in the form of Splodge, an alien, whose patch makes Sam invisible, thereby initiating a series of... and reversing the adage that children should be seen and not heard.

These are sedate stories feeling almost as though they are from an age ago, in spite of these, or more properly, because of this, they retain a sense of wonder, magic and awe that makes life feel fuller and more flavoursome. Sally Gardner taps into the dream consciousness of children – and adults(!) – everywhere in these two timeless tales.

What makes these books so special and so clever is the sense in which they are thoroughly recognisable and set in an everyday environment that readers are instantly able to feel an affinity towards. Whilst magic influences gives levels of guidance to the child protagonists that lie at each story’s centre, that magic is skilfully utilised by Gardner as a means for developing a resilience and an increased sense of engagement with the world that surrounds them.

Critical comment surrounding ‘Harry Potter’ has increasingly failed to distinguish between popularity and content. The brand has become testament to the technologies and communications that have rendered popular culture as globalised. Commentary has focused around a rigid mythology surrounding its creator and creation rather than pinioning itself to the books themselves.

In establishing the ground-plan and layout for the final book, previous titles have worked towards determining this as a cataclysmic wrangling between good – personified via Harry Potter – and evil – manifested through Voldemort in an epic battle that sends quakes of fear and impending danger through the whole of the wizard and non-wizard worlds alike.

With the exception of the opening of the novel, the impending doom, however, never feels to be significant, or indeed to exert itself on anyone other than a minor clique. Sentimentalism and sensation have removed the edge from this particular brand of danger.

Genetic inheritance and race underpin the whole of Voldemort’s philosophies and are structured as the backbone that affords Voldemort’s evil a level of intent and thereby of plausibility. Failure to engage with this and a reticence to draw deeply from oblique thematic reference to Hitler’s ‘Final Solution’ make the concluding episode of the ‘Harry Potter’ books flaccid shackling Voldemort to the position of a pantomime villain. As readers, we may ‘boo’, we may ‘hiss’, but there will be few that are chilled to the bones by result of the 'what if' as without root or foundation many of the blurrings between good and evil that Rowling has outlined are degraded

Magic is as much a convenience as it is an integral part of a plausible culture and community. Delineations between the magic and non-magic world are shifting with squibs, mudbloods (or the more euphemistic term ‘Muggle-borns’ – although this itself appears a derisory reference towards those lacking potential and ability, more so than non-wizards at least). Distinctions are rarely explained and so cohesion to the fundamental premise of this fantasy world is eroded.

Characterisation and development through the series is highly limited, restricted to a series of gropes and fumbles – abhorrent stereotyping of adolescence - that allegedly symbolise the ascent towards physical and mental maturation.

If the paucity of ‘Pottermania’ is indeed, truly a gauge of our reading culture, nationally, perhaps we should all be concerned that one series should, alone, have attained such breadth of focus in a country that annually publishes upwards of 10,500 books and that the 'magic' of the literary inheritance for the inhabitants of this sceptred isle is a world - like that of Hogwarts - unattainable for so many...

This takes a sinister turn when he is captured on the moors and is appropriated as a couple’s child… A beast is reputed to be at large on the moors and there are rumours concerning the disappearance – and possible murder of a child.

Catherine Macphail’s text probes at identity, stimulating question as to just who is after Ram, the nature of the knowledge he possesses and why this poses a threat to certain individual… MacPhail seeds the idea of latent knowledge and examines how we operate in an environment when we lack understanding of our positions within that society.

The prank falls somewhat flat, however, when an apparition does indeed appear and begins maligning Justin, his sister and Daniel with an ever forceful vehemence. As in previous works, “The Devil’s Footsteps” and “The Intruders”, Richardson’s prose is sparse, taut and highly charged. The book transcends much of the genre through its exposure of intergenerational familial dysfunction and the ramifications of a failure to reach resolution. Dark, brooding and boldly different...

“It may sound fanatical to time everything out so carefully, but minutes were what we lived by: stolen minutes, minutes between lessons, four minutes to smoke a fag, twenty minutes for a pint at the pub, free periods during which forged exam papers or contraband could be purchased.”

Rosoff writes in a nowhere time that paradoxically is anytime and everytime, she writes about nobody that is anybody and somehow everybody.

In her latest novel, the slow submergence of the Suffolk coastline emphasises the inevitable movement away from childhood and into adulthood with all the efficacy of the Tick Tock of Barrie's interminable, crocodile-swallowed, clock.

Rosoff explores a childhood that, divorced from the rigour and regime of adult influence is empowered and free. Written in retrospect, the novel recounts one boy’s complete, obsessive infatuation with another… The latter youth, Finn, is a Thoreau-like figure who has returned to a more basic, less pressured style of existence. Refuge from the outside world is broken when Finn becomes ill, however. It becomes apparent then that Finn is not the person he was seen as being. Gender, sexuality and an assumed knowledge about ourselves and others combine in this delicately wrought novel.

A wonderfully rich invocation of pathos and humour are evoked by the stuffed pike that befriends Stanley, by the misfortunes that befall the ghost of Admiral Swift and his lost appendage. The manner through which affectionate good humour and the chill of suspense and fear are juxtaposed and yet equally held in balance makes for a beautifully full-bodied and wholesome story. Illustrations draw on the quirky satirical traditions of Searle, Scarfe and Steadman and there is a touch of genius in the thoughtful way with which these have been appropriated and augmented for the market of children’s books.

Through etching indelible images, visual and verbal, in the minds of his readers, Mould is creating a series that will appeal at once to the polar extremes of the most avid readers and those who are least confident. Exciting both in terms of its production and its narrative, this book is a potent reminder that reading at its best really is the adventure of a lifetime and that stories are a birth-right in which we all share and are able to communicate differences and divergences of opinion.

Fans of Pete Johnson’s work will neithbe neither surprised nor disappointed to learn that he has penned no ordinary teenage spy novel. Henry has a secret concerning his father and indiscretions from his past that have been manipulated to secure self-interest. Henry is now determined to reveal the truth and with a similar deftly, Johnson sows the seeds of his story with just the right precision to keep readers edging ever closer, but never quite guessing the truth behind this twisting, turning story. Fiendishly cunning and cleverly observed, Pete Johnson brings fresh flavour and gives food for thought to the common staple of the teen spy novel

Back for his ninth adventure, the hapless Jiggy McCue finds himself transported to a parallel world in which he becomes divorced from his familiar motley crew of musketeers. In itself, this highlights Lawrence’s aptitude for revealing the inner-workings and mechanics of group friendships, social interaction and communal thoughts and actions – an understanding that places his series alongside stalwarts of children’s literature, Nesbit and Blyton, who showed similar awareness and ability to convey this effectually through unembellished, fast-moving prose style.

Literary influences figure highly in Michael Lawrence’s body of work, as he quite correctly asserts in his preface, this is not done ‘slavishly’ here, but rather creates parallels that are parodied – and sometimes ridiculed(!) – adding to the jovial nature of the predicaments Jiggy encounters.

Cleverly interweaving details and character facets from the previous books in the series, this is absurdist humour at its unequivocal best – belly laughs abound in this rib-tickled read!

Choice of the plague as a colourful backdrop for the novel betrays a pedestrian storyline and prose style that relies largely upon stereotype and sweeping generalisation as to the tastes and ‘truths’ of childhood. Eclipsing the novel is the story of its production. This is the first of several series in Egmont’s cynical “2Heads” imprint, which sees children consulted over the contents of the list.

Reliant upon the notion of a set of ‘universal’ truths that are somehow applicable to all children and are made available through consultation with a select group, consultation is located firmly within the contemporary preoccupation that active engagement in the arts is possible without tutelage or awareness of the field. A necessary lack of experience and restricted reading base become limitations that seriously impinge upon the imaginative scope available to writers, necessitating that the ways reading is able widen our windows onto the world and our sense of perspective and understanding. Reading at its widest and most liberated instead becomes substituted for that which is already known and has been experienced. It becomes a process of less than enviable recirculation…

The self-flagellating approach that children should be consulted with all that concerns them, limits the choices and opportunities available, only to those which are readily within a said ‘child’s’ field of experience. It is invariably difficult to rise above the mundane with something that is lasting and likely to make an impression. “Terror in Cubicle Four” lacks the characterisation and emotional base that make it possible to empathise and understand.

Production values are low, illustrations by Pulsar Studios bear little relation to the text – the tentacle described on page twenty-three is visualised as a distinct creature, a nematode of sorts and the choice of illustration feels arbitrary and often poorly orchestrated.

Our approach to writing, publishing and making reading material readily available for children is seriously jeopardised when reticence over ‘adult’ involvement is made whether that be instigated through commercial or egalitarian motivations…

The highly innovative and imaginative illustrator Joel Stewart proves himself equally proficient at the pacing and plotting of fiction for young readers in “The Trouble with Wenlocks”. Travel on a train takes an unexpected turn when everyone slips into slumber save for Stanley Wells who experiences an apparition. This apparition is later revealed to have been a Wenlock, an ethereal being with the ability to remove fear and uncertainty.

With parents living apart, and voyages made between their respective home, Stanley has been the subject of great change. His train ride extends as a metaphor for the journey of his own life, one that he must travel, arriving at difficult decisions alone with regard to his outlook and intended destination...

Delightfully idiosyncratic and whimsical, Joel Stewart captures that sense of the surreal that accompanies feelings experienced for the first time. Caught, on the one hand, between the enigmatic Dr Moon's careful guidance and sage advice and, on the other, Joel Stewart's intriguing first novel, readers could not be in safer hands.

“Unzipped – a toolkit for life” is a welcome return of the winning format used previously but here updated for revised. Carefully interwoven firsthand experiences and the occasional joke prevent the book from becoming a diatribe of paternalistic guidance and advice diminishing the very real concerns that can accompany adolescence.

Written and designed with precision, many will feel as comfortable with reading this as with FHM, Loaded, Nuts or any of the other boorish magazines aimed at the young male market and further restricting popular constructions of masculinity through positing football, cars and sexual bigotry as the unique preserves of the male and denying all that is emotional or cerebral in content. Matt Whyman’s skill is in appropriating this style but through subtle awareness of the head of emotional steam that lies behind all as they encounter the transition from childhood to adulthood, paying tribute to the emotional concerns that lie beyond the front, a standpoint worthy of applause.

Suffering a slight at the hands of the ‘Lip Gloss Girls’ after having been accused of betraying her former best-friend, Erin, Hannah Driscoll feels isolated, ostracised and caught between her former gang and their rivals, the ‘Hell Cats’. In an abrupt – though totally convincing – plot turn, Hannah becomes accepted into the rival gang, allowing for the dynamics of group mentalities to be exposed and for a series of lively revelations as to the characteristics and motivations of both groups of girls to be played out against one another expertly.

As ever, Catherine MacPhail shows deftness of in having crafted a thoroughly readable and compelling novel that has a needle-point sharpness in its no-bars-held insight into the types of assumption and prejudice concerning the stigma and prejudiced expectations that arise concerning ‘class’ both in educational and social settings.

Although sometimes overt in the narrative’s placement of moral and ethical standards, the story nonetheless makes for a fast-paced, action adventure that will doubtless find a legion of fans foremost of these are likely to be those who are savvy with the fast evolving worlds of gadget and computer aided technologies. With often exotic and far-flung locations, an increasingly enticing array of spy gadgetry and the promise of top-secret assignments, this series has enough hooks to capture the imaginations of even the most reluctant of readers…

Assigned the task of looking after new pupil, Ivan, by headteacher Mrs Blaizely, Boris finds himself constantly trying to veil darkly threatening comments and a deliberate flouting of authority when translating his new class-mates comments from Russian into English for the benefit of teachers and pupils alike at the highly convivial St Edmund’s school. Throughout the course of the day, the problem escalates in magnitude, placing Boris into ever more cringe-worthy, difficult circumstances as he tries to meet and match Ivan’s menace with good manners.

Anne Fine’s trademark black humour is laced with a delicious sense of precision and of timing throughout the novel. As concurs with the author’s body of work per-se, however, underpinning this humour are keen observations as to the functionality of communication in modern life, the need for expressing one’s wants and desires across whatever boundaries we encounter in life – whether these be geographical or based around engaging with those from different ages or backgrounds to our own and a tendency for children’s voices to be marginalised alongside the egalitarian intents of those imbued with their education and wellbeing.

Publication of this admirable and compelling short novel is the flagship for Anne Fine’s revised and rejacketed backlist with Egmont books.

Not so much a teenage miscreant as an individual for whom the education system and social structure around late childhood has failed to secure and keep safe, Chas, together with his best friend Devil indulges in joy-riding of the most extreme and immoderate variety when hot-wiring a heavy goods vehicle. Consequence of this night is the pair’s eventual placement in a remand home.

Running parallel to this, Chas has been writing to a prisoner on Death Row who has been accused of murdering a child. In order to be accepted onto the letter-writing programme, Chas pretends to be his mother, thereby concealing his age, a deception that later has dire consequences.

Throbbing at the heart of this gritty, urban tale is a wealth of ideas. It is the social interaction and the minutiae of power-dialectics amongst adolescent characters that Kennen observes with such accuracy.

Unlike with ‘Beast’, Kennen’s prodigious debut novel, the narrative and thrust of ‘Berserk’ feels at times a little too out of check and control. The convoluted relationship between Lenny Darling and Chas and Devlin’s families, in addition to the obfuscated messages within the letters he sends when imprisoned stretches credibility to belief and beyond. Scale of many of images in the novel – the severed finger, the hedonistic consumptive feast on the lorry and the high-altitude climax – serve to eclipse many of the like-clockwork mechanics that underpin the narrative. This lends the work an air of many-a-Hollywood blockbuster, high-in-energy, huge-on-impact, yet ultimately disallowing the time and reflective space for its idea base to unfurl to the height of its potential.

The approach negates the careful teasing out of character and motivations that made ‘Beast’ instantly so remarkable and refreshing. Its consequence is a legacy of discursive, high-impact images without the context, continuity or coherency that would have elevated this novel to being exceptional and, if addressed, will lead to Kennen’s becoming one of the most exciting new writers for the young adult market.

Bali Rai’s descriptions of the various dubious ideologies associated with the cult in the book, one of the prime suspects believed to have been implemented with the disappearance of Sophie, shows a clear understanding of the social instability caused by rhetoric and dogma that disassociates itself from even the most basic of humanist ideals. The politicised nature of the cult , a group of individuals forming an enclave of their own rigid and unquestioning beliefs, makes for a compelling, wholly convincing and engaging and thoroughly enraging narrative.

A surprise wholesale turn in narrative direction gives a highly unexpected twist in the tale. This device, however, is neither entirely satisfactory, nor presented in a manner that makes it credible within the story.

Ironically, the nature of prejudice that Rai’s prose incisively negotiates with regard to race is seemingly arbitrarily switched. Implication that the motivation for extreme behaviour carried out by one of the main characters is derived from a gender confusion that stems from infanthood is a facet of the novel that makes for a convenient explanation, but one whose superficial psychological depth succeeds only in making these passages emotionally cold, lacking in sympathy and slipping into the types of prejudice they have so skilfully manoeuvred where race is concerned.

Six new stories see Jamie struggling to protect Angus from the boisterous Bella, learning to paint, taking a post-Christmas, countryside ramble with Uncle Edward, deciding a means for organising his book collection – the one chosen incidentally will have librarians the length and breadth of the country curling their toes in anguish! – and ultimately growing older and the possibility of his feeling a little more distanced from Angus…

“I had this bald, mouldy-looking tennis ball which I dribbled with on the way to school till it disappeared down a drain. I even had a ball that I’d made myself out of cut-up rings from an inner tube wrapped round a core of silver-paper sweet wrappers. It was hardly bigger than a golf ball and bounced about, all that rubber, like a live thing.”

