Puddle Lane: The Magic Box

Written By: Shelia McCullagh

Illustrated by Gavin Rowe

Publisher: Ladybird Books, 1985

Weird books stay in children's imaginations, or so I'm concluding. Associations around feeling slightly afraid seem to impinge harder, more deliberately in the memory. I don't proclaim to know anything about the psychology behind this, 'fight or flight' related I'm tentatively guessing, but from my own experience, when I saw this book in the charity shop last year, I smiled, picked it up, flicked through the pages with trepidation, put it back - should I buy this? It freaked me out as a child...the Griffle, a vanishing green monster, the mice, they come to life, a magic box... 

Puddle Lane was a popular British pre-school reading scheme in second half of the 1980's, that accompanied a part- animated children's television series made by Yorkshire Television in Leeds for ITV. In the television programme the main character, the magician, who lived in the big house at the end of Puddle Lane (see picture above), was played by Monty Python actor and musician, Neil Innes. In the reading scheme, published by Ladybird (but incidentally not adopting the classic 52 page Ladybird standard), the magician comes and goes as a plot device, and is sometimes absent from the stories altogether. 

Now Puddle Lane seemed quite dated, and stiff in style, even back when I was using the scheme to learn to read in the 1980s. The dress sense, toys and townscape were all very Victorian, and certainly the children's expansive right to roam (and walk purposefully into an old man's garden when they know he's away) and talk to strangers and busy-bodies in the street, indeed sat very uneasily with me as a four year old, but I did remember this all, vividly, well. 

Now thirty years later I'm sharing the same small, hardback books with my daughter, and she equally delights in them, holding her breath, worrying where the strange little stories might be going.  

In this particular title, The Magic Box, which was on stage 1 of the scheme (each stage had a different cover colour), the children fend off the unwanted advice of Mrs Pitter-Patter, neighbourhood nosey-parker, and head to the magician's garden to pick up a birthday present left by the magician for Sarah. When Sarah and Davy arrive they find a big box in the hollow of a tree with a message attached saying, 'Don't open the box. Push the red button.' Bizarre indeed!  The children press the button, music plays from the box, and the children uncontrollably dance. The music box is of course magical, and casts a spell on anyone who hears the music to dance along. The children then try out the box on sleepy Mr Gotobed, and then who should return, but interfering Mrs Pitter-Patter. The box plays a further trick on Mrs Pitter Patter, singing a silly rhyme about her, and forcing her to dance despite as she tries to protest. The outcome is as implausible and fantastical as the rest of the story, but funny and unexpected.  

Over the past year I've managed to acquire a good collection of the Puddle Lane series from charity shops, exclusively of the titles I remember, such as The Vanishing Monster, and The Wideawake Mice, and my all time favourite, Puddle Lane at Christmas. My daughter, surprisingly I think, given that this is a generation being taught to read through phonics,loves to try to read (or more appropriately try to remember) the emboldened key words on the right hand page of the double page spread. The reading notes page in each Puddle Lane book seems archaic in some respects, instructing parents to read aloud first following with a finger, but the satisfaction my daughter gets from committing these short sentences to rote, surprises me more. She loves the pictures in the books, especially all the British mammals and birds, such as mice and owls, with their human characteristics. Edie also likes the characters, slightly wayward children, but always doing something kind, helping out animals in crisis, thinking about others. She's captivated by the eeriness, the weirdness of the stories, the fear, just as I was. 

All in all then, Puddle Lane is a nostalgic trip down memory lane, and well worth a revisit. 

And if you like this, you might also like The Tale of the Tooth Fairy, based on a shared eeriness and fear. 

You might also remember the television series (I have only a vague recollection of this myself, though watched a lot of ITV children's programmes as a child!):

First Greek Myths - Jason and The Golden Fleece

Author: Saviour Pirotta
Illustrator: Jan Lewis
Publisher: Orchard Books, Hachette Children's Books, 2009

I've been excited about reviewing this book for a while, or more so, Pirotta's First Greek Myth series from Orchard Books. These books were the first books Alf (3 years old at the time, but 7 now) requested we borrow again from the library (music to my ears). These were also the first books I found Alf trying to read himself, unprovoked (again, a really special moment for a mum bookblogger). As part of the Orchard Colour Crunchies series these books are intended as 'early readers' but personally I think they need a shout-out as possibly the best books for emerging g independent readers, they're exciting, the perfect length, great illustrations (fascinating, maybe a tad scary, but that's part of the appeal), and full of the essence of adventure: fights, swords, monsters to defeat, voyages, magic, wishes made, promises broken. I'm a fan, and testimony to the longevity of this series, when I left the featured title on the sofa last night, ready to review, Alf picked it up and said, 'ah great! I love these books! Can you read this to me now?' (Recommended reading from 3 years to 7, and upwards and counting then!)

