By Ellen Francis
I was describing one of my favourite childhood books to a friend the other day. It was about a pair of children who are orphaned and run off to find their long lost uncle Gus who is a circus performer. They find him, the boy becomes an elephant trainer, the girl becomes an acrobat, the reluctant uncle learns to love them (as does the whole circus) and they're allowed to stay. A quick Google reveals this is Circus Shoes by Noel Streatfeild and reminds me I also loved her books Ballet Shoes and White Boots, stories about sisters who become brilliant ballet dancers and ice skaters respectively.
I also loved the Secret Garden, with its precocious child prodigy; I enjoyed Anne of Green Gables, who made a happy life from a difficult beginning; I ploughed through the adventurous Swallows and Amazons. It does appear I preferred books with strong female characters, although I hadn't realised this before. Perhaps it is also telling to look at what we didn't enjoy in comparison to our peers. I never liked any of the Enid Blyton type books: all too wholesome. And I couldn't get to grips with school-set fiction like Mallory Towers: too obviously idealized.
I'm not quite sure what all this says about me. I’d love to be brilliant at something but at 36 I've yet to discover an untapped talent (to my great chagrin). I haven't run away to join the circus but I probably am a bit of an escapist/fantastist; the positive spin would be that I am an adventurous, unconventional type. One analysis is clear to me: these favourite characters were all fiercely independent and individualistic often with fairly dysfunctional/absent families; and that I could (and still can) definitely identify with.
I also loved the Secret Garden, with its precocious child prodigy; I enjoyed Anne of Green Gables, who made a happy life from a difficult beginning; I ploughed through the adventurous Swallows and Amazons. It does appear I preferred books with strong female characters, although I hadn't realised this before. Perhaps it is also telling to look at what we didn't enjoy in comparison to our peers. I never liked any of the Enid Blyton type books: all too wholesome. And I couldn't get to grips with school-set fiction like Mallory Towers: too obviously idealized.
I'm not quite sure what all this says about me. I’d love to be brilliant at something but at 36 I've yet to discover an untapped talent (to my great chagrin). I haven't run away to join the circus but I probably am a bit of an escapist/fantastist; the positive spin would be that I am an adventurous, unconventional type. One analysis is clear to me: these favourite characters were all fiercely independent and individualistic often with fairly dysfunctional/absent families; and that I could (and still can) definitely identify with.
If I were a child today I'd be reading heaps about orphaned child prodigy Harry Potter, no surprises there.
Published as part of Not The Style Page's SpeedBlog series
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