Continuing the social history gleaned from Allan Ahlberg’s childhood that was begun in "My Brother’s Ghost”, this book is set in 1953, the Coronation year, the stimuli for the Coronation Cup, a football tournament local to Oldbury in which the young Ahlberg took part.

Childhood memories and recollections are vividly realised by Ahlberg who describes with verve and zeal anecdotes surrounding the football matches – stolen kits accidentally dyed purple, his mother’s dressing gown-clad nocturnal meanderings… Nostalgia figures highly in this deftly written account of a ‘50s childhood that succeeds in going beyond mere reminiscence to explore social setting, character motivation and childhood from the heightened standpoint of more matured experience and understanding.

There are stories here outlining the reasons and motivations behind asylum; war, political unrest and instability, the promulgation of racist and prejudiced doctrines. Experiences of those seeking asylum is explored, displacement, cultural, religious and language barriers that impede integration, societal expectations of wholesale assimilation and familial fragmentation. These are juxtaposed against the opinions of nationals, this occurs most startlingly in Gaye Hicyilmaz’ “A nice quiet girl”, based on her own feelings and experiences as a child.

Gradual movement towards understanding and towards compassion are the threads that unify each of these stories. Each of the authors contributing to the collection has written a brief introduction that gives context and colour to the stories allowing children to live vicariously the lives of peers whose childhoods have been disturbed and disrupted by adult conflicts in the world which they inhabit.

The Frances Lincoln list represents a veritable treasure trove of world views, belief systems and personalities. The crowning success of this in recent years has been their new fiction list and "Give Me Shelter" is the undisputed jewel within this crown. At a time when media reportage upon issues of asylum remains both polarised and parochial, the threads of humanity woven throughout a book like form the base of particularly strong moral bonds and the fabric of civilisation. Here is a book that should be made univesally available as a declaration of care and compassion in every bookshop, library, school and home across the land.

“What if the world is all ocean… What if this is all there is? Ocean and ocean and ocean. I don’t like it Mara. I hate this wild world.”

Multiple narration and the three interwoven story threads within “Zenith” gives the novel a widened breadth of focus, an extension of influence, that lends it a power and scope far and beyond that of its already impressive predecessor, “Exodus”.

An increasingly desperate world climate – politically and geographically – forms the electric backdrop to 'Zenith'. Driven by the ardent belief that Greenland will have risen above the waters with the melting of the ice-caps, Mara sails a course of attempted salvation for herself and her people (the latter forming an increasingly insurgent crew).

Bertagna’s greatest skill as the author of this remarkable novel is successfully breathing a transcending sense of hope, courage and, over-arching, compassion out from the chaos, corruption and crisis that circumstances have engendered.

Bleakness of the world and the sheer desperation of the plights to salvage life through differentiated means of settlement and abode powered by an urgency for survival is belied by the power, lyricism and poetry of the author’s writing which stimulate thought and thoughtfulness. The ending leaves readers breathless in anticipation of a climax that must surely follow for this climate-change epic…?

“The Museum Book” insinuates the desire for macrocosmic realisation, yet accomplishes this down to the most minute detail, outlining the importance of individual experience and knowledge.

Richard Holloway has done a sterling job in epitomising through his illustrations, the wealth and breadth of knowledge that museums provide us access towards, and in making visual Mark’s verbal challenges as to what constitutes a museum, and to looking beyond the mere fabric and architecture of the buildings themselves.

Not always easy, or comfortable, consideration is given here to the nature of a museum and the plunderous acts that have sometimes underpinned their collation throughout history.

Here is a lasting gift, a tribute and testament to the skills of an author whose creative output, rather than sales figures, marks her out as one of the most remarkable authors of recent years. A welcome and an arguably necessary addition for the bookshelf of the everyman, whether they be young or old...

Extended across from the baseline of the animal provider – the sheep with his wool – Pelle must exchange his own skills, trade and time to acquire the assistance needed by others in this picture books that operates as a child’s externalised sense of social conscience. Roles in society, and the need to utilise our own abiities to gain access to the skills base of those surrounding us makes this a perennially valuable tale. Experience for Pelle placed in a Christian context as the newly made blue suit is completed just in time for Sunday.

A sweet little picture book whose subtle Christian message does not overshadow its imperative for social adeptness through the meeting of our needs and desires. Clear naturalistic illustrations make this book as fresh today as upon initial publication in the early 20th Century.

Look out for “The Sun Egg”, another of Beskow’s classic picture books made available in miniature format by Floris books, whereby the woodland community pontificate over the possible background and nature to the sun egg. The reality of this being something much more commonplace and the mystery weaved around it and the mythical and magical overtures cast around it make this a delightful and unexpected picture book.

“We’d had enough of cleaning and cooking while the men went off and had all the fun. So Ivy called a meeting of all the pirate wives, and we decided to become pirates ourselves. The first all-lady pirate crew in the world. And we’ve not done any cleaning since!”

Found encased in a solid block of ice on the Himalayas, Charlie Small’s second journal recounts our heroes detainment and endeavours to escape the treacherous gang of lady pirates who have become his captives.

This second exciting adventure sees Charlie do battle with a deadly sea slug, become the most wanted felon on the high seas, attempt a rescue attempt from the clutches of Turncoat Craik, pit his wits against a crew of ghost pirates and find cunning use for a puffer fish.

Still unclear as to the exact nature or cause of his current predicament and term of leave from home, Charlie strives to regain possession of his mobile telephone, the only device via which contact with home – albeit a somewhat repetitive and unfulfilling contact – is made…

Experiences for the two siblings from this point forth could scarcely be more divergent. John is evacuated to Mr Nott’s where he is abused and used as forced labour. Molly meanwhile is ‘molly’-coddled by the excesses of Pernilla, a larger than life, glamorous individual who teaches at the local school and is keen to lavish upon her evacuee the source behind each of her every whim and desire. Personal intent behind this becomes increasingly clear as Pernilla’s efforts to extend influence become ever more overt and desperate.

Caught between her own mother and Pernilla who, unable to have children of her own, is keen to adopt Molly and is most persuasive about the type of lifestyle she could expect with her, Molly faces a difficult choice . Town is played out versus country, modernity versus the pastoral, indusrial versus agricultural and emotional versus materialism as Molly is forced to assess what is important to her.

Skilfully observed and rich in its emotional depth and charge, the importance of this book is its ability to stimulate real consideration as to the modern meaning and worth of family ties in the develoment of childhood.

“I heard a hiss. Then a low, menacing snarl. And as the clouds cleared again and the moon shone down, I found myself staring into a pair of blazing yellow eyes.”

Proving once more their exceptional talent for realising their own worlds down to the most minute, vivid and therefore utterly convincing detail, “Barnarby Grimes”, the first book in a new series, sees their work and unique collaborative techniques transposed from the fantasy oeuvre to a more historic setting.

The eponymous Barnaby Grimes is a ‘Tick Tock’ lad, a delivery boy of sorts, whose method of ambulation is across the roof-scapes and skyline of the city. This provides ample helpings of cliff-hanger suspense and tensions in addition to providing spectacular striding panoramas across the city.

The city is replete in its surface veneer of finery and elegance, yet throbbing beneath it is a seedy underbelly of deep, dark secrets, of corruption and power-struggles that has the transformative powers to imbue readers with the sensibilities of an intrepid explorer and an astute sleuth.

The prose is almost poetic, imbued as it is with rhythm and pace and a crystalline crispness. The narrative is lithe and lively. It leaps and bounds as does the lyncathrope that tears at the heart of the novel. Interplay between story and illustration brings to mind a more dynamic version of the dialectic between Harry Furniss and Charles Dicken!

Rich in literary allusion, the book has shades of Stephenson’s “Jekyll and Hyde”, a tinge of Barrie’s dark humour with the ‘Tick Tock’ referencing Hook’s nemesis, the crocodile that swallowed the clock thus emphasising the importance of time in delineating childhood, societal cross-sections that bring to mind Dickens and of course the werewolves themselves, a construct of European folkloric legends with possible literary originations in the Icelandic Volsunga Saga. A thought-provoking and highly engaging new read penned by the hands of one of the most exciting creative collaborations in children’s literature.

Unable to sleep, Salsa finds herself anxious made anxious by her inability to waken any of the other sleeping animals. Tiring of making so much her exertions, Salsa seeks a different place to sleep and eventually recruits the aid of Cork, a passing sheep who she believes will have soporific effect if jumping a fence!

Unable to assist, Salsa eventually requests a story from her mum who starts with one that is too exciting, moves on to another that is too funny, to a third that is too scary. Salsa decides there is nothing for it other than to tell her mother the type of story that would be ideal, in so doing… she begins… to feel… a little sleepy… The ability to find rest and relaxation was within her all along. A sensitive and touching picture book where story and illustration move towards peaceable slumber.

“This was the sound of death. The door hand began to turn, there was another snort of breath, then – A gunshot, followed by someone yelling, then more gunshots.”

Fear of uncertainty and of the unknown with the ultimate culmination of these being death, is the driving force that powers all horror. Psychological horror, however, takes this one step further examining the means and manners via which we are able to exert control over our lives and the types of influence and affect that cause their gradual corrosion.

“Hunting Season”, Dean Vincent Carter’s second novel explores and unpicks these ideas through the balancing of juxtaposing ideas. Lack of control arises when experience dictates that these contradictions are no longer capable of equilibrium.

Urban influences are pitted against those of nature, visibility in lightness in marked, stark contrast against the obfuscations of darkness, most significant of all, however, is the interplay between the tamed and the wild as urges and desires are painted against societal control and civilisation.

Set eight years after an accident in Austria that apparently killed both of his parents, Gerontius Moore (named after Elgar’s “The Dream of Gerontius”) is living with his Aunt and Uncle when he becomes unwittingly embroiled with gangland activities in an abandoned theatre. Played out in this theatrical setting, the first part of the drama takes on a post-modern level of self-awareness. This develops in quick-fire succession to endeavours to escape being the ‘hunted’ of the title and for Gerontius, to learn more about the death of his immediate family. A heart-thumpingly gripping read with revelation and surprise at every turn!

“Jacky Daydream”, her latest work epitomises this process by mythologising her own childhood alongside the preoccupations and ideas that have bubbled through the body of her work post-‘Tracy Beaker’. What feels palpably frustrating to readers here is that the obvious capability of Wilson as a writer, her curiosity, intellect and intrigue, all of that potential is neither attained nor even properly attempted. Simmering preoccupations are never given full time to gestate, to develop and grow and thereby to reach the exhilarating climax of a rolling boil. By consequence, Wilson’s output has begun to feel, at best, increasingly formulaic and at worst, unashamedly stale.

With the exception of touchingly considerate and astute passages – notably those recollecting her father’s sensitivity and the manner through which his inability to achieve expression led to manifestations of anger – much of the book is enigmatic choosing to focus on the trivialities of which plastic dolls were favoured on lustful trips to Woolworths, rather than on the emotional grist of grappling with what inspires her as a writer, of what aspects of her own childhood burn bright at the heart of her own fiction.

As an autobiographical work “Jacky Daydream" appears peculiarly one-dimensional, it operates best as a series of reminiscences and on this level is not without appeal. That it chooses to omit reference to any of Jacqueline’s early work is strangely elliptical .

A sad lack of pride or sense of fulfilment in her body of work per-se pervades the book and is entirely disparate to the sparky enthusiasm and intellect with which professionals in the field will have experienced first-hand as Jacqueline articulated her literary tastes, beliefs and considerable enthusiasm during her time as laureate. This together with the quote “I was delighted to discover that children in adult novels were much more characters… with rich inner lives and fears and fancies” leaves readers anxious in the hope that Jacqueline will be afforded and indeed will afford herself as much time and emotional free-reign as is needed to write a book that truly matters to her, which realises the types of inner-life and motivation that modern children's fiction is able to embrace, and in which justifiable pride is able to be taken.

When trying out a raft that he and his father built, Charlie gets struck by lightning. From here-on-in, Charlie’s adventures begin as he befriends a wonderfully inventive Steam Rhinoceros, is attacked by a monstrous giant snake and finally is kidnapped by a gang of gorillas who hold the expectation he might present marital material!

A rip-roaring, page-turning adventure that will leave readers wondering, just what has happened to Charlie, what misfortunes will before him in the next thrilling instalment, just where that instalment might be found and… whether he will ever return home in time for tea! Serialised young adventure of the most imaginative and exciting, but also reassuring type, look out for episodes recounted through the journals of Charlie himself...

Ottoline, daughter to two adventurers, finds that her parents' activities influence her twofold. Firstly she has inherited a sizeable portion of their curiosity and intrigue as to the world that surrounds her in and around the pepperpot shaped P. W. Huffledinck tower. Secondly, sustained absence of her parents constitutes an ideal base from which exploits, mystery and escapades are able to be had in the firmest traditions of children's literature!

Accompanied by the solemn, unbedgrudging constancy of the sombre, but ever-true Mr. Monroe, Ottoline finds herself embroiled in attempts to uncover the strange happenings that are afoot concerning the disappearance of the city’s dogs.

Utilising cunning, guile and the skills and specialties of the various employees who cater to each of her needs during her parents’ absence, Ottoline exposes the plots and ploys of the phantom pooch pilferer whose influence has outstretched across the city.

Opulent in feel and imaginative in focus, this makes a welcome addition to any bookshelf and, like its eponymous protagonist, readers will doubtless find themselves subject to similar collecterly urges! A crisp, clear and affectionate prosaic style belies the immediacy of Riddell’s inspiring illustrations – reproduced here in a striking red and black two-tone print that harkens back to the earlier reprographic production of children’s comics.

Exceptionally high production values, a format that is ideal for small hands and a loving attention to detail give a solid backbone that bodes well for the future of the series. Secrets, surprises, style and sophistication make this a superbly special story of sleuthing… a standing ovation for the astounding Ottoline!

“If ever a kid could look after himself, here he was. Stanley could box like a champ. A proper little jack-rabbit he was, and like all true champs he had the heart of a lion along with that mane of stringy blond hair.”

With its nuances of shadow and uncertainty, darkness pervades throughout Chris Mould’s new book, “The Wooden Mile”. The first in a series, ‘Something Wickedly Weird’, featuring the unlikely hero Stanley Buggles, these books mark Mould’s first full length fictional offerings.

Following the death of Admiral Bartholomew Swift, Stanley inherits the Estate of Candlestick Hall on Crampton Rock. A peopled by a peculiar populace, Crampton Rock is cut off from the mainland by a mile long jetty that is only traversable at low tide, meaning the community harbours more than its share of dark secrets...

Bringing together a brigand of pirates, a prophetic pike, a lycanthrope in the guise of a sweet-shop owner in addition to a hoard of treasure, “The Wooden Mile” is a faster-than-light, highly paced exciting story for newly independent readers.

Illustrations are carefully interwoven and add a brilliant visualisation to the sense of shady, brooding menace… As much weirdly wicked as wickedly weird! With its discernable rhythm and pace, here is a story that rises above mere words, it is a symphony of shadows – music for the mysteriously minded, a masterpiece in miniature!

“You shot a man at point-blank range. That took guts. Most people would have chickened out, but not you.”

Jack Jennings’ father has debts that are crippling both him and his family. Driven by desperation towards loan shark, Tony Mullen, his father suffers an error of judgement when he gambles this borrowed money unsuccessfully.

