Okay so I am totally addicted to Roald Dahl. Totally. I mean, how good are his books? Where have they been all my life?
Thus far, between work and
life's commitments, I've read: The
Mr Fox; George’s
Marvellous Medicine (how did that one get past the health and
safety guys??); The
Giraffe and the Pelly and Me; Esio
Magic Finger (I soooo want one of those); and Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator.
That one surprised me. I
didn't know that Charlie continued his adventures publicly after his day at the Chocolate Factory.
On his way back there with his whole family. In the glass lift. It's certainly
an odd little tale. Less endearing than the others, I'd say. Somewhat ahead of
its time with its civilian space travel and space tourism.And a bit more
American methinks than CCF. Which was bizarre. For me. Who always associates the Chocolate Factory
There's lots of action. But
it doesn't really do it for me. Not a (chocolate chip) spot on the Chocolate Factory.
Although following that was always going to be a huge challenge. Which begs the
question why you would try?
It feels like hard work
somehow. For RD or for me. Not quite sure. It's meant to be fun, I know. But
those old people are hard going. And generally I like old people. Except these old people.
RD's not short on moral
statements. But in the
Great Glass Elevator, he's possibly a tad more direct than elsewhere.
Which again feels unnecessary. “It was an unhappy truth, he (Mr Wonka) told
himself, that nearly all people in the world behave badly when there is
something really big at stake. Money is the thing they fight over most.” And,
as RD goes on to show, such behaviour always ends badly.
Still here's another great
collaboration between author and illustrator in the style of A. A. Milne/ E. H.
Shepard: RD and Quentin Blake. Hugely imaginative tales beautifully and
faithfully portrayed. Perfection. I'm enjoying the images as much as the writing...
And I've just found out
that QB used to occasionally present the BBC's Jackanory in the 1970's. Apparently
illustrating the stories on canvas as he told them. My affection for him and
his work grows as I write. I must have watched him over and again. Although I
I do love connections
though. And that's a great connection to my childhood. To which I'm slipping
back. In ever decreasing circles. Should I be worried? Maybe. But not enough to
stop my pursuit of Dahl. Not just yet, anyway...