Interestingly, and as a nod to promoting more female leads in children's literature I like to think, in Jason and The Golden Fleece, Pirotta frames the main character not as Jason but Princess Medea, who is introduced first, and whom gets the final exposition on the closing page of the book. This is refreshing, especially as a rewrite of the male-hero binary that normally dominates adaptations of the Greek Myths. Medea is even portrayed as superhero-like with the text declaring, 'At last the powerful princess was free' supported by a picture of Medea looking majestic, with hands held aloft. My three year old daughter approves, and like her brothers, requests this title specifically.  

It's worth saying that each book in the First Myths series starts with a 'cast list' displaying two of the key characters in the book, and how to pronounce their names phonetically. Again this is useful for emergent readers, and for reading adults alike as some of the Greek names are impossible sounding in appearance to say on first reading.  

As the story of Jason and The Golden Fleece is so well known I won't linger on the narrative, only to say that in this version, unlike other children's versions of this myth I've read,  Medea is instrumental in every aspect of Jason winning the Golden Fleece (how postfeminist!)Though this empowered portrayal of women doesn't always transcend in this series: in Theseus and The Man-Eating Monster, for example, poor Ariadne is tricked and left on a desert island by Theseus (in other versions she returns on the boat with Theseus (and reminds him to put the white sail up, which prevents Theseus's father from killing himself). Personally, while it's great to see a positive, strong female characterisation in Medea, I also like the darker interpretation of the Myths. The Greek Myths themselves should be essential reading for any child, they're captivating, and the cornerstone of modern narrative conventions (or so I've read before). 

Beyond being perfectly concise and full of well chosen 'early reader' appropriate vocabulary,  I also like these books for the illustrations, particularly the many head shots with expressions told in the eyes. My eldest son really dislikes drawing, but the cartoon-like nature of the humans in this book inspired his attempt at a potrait based on one of the head shots. The illustrations are simplistic, bright and effective, with the layout of each page uncluttered, and so consecutive reading passages are easily signpost. 

In all then, these are exhilarating short reads. I'm so grateful to my local library for stocking these and in so doing, introducing me and my children to this fantastic series. I think they'd be perfect for supplementing reading in school libraries for KS1.  
If you like the representation of strong female leads in children's literature mentioned here, you might also like: Princess Smartypants by Babette Cole

Here are all the titles in the series (I bought them all as I had to stop borrowing them again and again from the library):

And thanks to starting out on these really simple condensed versions of the Greek Myths, Alf (7) now loves the 1963 Ray HarryHausen Columbia Pictures production of 'Jason and The Argonauts'. This film is a great way to support the reading, and vice versa.

Watch exerts from the film here: Jason and the Argonauts (1963)

Snow-White and Rose-Red

Ladybird Well-Loved Tales: Snow-White and Rose-Red

Retold by Vera Southgate

With illustrations by Eric Winter

Publisher: Ladybird Books Ltd, 1969

I loved this book as a child. The illustrations stayed in my memory; fond memories, though I think the pictures have lodged there due to the combination of bizarre, haunting, and quite frightening images. I was given a copy of this 1969 Ladybird classic by a fellow vintage Ladybird fan, and debated whether to share it with the children. On reading it to the boys a year ago ( then 4 and 6), they disliked the story, finding it too long ( the book has that damp, musty hue of 'vintage old' which didn't help the bedtime reading experience). On reading it to my daughter last week, nearly 4, she was captivated. 

The story opens setting the scene on these angelic, well behaved sisters, Snow White and Rose Red, who live with their mother in a cottage in the wood. A rose bush in white and red grow outside. The children spend their days helping their mother ( by arranging flowers in her room) and romping about in the forest. Although the forest is dangerous, the creatures of the forest never hurt the children ( seemingly because they're so good and have a guardian angel protecting them). The children even wake one day to find they've been sleeping by the edge of a cliff, but it's okay, as they're angel looked over them. Bizarre? Truly. And so far removed from any story she's ever heard or been exposed to both, my daughter was fascinated.