Answer to the families financial problems seems to come through the door when a card for ‘Trouble Fix Ltd’ is posted through the door. Jack takes the decision to contact the company, who inform him that his father’s debts and problems might be solved if Jack is able to take on the problems of another client by ‘killing their problem dead’, in return for which that client will reciprocate by eliminating Jack’s problem.

A lithe twist in the tale forces readers to reassess Jack’s actions, the measure of desperation he has felt and the moral rectitude of his choice as it becomes apparent that Jack has been a pawn in a much larger game. A chilling portrayal of behaviour driven by extremity.

Mary Arrigan, author of “Hard Luck” describes the poignant memory of a school visit to the theatre and meeting a homeless boy outside prior to and following the performance… This becomes the base for “Hard Luck”.

Constant spats and feuding with his mother’s new partner, Bill means that tensions have risen high for Matthew at home. As the situation worsens, Matthew makes the decision to leave home and to take to the streets. A chance encounter with one of his teaches at the supermarket leads to his being given a blanket and it is this that forms the centre-point of the story.

Outside the protected environs of his home, Matthew suffers at the hands of bullies and thieves, but contrary to this, also experiences kindness and support from Gentleman Jeremy who befriends him. Resolution is eventually found as Matthew’s school teacher recognises not only the blanket she had given to Matthew but, in a surprise ending, also Gentleman Jeremy’s true identity which comes as something of a revelation!

Strong depictions of the emotional and physical space a home provides in formative years make this a notable gritty and contemporary tale.

“All the other parents were just looking around without any fuss. Only two were making a right show of themselves – mine.”

Ruby, affectionately known as Tiddles to her parents is mortified when they attend the school open day. Loud voices, flamboyant clothing and embarrassing anecdotes from childhood combine to make this a cringe-worthy visit.

Following the open day, Ruby, Grace and Callum decide to hold their own competition, the ‘Ouch Factor’ to decide the most embarrassing set of parents. Scoring is one point for clothing too young for said parent, two points for assuming youth parlance, three for discussing schoolwork with friends, four for a public reprimand, five for public singing and six for a big hug or kiss, anywhere or anytime!

With the parameters firmly established, the competition begins but its outcome surprises the friends, who come to realise the value of parents as the people that they are regardless of whatever perceived freakeries and foibles they might have… Compromise is reached in a way that shows understanding, but that does not belittle children’s feeling and often self-conscious outlooks.

Characteristically, profundity of Pete Johnson's social comment is made accessible via his grasp of the palliative qualities of the comic.

“It struck me that true evil probably lurked in only a few men but its effect was felt across borders, continents even.”

Opening with full force as brothers Marek and Olaf shoot a deer, the remainder of this notable book by debut novelist Craig Simpson packs a similarly powerful punch. Marek and Olaf’s late childhood is lived out in Nazi occupied Norway. Seeking vengeance against their father’s arrest for conspiring with the Norwegian Resistance, the brothers arrange and execute the assassination of the Nazi, Wold. After killing him, they discover there had been a passenger in the car who witnessed the act.

In a desperate attempt to escape the ramifications of their subversion of occupied rule, the boys flee to the hostile environs of the Hardanger where survival itself is a ordeal. There Resistance workers save the boys who find themselves caught in endeavours to liberate their country from its oppressors.

Simpson successfully mirrors the bleak reality of Fascist rule against the cold and barren landscape of the Hardanger. Careful research and historical accuracy into the method and means of the resistance workers lends a quite literally real sense of urgency and imperative to this gripping and hard-hitting thriller that, in speaking of the past gives chilling warning for the future...

“When she came to write her story, she would wonder exactly when the books and the words started not just to mean something, but everything.”

Opening with the cruel death of Liesel Meminger’s brother on the epoch of a new life as the two children were to be fostered to the Hubermanns, the book is set in Nazi Germany and examines the extremes of human behaviour, from absolute intolerance and hatred to the benevolence of generosity and love against the harshest, most repressive of political and social regimes.

Paranoia regarding the seditious nature of literature gives ready emphasis to the act and the art of reading both in a metafictional sense, as Liesel encounters a variety of personal, political and polemical writings and recordings, and for the reader of Zusak’s book, who piece together the overall picture.

Though fragmented in terms of the narrative – for the most part split between Liesel’s story and Death’s aching attempts to comprehend the nature of a humanity that he is fearful of, but that necessarily delineates his own role and purpose – indelible images are burnt upon mind and memory.

Death’s narration bleeds a beauty and tenderness into the novel, but also an incredibly intense pain. Yearning for comprehension in amongst atrocities that are incomprehensible, the novel is lastingly affecting and inspires depths of compassion.

“As the eye mirrors the soul, the sky quite often reflects the health of the reality. It certainly does here. This is a ‘fast’ reality, evolving many times more rapidly than most. It would take several millennia for a standard reality to age as much as this one has in seven years.”

Hurrah for Micahel Lawrence! Reading ‘The Aldous Lexicon’ has been the literary equivalent of sinking one’s teeth into a juicy orange on the most parched of days and finding oneself overwhelmed by the complex flavours of sweet and piquant that simultaneously stimulate the tastebuds…

Strength and quality of writing delivered throughout this trilogy has been consistently high as too have the heady injections of musings on philosophy and personal history that make these books so far-reaching and exceptional.

Picking up the intrigue and creative space inhabited by his first novel, “When Snow Falls" (Andersen Press, 1995), ‘The Aldous Lexicon’ is a rich, vibrant novel pieced together from the multiplicity of lives we each of us lead. The series lures readers into its ideas-base before guttering into manifest worlds, time-lines and portrayals of identity and self.

The first book, “A Crack in the Line” introduces the cast and promotes the idea of an alternative reality by positing the question, what would happen if the capricious chance leading to the occurrence of a seminal event in one’s life was altered… In it, dual protagonists Alaric and Naia are brought into uneasy alignment as the realisation dawns that they inhabit the same familial space in their respective worlds.

“Small Eternities” the second book takes place four months following the events of the first. Alaric and Naia have switched places. With flood waters high they become caught in a timeslip to 1945 where they witness the premature death of their great uncle, Aldous Underwood and realise the background and impact of this point in their shared history.

In this, the third novel, “The Underwood See”, the potential for change to character, setting and history is fully unleashed. The butterfly wings of caprice that have beaten in previous novels now mean the winds of change blow with an invigorating hurricane force through this impressive third novel.

The book is necessarily discursive, tracking different reality strands and the characters that have formed within these. Lawrence outlines some of the mechanics of these alternate realities and goes on to explore the impact and attempted rationalisation of these phenomenon.

As a whole, the series is demanding and challenging, but readers are amply rewarded with a legacy of expanding conceptual understanding and awareness. It is refreshing to read a series that operates wholly between its constituent parts, devoting little space towards constraining recapitulation. The books are taut, wholly engaging and, when read together move with an exhilarating, almost break-neck pace.

At once incisive and insightful, this criminally under-rated sequence represents some the strongest and most influential contributions to teenage fiction in recent years.

Books of instruction have played a seminal role in the history and development of children’s literature. Arguably, children’s literature has never – and perhaps can never – fully escape its didactic and pedagogical base. Aesop’s fables have been amongst the most enduring of fiction for children since first publication in English translation by William Caxton in 1484.

Terry Deary brings both ardour and aptitude to his new series, published by A & C Black, “Greek Tales”. Opening with morals gleaned from Aesop, the books utilise new stories to expand upon and make modern the premise of these fables.

Opening with contextual information, the book tells how Heracles won a race at Olympia, proving himself to be the strongest, fastest hero the world has ever known. Remembrance of this achievement is held through the Olympic Games.

Using the fable of the tortoise and the hare as its ideas base, Deary creates a modern fable that will resonate with many disillusioned siblings as Cypselis uses his sister as a wager on a bet that he will beat Bacchiad in the school Olympics. The trouble is, Ellie knows her brother is not a strong winner… How can they secure her safety and future?!

Witty and wise, this is a cleverly penned series for first readers that will have readers themselves racing to the finishing line…

Moving through an increasingly outlandish range of abodes, the family spend time living in the forest, in Aunty’s violin and in Uncle’s hat. The real skill of this picture book is the way its characters are depicted with such minute detail through the situations in which they are encountered. There is no dialogue within the book and yet it is hard not to feel an intimate warmth and closeness to them, evidenced by Grandpa, whom when they live in the church yard feels sad every time that they bury somebody.

Exploring change and the means employed for acceptance, this is a reflective and contemplative book that succeeds in taking its readers ‘outside time’ to experience and appreciate the ways our senses act as keys to unlock particular memories and the means via which the places we live in comes to be made home. Soulful pattern and resolve is reached by the end of the novel as ‘now our house has four corners. And out year has four seasons. We moved here four years ago…’

“Anyhow, I must have clipped the edge of the pyramid and it toppled over. The whole thing, thousands of tines of tomatoes. They came crashing down. It was horrible!”

With characteristic good humour and seeming irreverence, Jeremy Strong’s latest novel, “Beware! Killer tomatoes” introduces Jack, a hapless individual whose catalogue of disasters include sitting upon the prongs of a fork – ouch! – swallowing a coin – dangerous! – and, most recently, crashing his bike into a parked car. These mishaps are affectionately termed by his family, Jackcidents.

Belying his most recent Jackcident is the real worry that Jack may unwittingly have killed somebody. His latest stay in hospital, accompanied by the clownish Liam and the surly Kirsty, is characterised throughout by the fear that police will come to arrest him.

The mechanics of observation chugging along beneath this narrative thrust and the comic means of its deliverance lend this – and Strong’s other novels – astute perception. Belying the sorts of question Jack has about the accident in the supermarket, is a character whose sense of self has been eroded by the type of comment made about him through familial influence.

A great warmth and affection arises through the parallels that are made as Jack’s broken leg gradually heals and he learns to walk again, and as his family and friends come to value the contributions he plays in their lives and the unique influence he holds. A subtle, clever book that inspires strength and inner resilience against all of our falls.

The decree, however, is broken one day by a small boy who breaks the law by crying. The boy’s isolation through such actions and the strength of his feelings are emphasised through his being, small-in-scale, centred on a blank white page. Nobody is able to cheer him whether with dance, song or food.

Eventually the King’s Guards catch up with him and remove him to the dungeons where it is prophesised he will be tied up in the dungeons and tickled with feathers. Feather in hand, the King greets the boy with the widest smile he has ever seen and asks the reason for his melancholia. The boy explains how his dog has died, upon which it transpires the king is wearing a mask that hides the saddest, most tear drenched face the boy has ever seen.

The King’s own dog died and to cover his grief he made the decree that happiness should be compulsory. Together the King and the boy are able to share their sorrow and their memories of the two dogs. The King then tears up the special order that makes happiness compulsory and everyone has a good cry, the first they have had in many years.

This is an important book that legitimises and validates all feelings. It’s strength in its evasion of the happy ending, everyone cries, is that – at last – the populace are able to express the truth of their emotions. This is to be greatly applauded at a time when as many as one in thirty-three children and one in eight adolescents suffer depression… perhaps, for many, childhood does not represent the ‘best years of life’ as is often purported and that care needs to be given both to listening and to letting tell if the adage is not to shackle and do injustice...

The book’s combination of photographic representation and verbal description provides a vivid, memorable and entirely unprentious tour of the architecture, culture, heritage, religion and geographical landscape of the country.

Insight into food, housing, music, clothing, the Indus Civilisation and the flora and fauna of Pakistan is all provided within this invaluable first introduction to the country. A welcome means for dispelling some of the racist assumptions and stereotypes that the guise of 'terrorism' or parts of the media's interpretation thereof have given increasing rise towards...

Aunty Bea tries to lure her with the prospects of the singing she will do at school. This is to no avail… Sister Ann tries to tempt her with the promise of cuddly-wuddly toys. This falls on deaf ears… Aunty Mel endeavours to entice her with the prospects of painting. This is futile. Uncle Ben and Gran try to appeal to her through lunchtime and storytimes. This is fruitless…

All ask Beth what she wants to do, upon which she replies she wants to play with friends. When it is explained that Beth’s friends are all at school too, Beth goes and is depicted playing with cuddly-wuddly toys, singing, painting enjoying lunchtime and storytimes. Will she be tempted to return home afterwards, however?

Marie-Louise Fitzpartick carefully introduces young children to what can be expected at school and the types of routine that will be followed in this gentle, affectionate book.

“Just because you can’t hear anything doesn’t mean the air isn’t full of radio and TV and text signals. You have to tune in.”

Being attune to our emotions, to the influences that exert themselves upon us and to beliefs and faith – regardless of empirical evidence – form a key part of the understanding and self-awareness that course through “After the death of Alice Bennett”.

Together with his family, Sam mourns the death of his mother. Desperate to believe in some way that she still remains available to him, Sam gradually convinces himself that the telephone number scrawled in the kitchen is a means for him to contact her. This belief appears to be corroborated after Sam sends a text and a reply is received.

Communications along these lines continue, reaching a head as Sam decides he must travel to Knutsford services to facilitate a reunion between mother and son. Standing alone on the bridge between service areas, watching the traffic beneath him, Sam reaches an epiphany.

The greatest success of “After the death of Alice Bennett” is in the way Rowland Molony intertwines the physical voyage of the trip to Knutsford alongside the magnitude of the emotional journey towards acceptance. That both of these are made in solitude and isolation feels at once realistic and true, though also cripplingly sad. This is a touching, well-documented account of the feelings of loss and uncertainty that accompany all bereavement but that are exacerbated so much more in childhood... It's a beautiful novel and, given its subject matter, is paradoxically life-affirming.

“I didn’t understand why he had to puke out all those words at the time, but now I’m telling you this I think I understand it a tiny, little bit. I think Rumsey just needed to say it so it wouldn’t just be locked up inside his head all the time. I was just the next step up from a smelly old rubbish bin in a school playground.”

Struggling to find a way to make sense of events that seem senseless, the novel opens with incredible pace and drama as ten-year-old Danny relates how he has thrown a brick through Grundy’s window, flattening his stuffed otter.

Through a careful series of revelations, it becomes apparent that some accident has befallen Danny’s twin Finn, leaving the former to host a range of powerful and all-encompassing emotions.

Split into three distinct parts, the first of these constitute two phases of Danny’s bereavement. The final stage, that of ‘Being’, is characterised by Danny’s meeting Nulty, a former art teacher who has endeavours to assuage his own personal grief through painting a massive mural.

Told using stream-of-consciousness, the novel is given structure as sequences of narration are themed around particular topics. Danny tells the story in the first-person, much of it is reflective, looking back on past events.

Tom Kelly’s deft humour prevents the book from becoming encumbered by the bleakness of its topic. Indeed, it is the humour, understanding and verve for life that makes this story soar, challenging readers to think about life and death and the ways in which we are able to find meaning from both.

“Okay, okay. So stick my head in a holly bush. I gave Ellie’s mother my mean look. It was her own fault. She was hogging my end of the sofa.”

Nonchalant Tuffy the cat makes his triumphant third outing in this latest tale by Anne Fine. Tuffy is fast becoming an archetype in children’s literature. In him, Fine has perfectly captured the nuances of cattish behaviour. Just as it is now almost impossible to speak of bear stories, without Pooh or his alliterative counterpart Paddington coming to mind, Tuffy is the forerunner in feline fiction.

