Aimee Howarth brings you an interview with The Yorker directors on the final day of the advent articles
Aimee Howarth speaks to YUSU's sabbatical officers about their Christmas Day routine for day 17 of the advent calendar
For the final time this term, Vicky Morris updates you on this weeks film news
The Yorker investigates what goes on behind the scenes of the York Carnival.
Exploring the niche of children’s fiction, we are frequently greeted with works such as Horrid Henry and Captain Underpants: outspoken and outlandish characters for the 21st century who, although having excellent selling records for a short period, are likely to fade out of memory within a short space of time.
The reason? Well these characters are all interchangeable: those who are good often triumph. Even Horrid Henry has his angelic traits. Besides, he is unable to match his rebel without cause counterparts, Dennis and Gnasher.
Children’s entertainment is constantly evolving to be more ridiculous, extreme and comedic on television. Books and comics aim to compete. However, all these changes leave out a very human element and are achieved only as 2D outlets: they are only believable on the screens at home or on the pages of the book.
Dahl, however, takes home truths as the fundamental basis of his tales.
Worryingly, the truths of Dahl’s youth are of the loss of a father at just three years old and his sister a short while afterward. Add a lengthy period being beat and punished for the most ridiculous and petty of problems when sent off to boarding school and you have quite the tainted individual. If this was not troubling enough, the adolescent Dahl was plunged into a world of war and served in the army.
There are few authors who have killed. Of these, the number which constitutes children’s authors is slim to only-occupied-by-Dahl. Why should this man of a dark and cruel past be interested in branching into the domain of storytelling? The question is even more intriguing if we consider his successful publication of ‘Boy’. Or is it?
Tales of the misspent days that Roald enjoyed were just as interesting to adults and children alike. Naturally for different reasons: yet this divide in reason really grounded Dahl’s passion. An adult would pick up ‘Boy’ upon its publication and be moved by the fact that there was some violence, but would maintain an air of decorum. The logic of the adult would be ‘these things happen’. Although the book may evoke some memories of their own childhood, it would read as a whiny recounting of some punishment they probably would advocate as deserved and measured.
Meanwhile, the true recollections would both scare and entertain a child in equal measure. They would conjure up images of wicked teachers and hard punishments that were such fixed parts of their day, and yet seemed so far away and mystical with the generational changes in the education system. Moreover, Dahl would be a gateway by which an adult understood the zany apprehension of children that is so easily forgotten and abandoned by adults once they reach adolescence.
Hell, even Roald Dahl by his own admission lost a great deal of interest in his own children once they reached their teens.
Each person probably has their own favourite from the diverse and so enriching collection of Dahl’s stories for youngsters. Of course, while his material explicitly for adults remained popular, the different threads so intricately weaved in many of the children’s stories spoke to all generations, as did Blake's imaginative illustrations, atypical of scenes in Victorian novels printed in newspapers. The grotesque and the macabre are deeply probing of human nature.
To illustrate this gulf in division between how a child and an adult may perceive a book, let us briefly consider a few of Dahl’s most cherished works:
Firstly, there is the most evident and amusing element, which is the ridiculous nature of his characters and storylines. James and the Giant Peach features aunts who make worse parents than those of Baby P, and overgrown spiders, ladybirds, stick insects and crickets as inhabitants of an oversized legume. Oh and they’re being hunted by a rhinoceros. Naturally. George’s Marvellous Medicine has a trickster brew his own remedies in the home on an epic scale, whilst a world made of chocolate is on the menu in Charlie And The Chocolate Factory. Sweet revenge.
Each of these episodes play on two interlinked themes: mild horror and humour. The careful balance of the two appeases all the desires of human nature in a single bound: this crux of literature allows us an insight into our darkest capabilities in extreme situations. Even if they are somewhat tentative ones, where teachers throw children in the Chokey.
Besides, when there’s a fantastical world where animals are friends in The Giraffe, The Pelly and Me, or when you have a devastatingly magic finger, who needs to care about reality?
Well Dahl actually does. And this ensures the longevity of his tales. After all “A little nonsense now and then, is cherished by the wisest men.” [Roald Dahl]
For example, we could take classic Fantastic Mr Fox, in which the book’s eponymous hero takes on the dastardly Boggis, Bunce and Bean (one fat, one short, one lean). Entertaining as the plights of an animated fox and his cohort are, many look over the book as the control of world supply as each farmer specialises in a different area of agriculture. Therefore, research suggests that the tale is one of Capitalism vs Communism: the cunning fox ensuring that all his friends share food, regardless of wealth, whilst the greedy farmers want payment and a hierarchy. Communism appears favoured: but then the war robbed Dahl of many of his dreams. Moreover, there is also the view that these three men are those who were in charge of the pivot of world power in early 1945: one fat, Churchill, one short, Stalin, one lean, Roosevelt. Whimsical characters may fascinate, but relating these to problems influenced by world politics leaves a lasting impression.
Whilst this layer of Dahl sounds overly serious, this man had been shaped by experiences of loss, child abuse and war crime. Why should his works not encompass those shady areas that are often greyed out for children?
In this way, Matilda makes a stand for children everywhere: abusive parents do not recognise her abilities and a cruel Trunchbull menaces and demeans all those who display any talent: education taking place in a restricted environment, as if mechanically. Child protection issues are the focus for any adult. Oh and the idea of feminism. Mrs D, Mrs I, Mrs FFI, Mrs C, Mrs U, Mrs LTY. Why exactly are they all married? Is it to reflect that married women are quite ignorant of their children, sending them to schools that taunt, tease and punish? After all there are right minded single women that are able to perfectly function in society and have many aspirations: cue Miss Honey, not Trunchbull.
The Vicar of Dibbleswick introduces a character with an issue akin to that of dyslexia, by which he says a great many of his words backwards. Whilst this provides domain for the most amusing and ridiculous of addresses in his sermon, an adult will perceive the need to accept many people, despite supposed flaws, in an age that saw the rise of political correctness.
Esio Trot sehcaet su s’ti reven oot etal ot llaf ni evol. Or rather, tortoise teaches us it’s never too late to fall in love. The most ridiculous and bizarre of love stories; through yonder balcony, not daylight, but turtle will break. And then the mad middle aged woman downstairs will fall desperately in love with you and you won’t have to be crazy old turtle man. Oh, and it’s never too late to follow your dreams. Important lesson there.
So we should consider three of the more important life lessons Roald Dahl bestowed upon us, each reflecting differently on child and adult:
1. “What I mean and what I say is two different things”. 2. “Never do anything by halves if you want to get away with it. Be outrageous. Go the whole hog. Make sure everything you do is so completely crazy it's unbelievable...” 3. “And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.”
Such duality is the most lasting aspect of the Roald Dahl’s work. “I'm wondering what to read next." Matilda said. "I've finished all the children's books.” All she need do, is read them again. The story is never the same twice, because the world shaping it will have changed.
You must log in to submit a comment.