The book continues on the classic 50 page Ladybird easy reading format; roughly three short paragraphs per page, and this Ladybird decidedly less pompous and 'wordy' than others in the series. About a fifth of the way into the story, the girls are visited at home by a great brown bear. The mother of the girls instructs her children not to be afraid (biblical angel like), and they rub snow from his fur. The bear and the children become friends, and the bear visits the children every night until spring. Strange so far, but endearing- and then the book takes an even stranger turn. The girls meet an angry dwarf in the forest, with his long white beard trapped in a log. The illustration of this grotesque, angered dwarf is quite scary, it's not like the sanitised Disney of today, more like the surreal age Disney, but a notch up from that. The light pastel pallet of 1960s Ladybird is quite insipid. The dwarf, with no way to escape, is eventually set free by one of the girls snipping his beard off with her convenient pair of scissors, which happen to be on her person. The dwarf is horrified rather than grateful, grabs a nearby bag of gold and scampers away. 

The girls then meet the dwarf twice more, once with his beard tangled in a fishing line, so again they release him by cutting his beard (he's angry and runs off witch a bag of pearls), and finally, they see the dwarf being carried away by a giant bird (a roc?) . The girls pull on the feet of the dwarf to help release him, but again, after he's free he's angered to have been 'manhandled) .No words of thanks. On seeing the dwarf for a final time, the girls stop to admire his spread-out jewels. Just as the dwarf is about to have an almighty tantrum, in bounds the bear, who kills the dwarf. The bear sheds his fur coat and is of course, a prince, trapped under the dwarf's evil spell. With the spell now broken as the dwarf lies dead, the prince brings his friends, Snow-White and Rose-Red home, surprisingly their delighted mother. And to add to all that enchantment, the prince has a brother for the Rose Red to marry! How very convenient!

Yes this book is a bit menacing, if read that way, and yes it's dated, smelly, makes no sense, pushes at the boundaries of 'fairy tale' and farce ( unintentionally), but it's so memorable, so enthralling, so bizarre. Edie has requested this every day this week, , and no doubt it will be laid out ready for me to read tomorrow. Vintage Ladybird at its best.

If you like this book, you might also like another Vintage Ladybird: The Sly Fox and The Little Red Hen

Tales of Robin Hood: Robin and the Silver Arrow

Author: Damian Harvey
Illustrator: Martin Remphry
Publisher: Franklin Watts, Hachette Children's Books, 2006, The Hopscotch Series

I've recently put a polite request in with our local library to please consider buying more of these Hopscotch Series of books as my boys (5  and 7, and increasingly so my 3 year old girl) absolutely love this collection. Over the past couple of years, we've borrowed and read the Tales of Robin Hood, the Stories of Sinbad the Sailor through this range, and some about legends or historical figures such as BloodAxe Eric, Blackbeard the Pirate, Sir Gwain and the Green Knight (Tales of King Arthur), Mary Seacole, Guy Fawkes to name a few. I imagine the true series range is huge, sadly our library and all the local libraries from which I also requested, have incomplete books in the series ( and we live in a big city for the UK). What a shame for all that the number of books obtainable from the Hopscotch series free in our libraries is sadly limited. Moreover, they don't seem to carry this series at my children's school either, which again, is a real travesty. Seems such a pity as this series makes reading rock! 

From an educational point of view, Hopscotch states it is 'specially designed to fit the requirements of the National Literacy Strategy, aiming to develop children's reading skills' and carries the 'series advisor Dr Barrie Wade, Professor of English in Education, University of Birmingham' . As I've stated before on my blog, I can't officially comment on the educational value of children's books I review, as I have no training at this age range, but whenever I finish reading a Hopscotch book, I always personally feel I've learnt something (mainly about a historical figure). 

In this title, Tales of Robin Hood: Robin and the Silver Arrow, there's a good mix of dialogue and narrative, enabling early readers to try out expression. The illustrations are a little fussy perhaps, but they are laid out pragmatically, allowing roughly three or four sentences  maximum per picture. The use of thought bubbles helps emerging readers follower the storyline, and place themselves in a authorative and knowledgeable position as storyteller. All the books I've read in this series follow the same very useful and purposeful logic. Themes and vocabulary coming out of this title, as an example, are: disguise, competition ( in relation to a tournament), the den and merry men (working together as a team and having friends). This pitch is again typical across the series. 