Keen to express her creativity, Ellie’s mother experiments with photography, painting and pottery. Tuffy the cat holds little appreciation for any of this art and accidents befall all but one of the pots as Tuffy ‘biffs’ and ‘strokes’ them. Eager to be rid of the monstrous artwork, Ellie’s father tries coaxing Tuffy to smash the final remaining pot, but contrasuggestible as ever, Tuffy evades each attempt as father places a tantalisingly tempting prawn into the pot and smears it in cream. What resolve, if any, could cause Tuffy to smash the pot…?!

As with the two previous books in the “Killer Cat” series, this book is based upon an urban legend. Anne Fine has augmented this with her own inimitable wit and sense of social understanding making this a riotous, rib-tickling read.

“We’re in the midst of wonders”

Taking a trip to Cold Tarn, Charlotte and her friend Pip discover for the first time a regular concrete base. It is whilst exploring this that the narrative splits, torn in half, as Charlie is transported from the present into the 1950s.

The reader becomes caught in a dialectic between these two ages, in the 1950s struggling to understand just what has happened to Charlie and what might allow her return to the future and to witness first-hand the very real anxiety and grief that family and friends suffer during her absence in the present.

Parallel narratives facilitate consideration into the types of social progress that have been attained across the ages, particularly with regard to standard of living and general health. In an age of increasingly prescriptive educational legislation, it is, however, hard not to envy the classroom of the 1950s with no walls, a boundary-less expanse from which children’s education could take small steps or giant leaps regardless of direction.

Robert Swindells plants the seed for a twist in this tale which creates a lasting and highly poignant ending. The strength of friendships, love and care are depicted clearly here and make for a lasting and moving finale.

Drawing on facets of the fantasy, mystery, comedy, action and adventure genres, Philip Caveney’s great skill in his debut children’s novel “Sebastian Darke: Prince of Fools” is bringing together the familiar and the fresh for readers of all tastes, backgrounds and indeed ages.

Son of a jester, Sebastian Darke endeavours to appropriate his father’s occupation and together with his trust buffalope, Max, sets out to seek his fortune. That this aim seems ill-fated is evidenced by Darke’s inability to imbue comedic value to even the most simple of jokes.

Together with the pint-sized Cornelius, Sebastian and Max aid the Princess Karin, thereby becoming ensnared in a web of intrigue and cunning subterfuge. Only through their assistance will Princess Karin be able to ascend to her rightful position as heir to the throne of Keladon, however Brigands abound as obstacles towards this.

“Sebastian Darke: Prince of Fools” is a gripping quest novel that transports readers on a voyage across wide vistas of imaginative lands. Teasing out the elegance and grandeur of epics and energising these with fast-paced modern humour, the novel feels at once wholesome and wicked of wit...

“Keane hates Muslim kids. He hates anyone he thinks is different. He picks on kids with red hair or glasses. Most of all, he picks on kids like me. He calls me a Paki. He says I’m a terrorist. He says I’m like Osama Bin Laden. But I’m no terrorist. I’m twelve! I’m just a normal kid. I like football, computer games and boxing. I just want to be left alone. I want to be a man of peace. I want to be like Muhammad Ali.”

In little over sixty pages, Alan Gibbons has subtly interwoven this story of violence and race-conflict with concepts of restraint, tolerance and peace. This is an exceptional work and one worthy of wholesale praise.

Twelve-year-old Ali is a boxer with a healthy respect and knowledge of his hero Muhammad Ali. His latest fight sees Ali pitted against arch-rival Chris Keane. Keane has tormented Ali in the past. The fight for Ali becomes one not so much only to win, but to assert his beliefs, to overcome initial hatred and ultimately to affirm his value, worth and humanity.

Taut in pace and tempo, the main thrust of the story is suffused throughout by biographical information about Muhammad Ali and his deeply humanist approach to life. The cumulative effect of both strands of the book combine to create a highly inspiring insight into the ways it is possible to escape becoming locked in by hatred, prejudice and intolerance and to utilise these to enhance and enrich our lives and the society within which we are located.

High-jinx and japes can be traced from Mrs Sherwood’s “The History of the Fairchild Family” down through Nesbit’s well-intentioned though oft-misguided Bastable children, Blyton’s “Naughtiest Girl”, Crompton’s “William”, Dorothy Edward’s “Naughty little sister” and the recently televised “Horrid Henry”. This tradition is continued with “Dirty Bertie”.

“Dirty Bertie: Worms” is the first in a series of young fiction titles – ‘Stripes’ – published by Little Tiger Press. Indeed, ‘Dirty Bertie’ himself will be familiar to readers through his appearance in two picture books ‘Dirty Bertie’ and ‘Pooh! Is that you, Bertie?’. In this young fiction book, three tales are presented, ‘Worms’, ‘Manners’ and ‘Rubbish’. The highlight of these is definitely ‘Worms’, wherein Bertie makes a highly unusual fancy-dress appearance at next-door-neighbour Angela’s pink party. In typical irreverent Bertie style, our hero finds if he can’t wriggle out of the party, the best thing is to wriggle into it…

More endearing than a certain child-terror, Henry, these tales feel to be more led by character than by mischievous deeds alone. It is hard not to feel endeared to Bertie who, once more, is brilliantly realised in full-fiendish detail by the talented David Roberts. Fans should also look out for “Dirty Bertie: Fleas” also now available in Little Tiger Press’ distinctive new fiction label.

A selection of over one-hundred of these has been translated by author and linguaphile C. J. Moore. They are made available, illustrated in full-colour throughout, by Floris Books. Incisive, satirical and always insightful, this selection includes such classics as “The Two Mules” one with his load of salt and the other of sponges and is told with lyrical, rhyming, poetic diction.

Perfect tales with bite at their beginnings and the characteristic sting of the moral at their ending, these translations of the fables are fresh, fun and filled with verve and vitality.

The dominance of dinosaurs and their eventual extinction is relayed as too is the evolution of mammals and more latterly, a double-page spread about apes including those with bigger brains!

Fans of Layton’s “Oscar and Arabella” series will be pleased to note that his penchant for the prehistoric include a self-referential mammoth during the ice-age. The development of homes and habitations is depicted and this section is concluded through realisation of the importance of recorded information and discovery in books. The book ends pondering the next phase of the story asserting that readers will have to ‘wait and see’ conversationally adding through a pull-tab that it might take a million years or so…

An undoubted bastion of the form in America is the innovative and accomplished David Wiesner. His latest picture book, ‘Flotsam’ sadly like so many of his picture books unpublished here in the United Kingdom, is a tour-de-force.

Told wholly through the visual narrative of illustration, the book opens with a full page close up of a hermit crab and an eye caught in the act of observation – a meta-narrative against the reader’s own active engagement with this scene.

A double page spread then zooms out to show the boy examining the hermit crab through a magnifying glass. A backdrop of play and of observation provides shifting scales and perspectives as we witness sandcastles, parents reading, a microscope and a pair of binoculars. A storyboard of framed images sequentially narrates the boy as he spots another crab, sets off to collect it, chases it and – finally – is caught off guard by a rogue wave.

Narrative flits to another double page spread showing the waves as they ebb away, leaving the boy saturated looking at the evasive crab and also at an ancient underwater camera that has been washed ashore.

The boy removes the film from the camera and his fervent keenness to have this developed is brilliantly captured by Wiesner through a series of framed images inlaid upon the climactic image of this double page spread depicting the boy’s eye in close-up looking at one of the developed photographs – an image from which we are excluded at this point building a real sense of dramatic tension and intrigue as the reader turns the page.

The photographs provide a snapshot into a rich and varied underwater world, inhabited by clockwork aquatics, schools of fish presided over by wise, old, octopi, puffer fish hot air balloons, turtle tenements, starfish spread eagled and submerge but emerging as islands and atolls. The final photograph depicts a girl holding a photograph of a boy, holding a photograph of an image caught in ocular recursion. Puzzling over this, the boy puzzles over this and scrutinises the photograph more closely using his magnifying glass showing a girl holding a photograph of a boy. Time spans and geographical space are transcended through the representation of these photographic images The boy’s microscope offers even greater opportunity for examination first at ten times magnification, then at twenty-five and through until seventy times magnification when we see a boy on a beach dressed in Victorian attire and shown in sepia tones.

The boy sets up his own photograph using the camera to take a picture of him holding the picture. He then casts the camera back into the ocean whereupon it becomes caught up in the marvels of the marine before finally being washed up upon the shores of a palm lined beach and picked up by a girl...

A magnificent expose of the art of observation and representation, Wiesner has created a masterpiece of reflection and imagination.

Focusing on the experiences, the possessions, the disguises and masks that are erected before us throughout life, “The Marvellous Monster Muddle” outlines the shared commonality of life that forms all of our foundations…

The confined space of a large hardback picture book is hardly conducive for accommodating the sheer scale of many of the beasts included here and Steve Jenkins has adopted the novel approach of depicting to scale parts of the featured creatures, illustrating the eye of a giant squid, the head of an Alaskan brown bear, the egg of an ostrich etc.

The book is appended with information on each of the featured animals providing location, food preference and other areas of interest. An impressive and innovative approach to introducing some of the world’s many inhabitants.

The story opens as George endeavours to sail his boats amidst still conditions. Willow the wind child watches and cups her hands together blowing and setting the boats bobbing and racing along the stream. Keen to feel the wind on her face, Willow sets off on a sprightly sprint with George. Laughing and exhausted, the two of them arrive in an apple orchard whereupon Willow conjures a gust of wind causing the apples to tumble. These are collected by the mysterious Roeship children who give George some of the juiciest fruits. Further downwind the Leafchildren play, turning somersaults in the wind. Entranced by the sounds of two cloud horses, George and Willow ride these bareback across the sky leading George back home to his garden gate, a reference so familiar it leads readers to postulate whether the adventures have largely been of an imagination that transcends external constraints...

Autumn and nature are brilliantly personified in this beautifully detailed work.

As with any reference work whose knowledge-base and scope is so wide, “Pick Me Up” deals, for the most part, with its topics quite cursorily as such the book provides a useful ‘backbone’ to reference collections and a springboard from which it is possible to garner that all-too-rare and real context and understanding to given topics and to leap-frog into more in depth publications and websites as the desire takes.

As with a standard encyclopaedia, the work is structured under disciplinary subject areas – ‘Science, technology and space’, ‘Society, places and beliefs’, “History’, “The natural world’, ‘People who made the world’, ‘Arts, entertainment and media’, ‘You and your body’ and ‘Planet Earth’. This gives options for more standard usage by readers alongside those who wish to meander along ‘learning trails’.

The highly illustrated, magazine-style content, makes the book both easy on the eye and quick to engage with and from which to assimilate knowledge. A wide-reaching and thoughtfully structured development to the often seemingly static reference genre, a picture perhaps of the future?

Thematically arranged under eight headings, ‘Strange World’, ‘Weird and Wonderful’, ‘Breaking Boundaries’, Amazing Animals’, ‘Larger than Life’, Impossible Feats’, ‘Simply Unbelievable’ and ‘The Final Reckoning’, the book provides a perfect antidote for times when life feels humdrum.

Archive features tap into the rich historical vein of Ripley’s meticulous research, in depth features provide interviews and background to a number of participants and interludes showcasing features from amongst Ripley’s 29 museums in 10 different countries relay the type of geographical spread of the phenomenon that ‘Believe it or Not’ has become.

“Believe It or Not! 2007” is one of those rare books that is genuinely so engaging that it can be opened at any page and guaranteed to entertain, to educate and to enrich. There is Jim Mouth, the man with the outrageously outsized mouth – able to fit 157 straws in it at once – Wang Yide, the lick artist from China, Bruce the goldfish who meausres in at an enormous 17.129 inches, Cathie Jung aged 68 who has worn a corset for over 20 years and now sports an incredible 15 inch waist and much, much more…

Our world is often a peculiar one dominated as much by the exceptional as by precedent. There can be few better ways to celebrate this uniqueness and colour than through perusing this astonishing volume.

“‘Poppycock,’ said Miss Fortwell firmly. ‘I believe completely in extraordinary things happening. No doubt about it.’”

As with previous novels, in ‘Lucy Willow’, Sally Gardner makes a powerful and heartfelt assertion as to the roles individuality, belief and responsiveness to one another and our environment play in establishing a conducive cultural climate.

Eponymous Lucy Willow is a girl who, together with her pet snail Ernest, lives an extraordinary life. Their abode consists of three railways carriages and their lifestyle is idyllic, if not somewhat non-conformist! Privatisation of the stretch of railway on which they live, however, threatens the Willow family’s lifestyle forcing Mr Willow to take a job at the local, fairly dilapidated garden centre, Peppercorns.

Whilst in employ at the centre, the fairy-tale fire that burns at the heart of this novel, really takes hold… Wronged out of their familial inheritance, the Peppercorns, lost one of their garden centres to the opportunistic Sparks family

“Facts are everywhere – the only way not to find them would be to walk around with your eyes and ears shut.”

Opening with the cataclysmic change for brothers Joshua and Jamie as newborn step-sister Jennie is brought into the world, “Cat Call” expertly contrasts knowledge and understanding against fears and doubt. Stepping beyond mere sibling rivalry, childhood neurosis is depicted here with an astute accuracy, but also with compassion and perception.

Overt didacticism is skilfully avoided as through Joshua’s often laconic narration, Newbery carefully negotiates the feelings of brother Jamie, his jealousy of his sister and the manifestation this takes as he becomes horrified by the force and intensity of these internalised feelings.

An impressive depth of knowledge is presented into all things feline – from factual information to mythology. The tectonics of familial relationships and alliances are related with extraordinary power and prowess. The success of “Cat Call” is the genuine credence it affords to insecurity and its lithe ability in so doing to avoid the slightest patronising hue.

Jacqueline Wilson’s story “My Brother Bernadette” takes an astute look at gender stereotyping as the bully-boy of the summer project, Big Dan, picks on sensitive and creative Bernard prompting the group to follow his lead. Rugged determination wins the day, however, as Bernard single-mindedly sets out to learn to sew and through so doing finds a highly creative way to wreak his revenge upon Big Dan.

The clock is on in Anne’s Fine’s “Countdown” which sees Hugo desperate for a pet gerbil. His dad agrees provided Hugo is able to stay alone in his bedroom for seven-hours, the length of time any prospective pet gerbil would be expected to entertain itself within caged walls during Hugo’s absence at school. This compassionate and deft allegory stimulates early moral and ethical consideration.

The third tale, “Snakes and Ladders” plays out the downs of bullying and the ups of heroism and bravery in the school yard! Michael Morpurgo gives an expose that provides insight into the roots and the dynamics of bullying. The victim of Simon McTavish’s snide remarks, Wendy’s home life is disturbed when her granddad is taken into hospital for a hip operation. Concerned as to what to display from her life on the ‘interesting things’ table, Wendy eventually settles on Slinky, her granddad’s pet snake, things quickly – and quite literally – get out of hand…

Each story showcases the works of the three ‘author’ laureates incredibly well. It seems a shame that the opportunity to cohere the stories through this has not been formalised with an introduction providing background to the laureate scheme thus advocating this. This omission feels a little like a missed opportunity and lends an otherwise very strong and inventive collection an air of the arbitrary. With full colour illustrations, and three tales by leading authors, "Three for Tea" will make a heartingly cost-effective introduction to favourite writers for many...

The summer months of June, July and August pass in a reverie watching insects in the long grasses, of hot, hot storms and of summer holidays. Autumn arrives and with it the months of September, October and November bring brambles full of blackberries, pumpkins, twiggy branches and warm, misty breath in frozen air.

