Hands Off Mr Twiddle!

I watched the BBC biopic Enid over the weekend (starring the always lovely Helena Bonham Carter). While it didn't always paint a rosy portrait of one of the most beloved children's authors of all time, Enid Blyton, it did make me all wistful and nostalgic for the days when I could curl up with the Famous Five and the Faraway Tree and Malory Towers. I read them again and again and again, much in the same way children have been doing for 70-odd years now.

But of course, the modern world is going to get the better of us, and 'update' the 'old-fashioned' language in her stories to make them more 'accessible' to today's children. What a load of codswollop. Nobody's going to update Austen or Shakespeare or Dickens, because they are pieces of history in their own right. I'm pretty sure kids nowdays will be able to grasp that a "school tunic" is a school uniform, or that a "house mistress" is a teacher. Why must we insit on raising a generation of idle-minded idiots? The amount of young adults out there who think it's ok to communicate exclusively in text-speak, to be lax with basic grammar, and to not even attempt correct spelling, is downright disturbing. Let's not raise the next generation in the same way.

As Children's Book Council President Maj Kirkland told ABC radio yesterday, the language in Blyton's books is "unique and loved by children". It's quaint, it's idealistic - but we're talking about the under-12's here. There's a great line in the BBC film where Blyton, being interviewed on the radio, says she "cares nothing for any critic over the age of 12". (Actually, I hope that's a direct quote from the lady herself!) In other words, grown-ups: butt out and let your kids experience the same innocent, magical worlds we did (and our parents, grandparents...though no doubt the people who came up with the idea of 'modernising' were never allowed to read Blyton's books on account of them being anti-feminist or racist or classist or other such '-ists' that your average 9 year old is going to consider).

I still adore the idea of Blyton's "old-fashioned" worlds where tea-time was drenched in lashings of ginger beer and jelly; where the naughtiest misdemeanour schoolgirls were involved in were delicious midnight feasts in the dormitory; and where honesty and good old-fashioned hard work were always rewarded. They not only encouraged a sense of right and wrong, but also encouraged the use of one's imagination - a giant tree with rotating worlds at the top? A flying chair? Ridiculous - but such fun when you're a child! Characters called Dick and Fanny and Mr Twiddle? Snigger, snigger; but isn't it a good way to consider how different generations use different words, instead of simply erasing them from history?

The stories might be, at a basic level, much the same even with updated language, but keeping those 'old-fashioned' words not only expands one's vocabulary (desperately needed in today's 140-character-limit society) but encourages kids to learn. Yes, learn. Figure out the meanings using their brains. And, fundamentally, to simply enjoy the whole point of a story - to be whisked away to a different time/place/world and have some jolly good old-fashioned fun.

Strawberry Shortcake is a Tart

My daughter has only ever had one Happy Meal, and I plan to keep it that way. Not because the mcNuggets were mcburnt, or the "healthy options" side and drink were questionable, but because the toy she got was a Strawberry Shortcake figurine. Not the cute and sweet SS of my day (FYI I was born in the 80's, even though that saying might make you think I've lived through a few World Wars) but a mini-skirted, boufed-up little hottie with some awful Pucci-ripoff print on her frock. And half a cardi. To compare:

Admitedly 2008 Shortcake still has a sensible sun hat, but where are the cute pigtails? The indie striped tights and the frilly knickerbockers that would whip any vintage junkie into a frenzy? Where is the goddamn pink cat?! HMMM? I guess new Strawberry would have a lapdog in a deisgner bag. Bratz would not be amused by her cute ballet shoes (oh my god, hooooow pedestrian, and self-respecting 8 year old has pointed stilettto boots) but let's just not even go there. Or let's. We went to a birthday party last week, for an 8 year old, and while I had a grand time in Diva picking out sparkly accessories for the gift, I was astonished when the birthday girl opened present after present of Bratz accessories. I was completely lost. And even more dumbfounded when the girls decided to name each of the adults in the room after one of the characters. I, apparently, am Jasmine. I didn't know whether to be offended, embarrassed or amused. I decided to be none of the above and thanked my lucky stars for an innocent, late-80's childhood where the most sinister and badly-dressed character was Tex from SuperTed.

It's not just ol' Strawberry that has had a makeover though. It was heart-wrenching to discover that the Sweet Valley High books have been revamped. No longer are Jessica and Elizabeth "perfect size 6's" (AU10) who wear brandless yet creative outfits - now they are an even more perfect sz 4 and as Sarah Weinman of nymag.com says, "the bid for modernity now has Elizabeth blogging, her boyfriend Todd joking about the ESPN highlight reel, Jessica hunting for Roberto Cavalli dresses, and rich bitch Lila fishing in her Louis Vuitton backpack for a pot of Sephora lip gloss." Bah. Where are sweet Liz's wholesome barrettes and Jessica's flippant overpart? Is Winston Egbert now completely cool a la geek chic? If my daughter ever reads this new SVH in say, ten years hence, she'll just laugh at the blatant mid-noughties dagginness of it all. The whole point of the originals was that they had no specific timeframe: every teenage girl could delightedly imagine her own Dairi Burger, cheerleader competitions and apparently gargantuan local mall. Are they going to "revamp" the books every time a trend changes? I still have most of my SVH and Sweet Valley Twins books, and I'll guard them with my life. I did however, sell the majority of the BabySitter's Club set that I owned. A complete set, mind you. A few more years and I could have gotten a small fortune for those. There are still a few classics on my bookshelf in my room at mum's house - but God help you and your spawn, Ann M. Martin, if you ever "modernise" those enterprising and creative 13 year olds from Stoneybrook. Much in the same way we can never, ever let the Stone Roses reform and ruin the memories of what is simply the most brilliant debut album ever and a not-quite-so-brilliant-but-better-then-most followup; so must we never "cool-ise" the innocence of those characters who taught us so much in about matching outfits, stereotypes and milkshakes.

Any marketer out there with their eye on the Enid Blyton boarding school books: piss off. Quickly. I will thump you heartily with my tuck-box and delight in bludgeoning you with my lacrosse stick if you touch so much as a hair on the pretty little heads of the Twins from St Clare's.