Using a very familiar folk legend, Robin Hood, children come to the text with some existing expectations. As an adventure story, they seek action-filled, but in way of critiquing this particular title, I would suggest that there are maybe too many characters introduced all at once: Robin, Will Scarlet, little John, Much the Miller's Son, and the Sherriff all in just 31 very short pages. Saying this, as the story is already familiar, this isn't too much of a problem; my two sons, early independent readers, get a real sense of statisfaction from being 'in the know' and feel confident and interested in reading this series themeselves as a consequence. Thumbs up to Hopscotch for #gettingboysreading! 

Frankie's Magic Football Series

Author: Frank Lampard / Lamps On Productions
Illustrations: Lamps On Productions
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers, 2014-

Whether these books are all completely penned by British footballer Frank Lampard himself, or underwritten by the copyrighted 'Lamps on Production' team is absolutely of no interest on concern to me. Whether Frank Lampard has one of the highest ever IQ scores recorded by Mensa (see his wiki- it's also somewhat of an urban legend when these books are mentioned in the playground), no concern to me. Whether we, as parents, have read the tabloid tattle on Frank Lampard or not, take all this out the equation; this series of books brought reading alive to my boys, and I'll be forever grateful.

At around 5 years old, both Alf ( now 7) and Bert (currently 5) hit a plateau with their interest in reading. The books coming home from school tried their best to engage ( and follow a reading scheme) but they were all so generic and about baking muffins or finding a grasshopper in the garden. Frankie's Magic Football series fills the void perfectly. They're fantasy / adventure stories about friendship, teamwork and football. Frankie, is a school boy who accidentally comes to own a magic ball in the first book of the series, a ball that transports him and his friends back in time or to a different country or place in each book. Consequently my boys would be asking me about Romans one day, space exploration another, and Australia another according to which of the now 18 books in the two series they would be reading. While the context of the action changes, the main four characters in the series are a constant feature of all the books ( Frankie, Charlie, Max the dog, and notably, a key female character, Louise (who is skilled at football, brave and clever- thumbs up on the positive female representation)). 

Physically the books have some, but not many, cartoon black and white images; big, clear 
font and double-line spaced pages; collectable game cards ( perforated) at the back of each book; short chapters and roughly 100-150 pages- all attractive prospects for early readers. In terms of the vocabulary, again this is very well pitched, short descriptions, occasional metaphors, nothing too academic but at the same time there's a good range of words, plenty of adjectives. 

My boys have both found these books are very addictive, and have really risen to the idea of reading through a series. When they started reading these books ( roughly aged 5 and a half) they haven't been able to read these word for word, but the books are composed well enough that if a child can follow the gist of the story, that's enough: the narrative is cleverly summarised every so often and characters remember things and have flashbacks, so children can regain the gist quite easily. Alf and Bert got a real sense of satisfaction from the intertextuality in the series, and delighted in also cross referencing moments in the books with each other.  

To five year olds, the fact a footballer is a writer, talking to them, writing for them, is something very special. It gives these books credence; they are cool and credible even before they've started reading. Getting children to feel positive about reading, and that reading is not just something they have to do at school, but something they can do for pleasure, is hard if the 'appeal' is not there. Frankie's Magic Football series 1 and 2 appeals hugely, so thank you so much Frank Lampard, you helped us overcome the reading glitch and taught my children how to love literature. 

Treasure Island

Usborne Young Reading version of Treasure Island
Based on the story of Robert Louis Stevenson
Retelling: Angela Wilkes
Adaption: Sam Taplin
Illustrations: Peter Dennis
Publisher: Usborne, 2007

Tonight I really enjoyed reading this adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island to my seven year old boy Alf. This adaptation is part of series two in the Usborne Young Reading scheme, and is aimed at 'readers who are growing in confidence'. Part of a reading scheme this book may be, and indeed Alf has read many from this series through school, but actually they're great for adults to read aloud as bedtime stories too, especially condensed classics such as this one, as I think we're still a year or more away from his interest and concentration being such as to listen to the real thing chapter by chapter, night by night. 