The story concludes in December as Kipper prepares for Christmas, making a special present for his friend Tiger, this it transpires is the yearbook with all of the photographs he has taken throughout the course of the book. Special mention must be made of the different palettes Mick Inkpen sensitively utilises to successfully evoke each of the seasons, the blues and white of winters, the fresh greens of spring, the bright colours of summer and the golden browns of Autumn.

Bedraggled and famished, the lamb is rubbed dry, given milk and placed in a box next to the range. The family adopt the lamb and take special care of her to compensate for the absence of her mother. She is played with and cuddled and as she grows in size and strength, so too she grows in confidence following the children of the family everywhere.

Eventually Uan has grown big enough to join the other lambs in the field, where she plays games with them and has fun. She becomes a sheep and one day has a lamb herself, becoming the best mother in the world.

This is a tender, sweet story evoking the love and care that enables children – of whatever species! – to grow and develop, finally being able to utilise the knowledge and experiences of their own childhood experiences responsively.

“By tusk and trunk”

Those who have followed Oscar and Arabella, that indomitable, woolly mammoth duo, in their picture book adventures: “Oscar and Arabella” and “Hot, Hot, Hot” will be delighted to learn that the pair have ascended to school age.

On arrival of a letter from Professor Snout at the Mammoth Academy, the pair are both advised as to the items they will need in readiness for their first school day. Use of the novel form, allows significant character development, Neal Layton includes a facsimile of Oscar’s letter – and later of his school map – both of which have been rather carelessly crumpled and smudged!

Activities take a turn towards the unexpected when Oscar discovers a set of footprints in the snow which, being the inquisitive mammoth that fans of the series will know that he is, he decides to follow...

It transpires the tracks lead to the kitchens where a thief has been stealing oranges. The mystery unravels and Oscar becomes entwined in playing out the role of detective in a furiously paced adventure that sees him do battle against the humans using a rather unwieldy prehistoric skateboard!

Shortly thereafter a stampede for reading begins with each animal and creature having his or her own particular penchant. The giraffes love tall books, the geckos love stick to the wall books, the pandas love Chinese books, the otters love water proof Harry Potter, the llamas love dramas and the hyenas and snakes love joke books.

‘Wild About Books’ succeeds brilliantly in showing the diverse reading tastes that can accompany a love of books, it emphases the importance of discussion, of dialogue and of debate. Reading is not show here as being solitary and isolated, but real culture for reading is depicted. A marvellous achievement and one itself that reads aloud in a group brilliantly well and is a gift for the level of tie-in craft sessions and activities that could so easily be themed around the story.

Lift the flaps and pull-tabs help to actively engage readers in the process of proper, standard, punctuation. This begins with the basics of starting each sentence with a capital letter and ending it with a full stop.

A practical guide to the use of commas is then presented, this is consolidated through showing some of the humorous outcomes that their neglect can cause. Question marks, exclamation marks, semicolons and colons, speech marks, and much more are covered along with the hugely abused apostrophe – a quiz is presented to help clarify the rules of real apostrophe usage.

Kate Petty and Jennie Maizels have managed to make a subject that can often be tediously repetitive and monotonous truly engaging. With the pop-ups and paper engineering, this is a book that both readers and writers will delight in and will doubtless wish to return to.

Ben has a dog, Alice has two snails, but poor Alex is desperate for a dinosaur, showing compassion his grandfather states “A boy wants a dinosaur this much, a boy should have a dinosaur”. So it is that the pair take a trip to the gargantuan glass ‘dino-store’ – a veritable haven for those who desire a dinosaur!

After much agonising over species selection, Alex chooses a Massospondylus, a dinosaur that eats everything. Alex calls her Fred. Fred requires ample food, ample sleep, ample water for her bath and ample walks… shortly after gaining perspective into the cumbersome practicalities of having a dinosaur as a pet, Alex awakes, finding he had only dreamt of having a dinosaur, together with grandfather he decides a rabbit would make a far better suited pet!

“Playtime” explores the forms and means that play takes for different children around the world. Cidinha and friends in Brazil play tug-of’war, Sasha in Russia plays in a hidey-hole carved out of the snow, Timo in Mali plays with toy boats, Shakeel in India plays football, Giorgi in Azerbaijan races go-karts, Gianni in Albania has made a toy helicopter, families in Sudan play with animals modelled from clay Linh in Vietnam plays have made catapults from elastic bands and much more…

The series breaks down barriers of understanding and unfamiliarity by outlining areas of commonality and shared experience. Each double-page spread features a bold photograph of the children playing, a brief explanation of who they are, whereabouts in the world they are based and the times of games and toys they play with. Children themselves are given the opportunity to further elucidate through means of speech bubbles. The close of the book features a map of the world with each place featured clearly indicated through the use of a miniature photograph.

“We were brought up to know our duty. ‘Suffer little children to come unto me,’ the good Lord said. So we are doing his will, and this we shall train you to do as well. A child is born sinful and must be bent to the will of God. That is now our task.”

Taking its title from “The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner”, Michael Morpurgo’s latest novel focuses on an autobiographical account of Arthur Hobhouse, a man who relates his boyhood but who is unable to provide the beginning to these story for his story remains incomplete at the time when he writes.

With little more than a vague memory of a sister called Kitty, Arthur Hobhouse’s voyage from childhood to a period of forced responsibility to secure his development and future begins. He journeys by ship from Liverpool to Australia to begin a new life.

On arrival in Australia, Arthur is taken to the farmstead of Mr Bacon, a religious fanatic whose fervent faith and the unquestioning nature of his own righteousness makes for a prohibitive and highly volatile environment against which Arthur and his friend Marty grow up.

After eventual escape, the boys are saved from severe dehydration and starvation by Aborigines. Touching scenes arise whereby despite language and cultural barriers, the boys befriend the Aboriginal children and are able to play with them.

Through a series of successes and saddening tragedies, readers follow Arthur’s life to adulthood and to eventual death. A shift in perspective sees his daughter, Allie, take up the narrative and indeed the challenge to learn more about her father’s origins in a voyage of great personal and familial discover.

Perhaps Morpurgo’s most powerful writing in the past, and indeed within this book, arises from a justifiable moral anger and outrage at situations that preclude the ‘natural’ development of the child. In a cultural climate that has begun to openly question the effects modern society has upon ‘the child’, exemplified in Sue Palmer’s “Toxic Childhood”, this is a timely and thought provoking novel highlighting the plight of child migration.

“I knew you would not let me down. I knew that one day you would come and help me to grow back into a tall strong tree.”

This highly illustrated work paints human worries and preoccupations as transitory against the span of existence that trees have traversed. Impressive in magnitude, it charts the millions of years that trees have grown, been maligned by ice sheets and fire, but yet have struggled to survive. It maps out the millions of years over which evolution advanced. It arrives at a present day that is at once timeless and enduring.

At the heart of this present day, not far from anywhere yet near somewhere, stands a lone tree. This touching tale tells of the special kinship and closeness that develops between the tree and a boy. The tree sees the good and the utility in all things and from him the boy is able to learn and, at last, to no longer feel lonely.

When the boy and his family are due to move to a new town hundreds of miles away, the boy resolves to visit his friend one final time. Torn into the hillside, however, are deep tyre tracks and when the boy arrives, all that is left of the tree are a few roots and broken branches, the tree has been cut down.

Timescale shifts again within the work and the boy becomes a man and grows older, never able to feel fully at home or at ease. Eventually he journeys back to the site where his friend tree used to live and weeps at the memory of all they had and shared. The tears feed the earth and from it grows a shoot of a tree that grows firm and strong.

Centred around man’s relationship to his environment and the key importance of remaining responsive to this in all of our actions, “The One Tree” is an unusual, highly distinctive, timeless tale. Richard Perrott’s earthy, organic illustrations wonderfully augment the story and the vivid green of new growth adds considerably to the sense of mysticism and magic engendered within nature’s vitality.

Divided into two distinct sections, in the first of these Rai imparts an introduction to politics, explaining its application and constituent parts in the United Kingdom. An overview is given of the major political parties, of political ideologies and the relationship between politics and the media. The second part of the book arose from responses to a questionnaire Rai held with young people whereby he probed whether there were other areas of politics they would like to know about. A succinct outline of the Iraq war, the war on terror, global warming, education, racism, asylum and immigration are provided within this portion of the book.

Written in the demotic, it is hard not to feel at points that the profane use of language will not detract from some of the lucid points being raised here for some readers. Whereas in Rai’s novels this lends credibility to his characters and the situations they are implicated within, here it may serve to marginalise his work from key sectors of the market, most particularly perhaps in more staunchly traditional education settings.

As well as the clear elucidations that he presents, one of the most enviable elements of the book is the way Rai stimulates and challenges further thinking on the part of readers. This is aided through provision of a list of web-sites and books. Rarely have politics been presented so palatably and with less jingoism and jargon.

“I will find a way to take the power I deserve, he thought. Even if it means I have to work in the dark.”

Tegen, child of Clesek and Nessa, is born beneath the stars, brought into this world by Gilda, but the possibility of her being the Star Dancer is rejected by and is abhorrent to Witton, chief druid, and his followers who cannot except the role who might be executed to a woman. Preferring to believe themselves to have been forgotten and left without salvation rather than to accept the truth, fear and apprehension predominate within their society.

On discovery of her ability to dance, Tegen begins to realise and to practice her powers. So it is that when Witton falls ill and his death seems inevitable, Tegen is able to nurse him back to health.

The sonorous nature of Webb’s prose together with the complex and convoluted relationships she intertwines between persons in the novel makes for an at once rewarding and absorbing read. Skilful craftsmanship imbues the natural with an energising electro-static charge… here is a book with a genuine buzz!

Elevated to monarchical standing, the Emperor of Abusrdia awakes from a most extraordinary dream to be ably assisted in the act of dressing by a wardrobe monster, alas however, it becomes apparent his scarf is missing, a scarf hunt is embarked upon, the fruits of which are the finding of his snuggly scarf in the nest of the pointy bird.

During lunch, the Emperor’s egg hatches into a dragon that flies off. Ensnared within the excitement, the Emperor now embarks upon a dragon hunt. After riding his trusty tricycle through the flower beds, the umbrella trees, the pillow hills and over the bouncy mountains, the Emperor is on the verge of giving up when he spots a series of footprints leading to a deep dark cave, the contents of which lead to an Emperor hunt!

There is a wonderful sense of absurd symmetry as the Emperor is chased back across the bouncy mountains, through the pillow hills, under the umbrella trees and towards the flower beds. Saved by the pointy bird who captures the Emperor’s snuggly scarf in his beak, the Emperor makes a bid for freedom, tumbling through air into the arms of the Wardrobe monster. Deciding to look for his scarf again tomorrow, the Emperor goes to sleep and has the most extraordinary dream bringing the tale neatly to its conclusion but also back to its beginning.

Much pleasure is to be had looking at the bedroom and determining those objects which branch off into the surreal to form the dreamlike land of Absurdia. Observant readers will discern the details of the endpapers as they spring from the apparently sombre and sobre to the delightfully lively and diverse. From beginning to end - and back again! - this is a picture book that will enthrall, enrapture and enrich with its enchanting depiction of the imaginative worlds of early childhood.

If you want to avoid the perils of luncheoning on head-cheese, ensure you’re not subject to the vomit-inducing Scottish cure for worms or circumvent a trip on a ‘violet cart’ “The Yuk Factor” is essential reading.

Impress your friends with your wide, varied and frankly disgusting diction with key terms such as entomophagy, micturation and oncychophagia. With four hundred questions covering all you could ever hope to know – and a great deal you really would rather not – about the gruesome, the grim, the grotesque and the grisly, “The Yuk Factor” is guaranteed to inject bilious brilliance to any quiz. Though indigestible, this informative book will make an indelible mark upon mind and memory... Doubtless most would be diabolically delighted to find it lurking at the bottom of their Christmas stockings!

Without question one of the foremost talents in contemporary children’s literature, the collection of memories and reflections that have been sensitively collated and assembled to form “The Making of Me” offer unique insight, awareness and allow greater understanding of the formative years of writer Robert Westall offering a rare glimpse at the root of many of the concerns and preoccupations rooted throughout his body of writing.

A remarkable book, in equal parts because of its method of conception and its content, the musings and memories collected here make for a remarkable legacy. Upon Westall’s premature death in 1993, his literary agent Laura Cecil and partner Lindy McKinnel discovered several autobiographical pieces amongst his papers. Placed in chronological order alongside previously published autobiographical stories, the collection provides the closest equivalent to an autobiography for Robert Westall and offers a fascinating and rare insight into the author’s childhood and the ongoing influences this exerted over his writing.

This a book to be relished by aficionados of one of the most extraordinarily diverse, prolific yet consistently assured children’s authors of the past century, it is a book to be valued by scholars and an invaluable resource that needs to be read by all with an interest in the field and development of children’s literature.

An inspiring and life-affirming work, it has stimulated a new desire to re-read a number of Robert Westall’s novels again, an opportunity in itself aided by publisher Catnip who have simultaneously made a new edition of Westall's supernatural thriller, “The Wind’s Eye” available.

“I could recognise the places on these walls: a map of the British Isles, another of the Middle East, the countours of Australia. How could I remember that? Had I travelled to these places? Where had I learned about them? But nothing came. No matter how hard I concentrated, nothing came. Not even the sliver of a memory.”

Urban, gritty and urgent in pace and tension, Catherine MacPhail’s first novel in her new ‘Nemesis’ series, “Into the Shadows” asks as many questions as it answers, it cranks up levels of uncertainty, danger and desperation cleverly interspering the power that knowledge brings with the powerlessness that accompanies ignorance in whichever of its many forms...

Discovered in a lift with the victim of a murderous assault, things look bleak for Ram, who is unsure as to his identity, his past and, what with his current predicament of what his future might hold… Unsure what to believe about himself, Ram becomes wanted as a suspect in the murder investigation, with a man purporting to be his father attempting to make contact and the murder victim’s true killers planning a deadly assassination attempt against him, the chase is on and the clock is ticking.

The net tightens around Ram in a manner that is excrutiatingly exciting. Much of the action takes place at nights upon the streets of Glasgow. This places bold, brilliant adventures against a black backdrop that makes a stunning visual impact upon the imagination. Heart-thumpingly paced adventure strands are skilfully interwoven with the tectonics of shifting self perception and self identity.

Catherine MacPhail has crafted that rare thing, a gripping and urgent thriller with staggering depth, motivation and characterisation. Many questions are left wholly or else part unanswered in readiness for the second novel in the “Nemesis” series, which will be eagerly awaited…

Told in a frame-setting reminiscent of Chaucer’s “The Book of the Tales of Caunterbury”, the reader assumes the role of a stranger, lost amidst travels, aided by a black-clad figure who will tell tales to pass time along the voyage...

A decalog of ten deadly, dark ghost stories, in this volume Chris Mould has collected and retold ready for modern audiences, five tales of haunted happenings including Washington Irving’s “The Legend of Sleep Hollow” and Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart”, interspersed between these stories, readers are, at last, treated to five of Chris’ own chilling tales. Proving himself adeptly equal to the challenge of the chilling, readers find themselves gripped in the hands of suspense and uncertainty, unsure whether its vice-like clamp will be released or whether it will close in, ever tighter, until we are crushed to the constituents of dust and bones…

Exceptionally high production values, an astounding level of attention to detail and a beautiful lovingly packaged gift box including ghastly stickers and a gruesome skeleton to hang, make this a spook-tacularly special gift set to give to ghouls and boys aike...

Chris Mould extends the influence of his self-branded ‘consumer friendly, politically correct, grotesque’ and of things that fester and are feared in this marvellous anthology by the master of the macabre. A perfect book to read during long, cold, dark evenings…

This comfortable idyll, however, is shattered when the King’s Chef relays his need for an animal with very strong legs to help celebrate the King’s birthday. Competitive Frog is desperate to meet the King and it is agreed that a race should be held to discern the fastest runner. Subtle, analogous reference to Feudalism, power and class struggle, form the base to this competition.

In the course of the race, Snail remembers the friendship the two share and, conscious of Frog’s eagerness to meet the King, slows down allowing Frog to win. The King’s Chef escorts Frog to the palace, though Harvey describes with euphemistic abstraction how despite this visit, he never actually got to meet the King…

A heartbroken Snail resolves to wear his running hat on his back and hide his legs inside it by day. Early in the morning, however, one might just see a tiny trail left by the fastest snails as their feet polish the floor on moonlight runs.

On the first day of Autumn Raffi awakes early to play but is distressed to see no leaves, only an ethereal, silver mist. On closer inspection he finds the leaves are still there, a single gold one drops and twirls away into the midst of the mists. Raffi chases this believing it to be a gift from Old Father Oak, but more and more begin to fall, causing Raffi concerns as to Old Father Oak’s well-being. Is he cold, or is he crying?

Raffi’s mother explains the leaves falling signals that Autumn has arrived and that winter will soon be coming. The holistic nature of the seasons for the animals is presented as leaves provide a blanket for sleep, nature’s bounty provides a feast to fatten ready for the winter sleep, acorns are hidden beneath the ground and Old Father Oak himself provides sanctuary from the snows and chills of winter, a place where the racoons are able to sleep. The racoons awake as the first tingle of spring, with all its vivid awakenings, stings through the air.

Movement and motion is beautifully realised through Mei Matsuoka’s distinctive, vivid illustrations. Old Father Oak presents as a paternalistic protector as a provider and godhead illustrated with emphatic, far-reaching scale and scope.

“It was a mass of shiny, brownish-yellowish-greenish substance,a bout the size of a coffee table. It was quivering slightly, like jelly on a palte – and it was moving slowly towards him.”

A sneeze, and the substance thereof, starts the fourth story featuring the hapless Measle Stubbs. The bones of this story are set some eight-hundred years ago when a precocious young wizard, Sheepshank, whilst endeavouring to bring a dead spider back to life, sneezed, and inadvertently created a ravenous monster from his mucous.

Having been safely secured in the dungeons of the Wizards’ Guild building, the creature makes an unfortunate bid for freedom and sets off on a sticky rampage. Hungry for humans, and having devoured most of Measle's entourage of enemies and assimilated their desires and aspirations, most especiall for Measle, will our hero escape the beast's gluttonous clutches?

Measle's fourth outing is a characteristically, disgustingly addictive adventure told with pace and panache by Ian Ogilvy. As ever a more perfect choice of illustrator than Chris Mould could not be found for this series, his sublimely subversive illustrations breathe life, atmopshere and infinite expression to the array of situations and character studies.

Events reach a head when Miss Fox leads the class on an expedition to a high cliff-top, whipping a napkin from her handbag she asks who wants to be eaten first. Unexercised, tired and with tardy minds the class are oblivious to the gravity of their situation and giggle Assertive as ever, Lily Lamb offers herself up, mindful of the fact she will be no sacrificial lamb to the slaughter led… Drawing on resources of cunning, guile (and a good hearty shove!), Lily is able to escape the peril of Miss Fox.

This deliciously dark tale, illustrated throughout with a warmth and good humour by Holly Swain, has a serious warning at its heart, it cautions against those we entrust with the education and welfare of our children. A more disturbing and brooding interpretation is possible when the desires of those who are entreated with the safety and well-being of children are recounted as dangerously as here…

Boundaries are established, yet at once are constantly being transgressed in Blathwayt’s incomparable illustrations. This allows a world of possibilities to be presented. Natural and human influences exerted upon the landscape Blathwayt portrays are shown as being at once in flux and in symbiotic harmony. Industrial and urban landscapes rocket into the rural and motifs make repeated self-reference to Blathwayt’s earlier works….

Fans and followers will discern and unravel from the panoramic pictures echoes of the blue tractor, of Tig and Tag, of Kip, Bella, Pebble and Bramble all of which combine with symphonic magnitude to a most beautifully orchestrated, highly inspiring visual masterpiece that through careful perusal cannot fail to inspire a love of life, to engender a liking for lighting and that together instil a lasting sense of liberation.

‘Young Dracula’ focuses on Wilfrid, son and heir to the infamous count himself. The story follows a ‘Prince and the Pauper’ styled mishap drawing question to the importance of child-rearing and nurture against genetic inheritance in a book that extends the Vampiric legends of Transylvania.

Expanding the above ideas of child-rearing and nurture to include formal education, ‘Young Monsters’ sees Lon packed off by his father to Dr Ffelix Ffurter’s School for Young Monsters. Lon’s unease about the institution is increased initially by the head, who quite literally is a disembodied head, and once again by the attempted application of a bolt through his neck! After successfully preventing this, Lon is befriended by another boltless pupil, Omar, together the two of them struggle to escape the notice of the pupils and teachers at Dr Ffelix Ffurter’s but for how long will they succeed and what other surprises lie in store when the school Spectre visits…?!

Characters and situations are depicted in dastardly detail by Chris Mould whose art always revels in the revolting with assured resplendence! Collaboration between Lawrence's anarchic stories and Mould's subversive illustrations guarantees readers fiendish fun!

As an act of vengeance, Nefret herself sets the boys a dare, to visit the place of purification to go to Seneb’s tent and to bring back a charm of the dead. Whilst so doing, Kenefer comes across what appears to be a three legged mummy and is caught by Seneb, the austere embalmer… Through a surprising and enlightening twist, Kenefer is able to make Seneb laugh and therefore is able to attain the charm of the dead he sough.

An addition to Barrington Stoke’s “FYI” series, “The Three Legged Mummy” provides insight and understanding about the culture, and sociology of Ancient Egypt. An invaluable aid to all with an interest in Ancient Egypt, particularly those studying the subject under the Key Stage Two National Curriculum.

Worthy of particular mention is “Goodbye Joyce” where the escape of the class guinea-pig is sensitively and, in parts, hilariously juxtaposed with the decease of much loved dinnerlady Joyce. The story succeeds in embracing life – and freedom! – whilst at once grieving absence and loss.

Malapropisms and mishaps abound in these genuine, laugh-out-loud, short stories set in the modern multicultural classroom. Let’s hope another school outing is allowed for the irrepressible Purple Class!

Arthur’s malaise is aided at midnight by the appearance of Story Cat, an intrepid feline with a feel for what works best in books and in stories. Conversation between Story Cat and Arthur outline the key factors in crafting a story; the plot, settings, suspense, characterisation whilst simultaneously applying these to the meta-narrative of Arthur’s own story.

This book is a powerful force against the paralysis blank pages can induce upon creativity. The story brilliantly architects the creative process that Julia Jarman here makes available to young readers and potential young writers... In all senses, an empowering book.

Underpinning early works such as “The Suitcase Kid” and “Double Act” are subtle, well-observed situations and social interaction. In books such as “The Lottie Project” a careful symmetry is constructed between child lives in the contemporary and Victorian ages. By comparison, more recent works, “Love Lessons” and “Candy Floss” have felt lacking in the types of astute vision that previously belied Wilson’s crisp, easy prose. In these latter books, the dynamism of storytelling feels to have been submerged by the ‘issues’ presented.

A return to Wilson’s self-professed favourite character – a certain Tracy Beaker – seemed an opportunity to return to novels led by punchy storylines and feisty, strong characters. Sadly, the promise of this is not entirely fulfilled.

The indomitable Tracy Beaker is cast by art and drama teacher Miss Simpkins as the lead, Ebenezer Scrooge, in the school production of “A Christmas Carol”. Preparation for the play alongside schoolyard squabbles, Christmas shopping and the eventual performance of the production make for a pedestrian and fairly cynical-in-feel Christmas tie-in. Credibility is stretched to belief and beyond when Cam, Tracy’s potential future foster mother, proceeds to facilitate the girl’s intoxication using a bizarre concoction of red wine, honey, dandelion leaves, cinnamon, sugar and stale ginger biscuits.

More positively, considered reflection is given to dependencies and expectations in child-mother and mother-child relationships. This occurs most revealingly and indeed touchingly when Cam relays an encounter with her mother following the request that she brings someone along on Christmas day. In typical Jacqueline Wilson style this is related over a temptingly sumptuous box of chocs.

Ironically, given Wilson’s championing of shared reading during her tenure as Children’s Laureate, the lack of chapters in “Starring Tracy Beaker” allows no natural pauses, making it a difficult and, at points, clumsy book to read aloud. The careful expose on the continuing significance of parental influence holds much promise for a book more subtle and soulful than this. It is hard not to feel disappointed.

“You know what I think? I think it’s stories that keep the whole world together. From Lewis looking for monsters in Edinburgh, to Shahrazad telling stories about magic lamps in Arabia. Everyone loves a good story.”

A school trip around Edinburgh centre careers into a desperate chase through time for siblings Spider and Lizzie. Resolved to play a trick on his sister, Spider slips into a doorway planning to leap out on his unsuspecting sister. Separated from the group as a consequence of this, Lizzie worries the pair might have taken a wrong turn…

A welcome addition to Barrington Stoke’s “FYI: fiction with stacks of facts” series, Catherine Macphail weaves a tight web of spills, thrills and plenty of chills seamlessly interspersing information, detail and local colour about the history of Edinburgh. Readers experience first-hand the sights, smells and sounds of the city as Lizzie and Spider aid Lewis in escaping the clutches of a broken-toothed felon and assist his endeavours to learn more about his mysterious neighbour’s nocturnal endeavours.

Appended to the adventure is a notebook, purportedly by Spider’s hand. Catherine MacPhail’s passion, understanding and lively delivery of details together with the personalised, over-arching epistolary form in which they are written makes for a reading adventure and story-arc that is in equal parts profound and impressive.

Anxious about his mother who is hospitalised awaiting the birth of a new baby, Jamie suffers at the hand new teacher, Mr Barron’s, caustic humour. However, following an dispiriting day in the classroom, Merry (Meredith in full) Christmas appears in the guise of a lollipop lady purporting to help Jamie cross the road whilst at once claiming to be a fairy godmother.

Reluctantly and abashedly, Jamie makes wishes, but Merry becomes the victim of a road-traffic accident when saving Jamie from a similar fate. Unsure what to think or to believe, Jamie confides in best friend Taz, and together the two track down Merry Christmas who now claims to be an alien.

One particularly satisfying episode suggests Meredith has transformed Mr Barron who’s crushing comments have made his pupils feel like worms, into one of the self-same lowly nematodes! Once again Sandra Glover astutely keeps readers guessing, actively engaging them in issues of trust and belief.

“When she thought about it later, Anne thought it must have been because her legs under the duvet made a shape like a landscape with two long hills and a green jungly valley in between.”

Suffering from a frightful case of the mumps, purple cheeked and swollen, Anne Smith is confined to bed. To allay the tedium of the sick-room, Anne begins drawing pictures of a hero, Enna Hittims (Anne Smith spelt backwards with an additional ‘it’ – because Htims is too hard to say!).

The power of Anne’s imagination imbues life and character into the felt-tip drawing of Enna, a fearful, though diminutive warrior, whose magic sword and cavalier attitude places her firmly in the spirit and mould of the Amazonians.

Bed-linen becomes laid out as the landscape upon which Enna Hittim and her associates’ battles and adventuring are played out. Explorations are charted around Ankle Bend, following Fold River and ascending Left Toe Mountain.

Chaos and comic capers abound in Sandra Glover’s latest novel. Life in the countryside seems set for radical change when the Beesley Trings from London, less affectionately known as the Beastly Things, move into the barn that Mark’s dad has converted.

Mad, the mother of the family is a painter of modern art, son Robinson is an aspiring actor who makes his debut appearance shortly prior to striping down and posing in a scanty pair of boxer shorts, the Beesley-Tring father is a collector of bones and skulls and Penny and Benny are the twins whose friendship is bestowed upon unwilling neighbour Mark.

Perception and preconceptions are explored and examined through the course of the novel, with pastoral notions of the countryside juxtaposed with those of modernity and the city. Glover skilfully evades the narrative siding with either set of stereotypes leaving two distinct interpretations to the novel and a satisfying challenge for readers as to whether the Beesley-Trings truly were Beastly Things, or whether Mark’s judgement is entirely to be believed…

“Each time you tell a story, the spirit of the person who told you the story is standing behind you; and behind him there’s the spirit of the person who told him the story. And each time you tell a story, they help you to make pictures in the sky.”

The potency of storytelling, its ability to traverse terrain and to cross cultures blazes strong in ‘Christophe’s Story’, an impressive, deeply thought-provoking and moving short novel whose understanding and compassion bathes readers in hope and belief that regardless of who we might be, whatever our backgrounds or beliefs, all our tomorrows might one day be better and brighter.

Removed from a landscape and populace that has been savaged by war, Christophe’s familiar homelands of Rwanda have been substituted for England. Starting at a new school, Christophe is taunted by one of his new class-mates Jeremy. These playground persecutions offer a glimpse at the dynamics of conflict that in the macrocosm of Rwanda led to Christophe’s family becoming embroiled in the programme of ethnic cleansing that was carried out there.

Accidentally revealed his war-scarred body, Christophe comes to tell his class his story of war-torn Rwanda, the death of his brother Matthieu and the burning of his house. That his class are unaware there has been a war in Rwanda is an indictment of the narrowness of focus and the Anglo-centricity of the classroom.

His storytelling constitutes a process of abreaction for Christophe who through reliving his trauma is able to begin the process of relieving that trauma arriving at resolve. Eager that the wider community should be aware of Christphe’s story, his teacher Miss Finch writes this down, an act of sacrilege for Christophe, who follows his grandfather Babi’s belief that stories begin to die when written down. Angered Christophe tears the story into pieces, however, Babi’s spirit visits him vesting within him the role of storyteller, master of words, lives and light…

Karin Littlewood’s illustrations brilliantly capture the suffering and pain surrounding the war in Rwanda yet successfully sparkle with the innate pleasures and life of childhood. To document such large political ideas, such hatreds and injustice in so short a novel and yet to leave readers awed, heartened and feeling in a real sense more tolerant is an enviable achievement and one which this exceptional book achieves with a real zeal.

“For those who want to believe, no proof is needed. But for those who can’t believe, no evidence is enough.”

The furthest fathoms and deepest depths of the lake at Moutonby are matched by the probing philosophical enquiries as to the roles belief is able to play within modern civilisation. Is all belief now made blind by technological advance and the possibility of scientific verification?

The atmosphere of the novel crackles with a flaring, electrostatic energy that juxtaposes with the harsh unredeeming landscape of Moutonby. Favourable comparison to the celebrated works of Alan Garner is easily justified.

Underpinning village life in Moutonby - a small bleak assemblage of habitations clustered along the banks of the lake - is a dark legend about a beast that lurks in the depths of the water, the Mourn. Modern times have seen the village divided between those who believe in the Mourn – termed the Fearful, their lives being driven and dictated by custom and ritual as they endeavour to assuage the beast’s fury – and those who reject the legend believing it a pseudo-feudal means via which the Milmullen family have been able to dominate the village through false fear and hysteria.

Son and heir, Tim Milmullen, grows up alongside this and is expected to assume the role of the Mourner on his fast-approaching sixteenth birthday. This mantle is one his forefathers have held before him, making ritualistic sacrifices to the Mourn, securing the protection of the villagers through so doing. Tim is unsure as to his belief, a fact brought into rapid relief by his twin sister’s own fervently held beliefs. The questions surrounding the Mourn isolate Tim from his family and from the community who increasingly come to depend on him for their future.

A particular achievement in the novel, alongside the means by which belief is charted against fear of that which is not easily understood and which is seemingly senseless, is the constant challenges that twins Tim and Jenny pose to traditional belief. This emphasises that regardless as to the polar extremes the two’s views take, both are founded on their own level of experience, of thought and consideration of stimuli that their lives have been presented with. These questions and indeed the eventual resolve arrived at is an important facet of their growth and development, one that in a world that is increasingly geared to the materialistic, is oft neglected yet deserving of careful consideration. Even disbelief is a belief that must be arrived upon through experience, if it is a standpoint arrived at responsively...

This is a dense, thoughtful and thought-provoking novel that demands careful reading providing ample reward through its sociological and implicit religious comment as well as its lithe determination to avoid the condemnation of any systems of belief or world views.

The book is a biographical account of book lover and philanthropist, Mary Elizabeth Brown (1920-1991) documenting the life long affinity she felt for books and for reading. Whether depicting the means through which books allow our imaginations to soar, manifested here by pigeons in flight, or the shelter and shade the interior world of books are able to provide, David Small’s illustrations brilliantly capture the highly personal dynamic opportunities for thought and reflection that books provide without diminishing its meaning.

Framed pictures and the rapid encroachment of books outside the parameters of each frame emphasise the extent of Elizabeth’s collection enabling an understanding of how sizeable an endowment this was eventually to be for the town. Reading is a gift and libraries, offering access points to almost every book ever published, are in a unique position to keep on giving endlessly A powerful reminder as to the remarkable community and cultural resources libraries are.

“Dreams often disappear from me if I don’t talk about them first thing in the morning. Sometimes it’s as if they never even existed.”

Personal voyages, the importance attributed to homelands that are able to be returned to and the strength of family ties bind and intersect this Spartan, yet delicately beautiful tale by Finnish author Riitta Jalonen, one of the latest continental offerings made available in the United Kingdom by WindedChariot Press.

More a full-colour, highly illustrated novella than a traditional picture book, the opening sees mother and daughter on a journey . The daughter’s enthusiasm and interest in words and in naming things provides insight into an imaginative world that that the narrative and pictures here present only a glimpse of and that readers’ imagination brings to the fore.

The couple's journey aims to take Tundra Mouse, a flowering plant more commonly called ‘Alpine mouse-ear’ that mother collected years previously, back to the Arctic. The voyage is built up of a series of moments each one vivid in the way it sensuality, making this a memorable voyage and books. The pair pass amongst Lapland birches, pinic by the river Teno, cllect waters from the oceans and stones from the beach. A real sense of holisticity between man and environment is presented.

That the daughter has collected so many mementoes of her trip leaves one wondering whether with time’s passing another voyage into personal pasts might be made with a child of tomorrow, this book allows that and is itself a soulful treasure…

The reality of Ben’s absence, however, makes Sam appreciate the fun and the frolics, the games and the guffaws the pair have shared together. To alleviate Sam’s pinings, his mother suggests he writes a postcard articulating his feelings to his brother.

Sam eagerly anticipates the return of his brother and on his homecoming, Ben whispers to him how he missed him too. Contrary to the misguided notion that boys are all rough and rigour, with two brothers at its heart, this book legitimises male emotion and indeed the importance of communicating these.

When Frank the goldfish dies, dad shows an almost sardonic lack of restraint in his response; “Never mind, son”. Mum is more considerate towards the loss suggesting a special cheer-up treat thereby setting in motion a trip to the zoo – a trip that is accompanied by a tirade on camels, elephants, giraffes, seals, penguins and rhinos by dad!

The visit to the zoo, however, is forestalled as two African elephants have pushed down the walls meaning all the animals have escaped. Concerned for the welfare of his home, dad drives the family home to find a delivery of domed dung deposited upon the doorstep.

Whilst our hero takes a bath, a tremendous paw crashes through the bathroom ceiling. Dad rises to the occasion, tapping it with the toilet brush. Endeavouring to remove the bear from the roof, the gutter, the bear, the ladder and dad all tumble. Fortunately nothing makes for a softer landing than the arms of the bear. Dad’s opinion of animals is altered slightly as he comes to appreciate the bear but readers are left to anticipate what happens next as they lift the flap to gain access to just what is concealed within the family refrigerator!

The divide between childlike rapture with animals as shared inhabitants of the world and adult disillusionment and focus on responsibility creates the tension that drives this story and which is depicted here by Natalie Chivers' engaging collaged illustrations which perfectly compliment to the text.

Readers are made privy to a series of discursive vignettes that constitute the life of Justin. This is achieved in an assured and lively manner. The imagination and eccentricity of Justin make him an immensely agreeable if not at times a worryingly breakable individual whose fears, feelings and frighteningly fatalistic outlook on life isolate him from the society that orbits around him.

Justin’s personality is one of extremes, the love he harbours for Agnes who becomes ensnared by Justin’s vitality and his web-like neediness, fast becomes all-consuming leaving him incomplete amidst a mire of uncertainty. The gradual corrosion of the influences of logic, reason and rationale in lesser hands could become dirge-like and dull, that the prose here is iridescent, teeming with differing philosophies of perspective and perspective, makes for a strikingly life-affirming read that is not easily forgotten.

“…it was too late. The book had invitingly opened itself up to me and snapped closed around my outstretched hand, biting me with its poisonous paper teeth. The last thing I saw before I passed out was the book’s mysterious title…”

A multitude of threads taking the form of action photographs, illustrations of manifold monsters and extracts from the Monstranomicon, interweave to make the fabric of this fable. Minerva McFearless, the eleven-year-old daughter of a monsterminator, narrates the adventure. Her relationship with brother Max, who plays an integral role in the action and adventure of this novel, is fraught with sibling rivalry a shard of realism that helps allow the suspension of disbelief and that secures the riotous pace in thisnarrative.

On seeing a red moth, the intrepid McFearless duo discover a secret passageway in their house, leading them to their father’s study and to the revelation that he is in fact a monsterminator, one who exorcises monsters of all sizes, types, and veracity. It is in the study that the pair first encounter, the Monstranomicon, a living book, a bestiary of sorts with the added bonus of detailing recipes and methodologies for the slaying or repelling of creatures. Following the kidnapping of their father, Max and Minerva set upon a quest to release him.

The book has a cinematic quality and photographs are reminiscent of early silent films, richly resplendent in exaggerated facial expressions and extreme emotions! The graphic nature of the book, together with short chapters, punctuated throughout by excerpts from the Monstranomicon make this an excellent choice for those who are perhaps less confident readers. The claim of pedestrainism in the language that could be levied against Zappa's book is an observation made neither entirely with or without criticism. It is this that facilitates the novel's pick-me-up-and-read-me appeal, but lends it at times a non-distinct feel. The strong cliff-hanger ending leaves one with a monster appetite, wanting to know what happens next, with a sequel forthcoming it is hoped this might soon be sated!

“I don’t hate you. What are you? Fathers, mothers, two children on holiday. No, I don’t hate you. I hate what you stand for. Not tourism. I am proud of my country. I want to share it with others. Our people share their history and their pain and their struggle. We are used to sharing. No, I hate the dollars economy you bring, which makes our pesos, our once proud pesos – now defaced with Quitano’s ugly face all over them – almost worthless.”

Martin, his mother and father are holidaying on Santa Clara an island whose intrinsic beauty and resources have been exploited and where political insurgence is now rife following the development of nickel mining that ravages the country’s natural resources and its people.

In a desperate and dramatic attempt to highlight the plight of the islanders, El Taino, Rafael and Eduardo capture Martin and his family together with French tourist,s Louise and her family, intending to make a plea for a national enquiry to be made into the nickel mine that brings the scourge upon their country.

The story is complex and web-like, whilst it is told primarily from the dual viewpoints of Martin’s father’s diary entries and Martin’s own account of the shocking, unnecessary and surprising death of Louise, there is more than a passing empathy with the plight of the islanders who make this desperate bid to remove the blight that has been forced upon their land.

Judgement is never easily arrived at in this novel and it is difficult not to feel pulled in two quite distinct directions. Far from being a criticism, this is one of the great accomplishments of the book, that in failing to impose a resolute judgement as to where moral rectitude truly lies it coaxes the conscience to consider the standpoints of all.

“history is full of tales, and sometimes it takes bravery and pluck to uncover them.”

Bravery and pluck are the lifeblood that abound and flow so thoroughly through Czech siblings Jan and Marie Klesek who, following their father Frantisek, a maths teacher who has got a new job in England, move to a small village. Their arrival in the middle of the night is met by a welcome that is quite literally divest of any warmth and hospitality, a bull charges down the side of the car and the cottage in which they are staying – the curiously named “Shoe Cottage” – is cold, damp and in a state of near dereliction.

Bob Thomson the families new landlord is a seemingly uncaring and miserly individual who has a great nephew, Ross, and a great niece, Kerry, who both become the bane of the Klesek children’s life, taunting, teasing and being malicious to them both. On one such occasion the children take flight and come across a barn where they take shelter from a sudden storm. Lady Beddoes lives in the barn and the two children quickly befriend her.

Marie encounters prejudice and xenophobia in the guise of her new friend, Ashleigh’s mother, Carol Jillson who has a decidedly narrow outlook and small-town mentality when it comes to accepting newcomers, let alone ‘foreigners’.

What Jan and Marie find hidden in a shoe in the chimney of their cottage and that landlord, Bob Thompson, is desperate to gain possession of and thereby conceal, leads to a revelation and through a series of plot twists and turns lead to Lady Beddoe ascending to her rightful position within the village thereby setting about making things right once more! This is a real romp of a read, Jan and Marie make for particularly endearing protagonists whom it is difficult not to feel a joint affinity and affection towards…

“You mean Stacey? You don’t forget a face like hers. She could have been a model if she’d played her cards right. But Stacey was a mess. She always chose the wrong guys.”

The lack of parental control, discipline and most importantly care in Stacey’s life coerces her into the ever-tightening enclaves of Simone’s gang. Amidst her quest for acceptance, Stacey is assimilated into systems of ethics distinct from her own, a choice that leads her, albeit unwittingly, to diminish her life-chances.

Increasingly unable to play to her own strengths, Stacey’s behaviour becomes ever more extreme, documented in the first-person and with strength of emotion and moral resolve by Kev, who is seduced by Stacey’s physical appearance.

Lacking in similar resolve, Stacey who already has an ASBO is fed drugs by her boyfriend whose combined intimidation together with the peer pressure of Simone’s gang sees Stacey spiral from stealing cans of lagers to taking part in a large scale jewellery theft. This is a well executed cautionary tale told through explorations of the types of people we can all too easily become when circumstances and our circle of friends conspire against us.

“They go all sniffy and hurt. ‘We’re not losers,’ they bleat, ‘We’re just different from you.’”

Something of an egotist and concerned to the point of preoccupation with his appearance and the way others perceive him, John Blue is scathing about his brother Dane and his friend Lee, dubbed the two cheeses, Dane-ish Blue and Dairy Lee – because his presence is somewhat unfortunately accompanied by a stale, milky sweat smell.

Dane and Lee are huge fans of Star Wars and so, on learning about the ‘BIGGEST MEETING IN THE HISTORY OF THE GALAXY’ due to be held in New York, are keen to attend the convention. Plans are scuppered, however, as the pair do not have the money to enable this, having spent it all on Star Wars toys, costumes and other paraphernalia.

John Blue is a guitarist in a fairly ineffectual band. Sibling rivalry and disdain for his brother cause him at ever-increasing intervals to make an ‘L’ shape with his finger and thumb against his forehead whilst chanting L-L-L-Loser. This becomes a line of a song that he creates a killer riff to go around!

What happens from hereonin brings Lee and Dane the possibility of fame and indeed fortune. They turn this down handing the opportunity to John Blue whose very perfection and conformity fail to make it viable. Money is still to be made, however, and Dane and Lee prove to be far more astute than John has given them credit for. Breaking down the stereotypes and ease of assumption that might be made about the pair...

Here is a book all self-respecting teenagers could feel proud to be caught perusing, this is testament to the high production values and the quality of writing Barrington Stoke titles embrace. A short and sassy book with Catherine Forde’s ear for teenage idiom and demotic makes for a convincing read.

“You can’t fight against men like Jack Taylor. They never lose. I tried telling your dad that, but he wouldn’t listen. And look what happened to him. I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

The subject of a vicious murder instigated by the command of Jack Taylor, the death of Johnny Delgado’s father has left questions for which Johnny is determined, regardless of personal cost, to uncover answers…

Investigations are driven by Johnny's tense, nervous energy, carried out against an increasingly tumultuous backdrop of gangland violence and war-fare that is instigated by Taylor himself, who presides over the estates as gangland baron. The revelations Johnny makes lead him directly to Taylor and so threaten to endanger his sphere of family and of friends.

The novel concludes with a highly dramatic, classic and beautifully realised show-down on the top of the block of flats where Johnny and his mother live. The covering of snow adds depth and atmosphere to this gripping finale which is reminiscent of Joyce’s “The Dead” in its frost-atrophied ending.

“Time can be made to pause, but she’s an impatient mistress. She won’t wait long, even for griffins. The wink of an eye is almost up.”

The importance of friendship and by consequence of trust is a common thread to much of Michael Lawrence’s writing. When readers are first introduced to Oliver Pie, he is between his thirteenth and fourteenth sigh, all of them made due to the prospects of the adult-centric world that he inhabits and into which he is about to be thrust head-first once more.

When Oliver opens the ram-shackle door at the bottom of his garden, he pushes aside much of the adult influence and constraints of imagination and possibility that have been exerted over his life, stepping instead into a world where there is ceaseless growth and endless openings before him. A griffin, a stone statue located amidst the long green grasses on the other side of the door, forms an anachronism but at once a manifestation of trust and of the needs-fulfilled that accompany the best friendships.

It is little surprise then that after confiding in his father about the Griffin, Oliver feels betrayed when the Griffin is sold to the nearby garden centre. A terrible sense of foreboding broods in the minds of all who approach the statue in the garden centre as transference of feelings occurs. Oliver Pie who has developed emotional attachment to the Griffin shares particularly in this and so must find a way to try to alleviate some of his newfound friend’s anxiety. This is achieved through convincing the Griffin that though he might be from another age, that there is still place and purpose for him in the present.

The curiosity of Oliver, the magic of the Griffin and the careful.depiction of emotion are reminiscent of Edith Nesbit’s writing. Adam Stower illustrates the book beautifully detailing with wonderful expression the Pie family and the Griffin’s magisterial haughtiness. Truly, here is a tale that is timely and, like its subject, is something to be treasured…

Employing the form of a graphic novel, “Fearless Dave” is the story of Dave, a zealous, if somewhat ineffectual knight-in-embryo and his well meaning, though somewhat overbearing, mother.

Responding to an advert in the paper making a plea for a person to help a Princess in distress, Dave sets forth with trusty wooden-blade in hand, and a bucket on his head intending to rid the princess’ bedroom of the beast that dwells there. All, however, is not quite as it appears, although the outcome does mean Dave does has to contend with one of his fears and so prove himself as brave…

Good natured, playful jibes are made about the excesses and hyperbole of history and age-old stories as a tour-guide fervently embellishes the true story of Dave, presenting instead a heroic account to amaze his audience, the contrast between this and the true pictorial and narrative account of Dave’s deeds make for a tongue-firm-in-cheek romp of a read.

Donations of the illustrations by the artists allows royalties from the sales of the book to go to IBBY enabling it to sustain and develop it work in ensuring children the world over have access to high quality books. Each artist presents a short text – nursery rhymes, poetry, riddles, idioms etc – to accompany their illustration.

Thirty-two double page spreads by different illustrators are included, as well as a short summary of biographical and bibliographical information. Countries represented include the United States, Japan, the Czech Republic, Sweden, Canada, Austria, Iran, Brazil, France and many more…

A wealth of recommendations for artists and books to seek out makes this a most welcome addition to the multi-cultural bookshelf and a book to pore over and admire.

Poems are collected under eight headings, some to make one laugh, some to make one think but all of which inspire admiration in the playful, imaginative use of language that opens up new ways to perceive the world around us. Contributors include Paul Cookson, Brian Moses, John Foster and Andrew Fusek Peters.

Of particular note are the Albanian and Czech riddles which have a beautiful simplicity in their outlook. “Don’t Snog Frogs” is a cheeky and comical caution against following the advice of fairy-tales. Jusin Coe’s “The Lost Poem” poses consideration as to what might and might not be considered poetry. Limericks, haiku and riddles give tantalising tastes of the diversity of the poetic form. Primarily a fun book to read, this serves as an excellent introduction to poetry avoiding the high-brow pretensions that can be such a dampener to new readers…

Living in the Kalahari Desert with his large family makes Sunny long for a place of his own. So it is he packs his case, leaves a note of explanation for his family – replicated in photographic form within the book – and sets off to find a new home.

Sunny’s travels lead him to his Uncle Bob’s, to stay with cousins Scratch and Mitch , to cousin Edward and to numerous other family members. Lift-the-flap postcards presented ‘as-written-by-Sunny’ provide additional ‘colour’ to the story giving an intimate account of Sunny’s adventures. Gravett’s observations of Meerkat behaviour is exceptional and creates a vibrant contrast with the detailed simulated facsimiles postcards from Sunny. This is a sophisticated and clever picture-book that benefits from multiple, close readings, that does not patronise its reader and that successfully widens both field and audience for the picture-book, admirable achievements worthy of celebration.

The brain, its substance, size, form and location in the human body are introduced. Basic technical language is used, such as ‘skull’ and ‘brain-stem’ with clear illustrations and associations – the brain stem is compared with a flower stem – to aid both comprehension and memorisation.

Awareness of the basic control function of the brain is provided through lift-the-flap paper engineering depicting the right hand side of the body and the left half of the brain revealing the left half controls the right side of the body, turning the flap indicates the reverse.

The more specific functions and tasks that different sectors of the brain are responsible for are emphasised through the use of a colour-segregated ‘brain map’ and a series of vignette illustrations depicting Little Genius in the process of carrying out various tasks against the backdrop of the colour corresponding to the respective part of the brain responsible for its handling.

Brain sizes in different creatures and in different stages of human development are outlined, as too is the brain’s need for blood, oxygen, rest and stimulation. Though Little Genius might be a small protagonist, he introduces big ideas, content here is pleasingly cerebral both in matter and in method.

Basic specialised language is introduced and explained such as ‘nerves’, ‘ligaments’ and ‘bone marrow’. Lift-the-flap ‘bone map’ forms the basis for a fun quiz where readers are challenged to find the ‘skull’, ‘finger bones’ and other parts of the human skeleton.

Other creatures with skeleton are detailed as well as those without skeletons – sharks and jellyfish – and those with exoskeletons. Foods needed for healthy bone growth and things to avoid that damage bones are also detailed. A great little book to help children begin to bone up on the skeleton and that ties in with curriculum learning.

Following the high production values in terms of print, illustration, paper-engineering, design and lay-out, that Templar’s ‘Ology’ books have become renowned for, “How to be a Knight: A Squire’s Companion” lays-out the mediaeval world of knighthood and chivalric values. Details on chivalry, on armoury, heraldry, training, questing and battles are provided. Adding colour and detail to these are lift-the-flap sections, a complete game, Squirefight, with all the pieces needed to play, a rule book on jousting a pop-up showing the strongholds of the castle gate means and devices for making an attack on enemy castles, a mini bestiary of creatures that might be encountered when questing and a short retelling of the Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

A book that enables such active participation successfully transports readers through time to live and breathe, learn and battle in the age of knights and chivalric honour. The over-arching story provides a satisfying cohesion to the work.

Taking her fears to the logical, if extreme conclusion, Laura wonders why it cannot always be daytime and ponders over a world without night. Laura’s imagination and the illustrations depicting this verge on the surreal as astronomers pan the sky fervently looking for stars, as giant road-rollers level no-longer-needed lamp-posts, as confusions of chickens wonder when to lay breakfast eggs, as plants grow to ever more extreme heights, as the sun lapses into exhaustion and as there are no more dreams, no endless possibilities and escape from the fears of the everyday.

“A Night-Time Tale” is a reassuring read that challenges readers to look and think beyond their initial fears and in so doing that introduces us to impressively wide and varied imaginative vistas.

Tsubasa means wings in Japanese and these play a crucial role in this graphic novel both as a plot device for Sakura, princess of Clow Country, and as a metaphor for the spiritual ‘flight’ they enable.

Raised by her brother, King Toya who presides over Clow County, Sakura has a vision of a symbol. When visiting the archaeologist Syaoran, a childhood friend to whom she intends to profess undying love, Sakura discovers markings in the shape of the same symbol. Powers are unlocked creating the formation of wings upon her back and quickly threaten to pull her into the ruins Syaoran has been uncovering. With tremendous effort, he is able to save Sakura, but amidst this process her wings shatter and disperse across the dimensions

Syaoran and the comatose Sakura make their appearance before Yuko – as concurs with the first volume of “xxxHOLiC”, another series by the CLAMP creators that runs in parallel with this. Syaoran learns that to save Sakura, he must collect each of the feathers from her wings.

Increasingly distressed by the powers vested upon him, Watanuki seeks refuge in a shop that purports to grant wishes. Inside the shop, Yuko offers to aid Watanuki’s hope to be rid of his ability to see ghosts, however, to remunerate her efforts, he must work off a debt equal to the power taken to achieve this…

Yuko is a sage, a wise witch who helps cure her customers of the various addictions, obsessions and preoccupations from which they suffer. Yuko has two henchman, Maru and Moro, twin entities with a deathly pallor and an unnerving ability to communicate telepathically with their mistress.

The “xxxHOLiC” volumes cross with those in “Tsubasa: RESERVoir CHRoNiCLE” and CLAMP, the creators of both, claim the two series tie all of their previous work together. Referential material and interplay between characters and artefacts alike add an extra dimension to the series by consequence.

“A love between dogs and humans can never be”

Caught somewhere between Melvin Burgess’ “Lady My Life as a Bitch” and “Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde” but enlivened and made highly accessible by the dynamism of the Manga form, with its characteristic, almost hyper-active revelation of drama and emotion, “Guru Guru Pon-Chan” makes for a high-paced and humorous reading experience.

The action of the story begins when Grandpa Koizumi believes he has created a ‘chit-chat’ bone, a device allowing animals to communicate with humans. The bone, however, unexpectedly transforms the canine Ponta into a homo-sapien.

Mayhem ensues as Ponta, who in human form initially struggles to speak her needs and desires, gradually falls in love with Mirai who saves her life after she runs out into the road.

Much of the frenetic, sometimes almost too-fast-paced – humour derives from Ikezawa’s perceptive observations of the behaviour of dogs. Alongside parading naked, vomiting and the inevitable sniffing of excretia, Ponta battles against the prejudice of her classmates and has numerous accidents along the way concerning appropriateness of canine behaviour when translated into the human form.

A fun-filled, highly accessible book that will serve as a great introduction to the Manga form and that will resonate with dog owners.

Underlying the desire to become a Magister Magi, is Negi’s wish to find his father Nagi Springfield, a once legendary mage who most now believe to have died. On leaving his school of magic, bizarrely Negi is given an alias as a professor teaching English to a class of girls, all of whom are older than himself, in Japan.

Negi comes across as a likeable, although extremely youthful, individual who is both sensitive and hardworking. His age and relative inexperience enable Akamatsu to parody and satirise a number of conventions in the graphic novel form creating a fiction that looks inward upon its genre challenging a number of its clichés and parameters.

Negi’s class respond to him more as a younger brother to be patronised rather than as a teacher and an antagonism erupts between him and one of the students, Asuna who had a crush for the teacher whom Negi replaced. The story as Negi continues to battle to fulfil his dream of becoming a Magister Magi follows in further volumes.

Mai Taniyama is a high school student with a job employed by the mysterious company, Shibuya Psychic Research. She examines hauntings and the supernatural. Seventeen-year-old Shibuya Kazuya boss of the Psychic Research centre and, to Mai’s mind a liar, cheat and a narcissist, throws her into a confused state of attraction and repulsion from what she initially perceives as arrogance accompanied by boyish good looks.

The company is employed to investigate an old school building that is believed to be cursed after a series of ‘accidents’ occur each time the site is attempted to be re-developed.

Mai’s curiosity over a camera that has been set up to record evidence of any paranormal happenings, leads to her working to pay for the damage. The principal of the school hires other psychics to assess the property including Ayako Matsuzaki who is a Shinto priestess, Takigawa who is a Buddhist monk, John Brown a priest who has learnt Japanese in the Kyoto dialect and believes this to be the polite method of pronunciation and one of the most renowned psychic mediums as featured on teleivison, Masako Hara.

The cross sections of different thoughts and systems of belief provides a backdrop for theological and philosophical discussion. Disagreements abound between all concerned, not in the least between Shibuya and Mai herself, whose wrangling it is implied shrouds quite another emotion as is suggested at the end of the novel when Shibuya offers Mai an administrative position and she keenly accepts.

There are poems here to meet every moment and every mood. Poems are collected under seven beastly headings and range from the miscroscopic – “Said an Angry Amoeba called Anne” – to the gargantuan with “What is a dragon like?”.

Mike Jubb provides notes on a number of the poems, some of which unfairly self-abase the work and thought that belies the crafting of this collection. Points of reference aplenty and a practical written style makes these ideal support for teaching of poetry in the classroom and a perfect springboard to explore other referenced works. All of the notes, however, achieve accomplishment whilst sharing the unpretentious overview they provide of different poetic forms and techniques, areas from which to draw ideas, and ultimately these serve to inspire and enrich an imaginative repertoire that creates a strong and empowering urge to have a go oneself, go on…!

“One for all and all for lunch”

With work that defies easy classification, traversing many genres and all age-ranges, Michael Lawrence deserves to be a much bigger, brighter star amidst the skyline of children’s literature. The ‘Aldous Lexicon’ trilogy, due to draw to a close in October with the highly anticipated, “The Underwood See”, showcases his skills as a powerful, thought-provoking novelist. Meanwhile, his irreverent “Jiggy McCue” stories have found firm readership with children for the anarchic sense of fun and frivolity that fills their pages, an affectionate base lies beneath the mad-cap antics in the latest, “Ryan’s Brain”.

It is characteristic reluctance rather than the bravado shown by many a book’s hero that drives Jiggy McCue, Pete and Angie – this century’s new, self-professed, three musketeers, into their eighth exciting adventures. Taunts on the football pitch between Jiggy and arch-enemy, Bryan Ryan, culminates with a show down whereby Bryan Ryan prepares to head-butt Jiggy, takes his aim, fires and… misses, hitting the wooden goal post instead and suffering immediate concussion!

Pandemonium ensues as events appear to transpire to avenge Jiggy, seemingly manipulated through psychokinesis by the sub-conscious of the eponymous Ryan’s brain. Together with Pete and Angie, Jiggy attempts to convince the brain to reach a truth and in so doing encounters giant slugs, ravenous dogs, marauding horses and eventually uncovers the true culprit responsible for these torments.

Jiggy celebrates his thirteenth birthday in the novel, early teenage behaviour is typified through belligerence and an unerring ability to sleep. Lawrence’s awareness that the absurdity of storylines is what makes this series such a riotous read is belied by the encouragingly warm depiction of unswaying and unconditional brotherly love, respect and admiration that is firmly at the centre of this book. An at once savvy, sensitive but not remotely sentimental story…

His father didn’t trust anybody. Not really. He had a few friends, gambling mates, but Sol couldn’t think of anyone who… Murder. His father was being accused of killing somebody. It hit home for the first time. Sol couldn’t believe it

Trust is firmly at the centre of Oisin McGann’s impressive dystopian thriller, “Small-Minded Giants”. The projected future world which protagonist Sol inhabits is domed, it was one of the last refuges for those with wealth enough to afford survival following the climate changes. The underlying and largely unspoken sense of desperation that accompanies the novel as the mechanics of this domed-world slowly corrode – literally and metaphorically – creates an atmosphere taut and tense to the point of imminent danger.

The novel opens with Sol and his classmates witnessing a crane car crash on their school trip. News breaks that Sol’s father has committed murder and disappeared, the authorities seek out Sol baying for knowledge as to the whereabouts of his father.

Sol becomes ensnared in the political machinations and inner-workings of the domed enclave of Ash Harbour, and is fast embroiled within plot and counter-plot as the likelihood of The Clockworkers, a presumed mythical organisation to protect the Machine of the city, becomes ever more possible.

Sol’s welfare lies with Maslow, a somewhat mercenary and violent individual in whom he has little choice but to place his trust. Disturbing truths are revealed about Ash Harbour and its extreme capitalist nature in Sol’s chase for ultimate truth concerning his father and what becomes the pursuit of survival…

“It’s been the ‘wogs’, the ‘nappy heads’, the ‘foreigners’ the ‘persons of Middle Eastern appearance’, the Asians, the ‘oppressed’ women, the Greek Orthodox pensioner chain-smoker, the ‘salami eaters’, the ‘ethnics’, the narrow-minded and the educated, the fair-dinkum wannabes, the principal with hairy ears who showed me that I am a colourful adjective. It’s their stories and confrontations and pains and joys which have empowered me to know myself, challenged me to embrace my identity as a young Australian-Palestinian-Muslim girl.”

At the start of the novel Amal Mohsamed Nasrullal Abdel-Hakim is beginning a new year at school. She makes the decision to wear the hajib (veil), a choice which shocks the staunchly traditional McCleans Grammar School – with ‘more than one hundred years of proud history’ –, shakes her friends and concerns her parents.

An interesting balance between being assimilated into Australian society and retaining one’s religious and cultural convictions is found by Amal. Enviably, this breaks down some of the stereotypical views of Islam that have been promulgated in the wake of terror… It also provides a fresh outlook on what in essence are fairly mainstream topics in teenage literature.

Amal finds romantic interest in studious, sensitive Adam, this is tempered towards close friendship, conflicts arise resulting from parental influence and there are preoccupations with image and weight. As a construct, the hajib is a particularly pertinent one in this respect, the intentions of adorning it are to help focus on internal beauty rather than its external manifestations – in a world where the media have constantly manipulated acceptable body imagery this comes as a refreshing change.

It is the courage of her convictions that make Amal such a strong and endearing protagonist and it is through her discussions with teachers, friends and family that she is able to arrive at and embrace her ‘identity’, however, wide or narrow that might be perceived as being by her compatriots.

The story charts the history of the red kite in Britain beginning with the legendary veneration of the birds by the King of England who praised their ability to keep clean the streets of London but moving through to the disparagement they suffered at the hands of farmers and game-keepers who believed them r