This took me about 20-25minutes to read aloud at a good steady pace, with interjection time for questions and elaboration. The main point of departure from the novel, and most sanitised part of this classic, is the absence of the 'black spot' (chapter 1, The captain's secret), which was a shame I felt, as this pirates folklore was a highlight for me in the novel. The arrival of the blind man and death of Billy Bones needed a lot of elaboration too, I felt, to bring this adaptation anyway near as gripping as the novel. Likewise Jim Hawkins hiding in the apple barrel lost all sense of fear and thrill in this version, but then, this adaptation is more of an introduction to the plot only, rather than the anything of the texture and feel of the story. It's intended for a different purpose than the novel of course, and to sustain interest (especially from the target audience of 5-8 year old boys I assume) the book moves forward fast, only a little too fast given the breadth of characters introduced. At points Alf lost track inthe whose who. In fact, this Usborne Reader feels a bit like the exposition section in The York Notes, only on speed, no wonder we both got lost. 

What we liked about this adaptation though- the graphics feel very 'classic' and the thought bubbles from characters bring foresight to characters are feeling. Alf loved the gung ho of the plot, with Jim Hawkins climbing rigging, shooting with pistols, hiding in forts and chartering row boats to save the day. The book is action packed and readable in one session, though as an early reader it is also suitable to be read alone and can be dipped in and out of with the short chapters.  The vocabulary suits slightly younger readers than Alf too, maybe 5-6, but he was interested in the pirate specific words and pirate specific code, such as the reading of the treasure map and the double bluff of Long John Silver. In all, this is a good, comforting read best placed as a one-off bedtime story when in between chapter books with the older readers (+7 years in our house). It left Alf asking ' for the real thing' tonight, which was exactly my intention. 

I am Batman

Adapted by Catherine Hapka
Illutrations: Pencils by Adrian Barrios, Digital Paints by Kanila Tripp
Inspired by the film The Dark Knight
Publisher: HarperCollins, DC Comics, 2008

This book is part of the I Can Read! series; this title sits in the level 2 category, 'reading with help' (billed as 'high-interest stories for developing readers'). I'm truly grateful for this series as at various moments in their journeys to learn to read both Alf (now 7) and Bert (now 5) have declared that 'books aren't for them' (historically this has been at about 4 and a half), and this series has coaxed them back.  Without having ever seen the film Batman: Dark Knight they still expressed the opinion that 'Dark Knight Batman in black' was far cooler than 'Batman Bold and Brave in Blue' (so says five year old boys then). With these books it's like the battle to engage is won simply from the cover. 

In I am Batman the first half of the book introduces Batman, his alter ego, his gear, his gadgets, and some of his friends, such as Lucius Fox and Police Lieutenant Gordon. The second half of the book offers a smidgen of story; Batman's friend Rachel throws a party gatecrashed by The Joker, and Batman, and his gadgets, come to the rescue. There's a satisfying ending, with the joker about to spend time in jail, and Batman uttering the famous words, 'I am not just Bruce Wayne. I am Batman.' 

The graphics in the book are comicbook-like enough to feel grown up and as if you're accessing a book for older children. The prose is a little confusing: while the sentences are short, sensibly, there's a lack of fluidity in what's being told ( but then this is 'Batman' so that's fine, we're expecting some macho grunts). The vocabulary is very challenging, and there's a host of American English spellings and words: 'armor' for example, and 'apartment', but saying that, the batman specific vocabulary is appealing to my boys: 'gadgets', 'crime fighting gear', 'batarang' ( I'm always surprised how they remember these words and then they crop up in their own writing). Anything that fuels an interest in reading for that crucial 4-5 year old boy age group, to me, is worthy of applause. 

Henry and Mudge: The First Book

Author: Cynthia Rylant
Illustrator: Sucie Stevenson
Publisher: Simon Spotlight, 1987, edition featured Aladdin Paperbacks 1990

I know very little about this author (I just looked her up: Cynthia Rylant) and very little about the educational context of this 'ready-to-read' series of books ( Henry and Mudge), but I absolutely love this book, and I'm cherishing passing it on to my children. 

Henry and Mudge: The First Book is about a young boy, Henry, who feels lonely. He has no siblings nor friends in his neighbourhood; he asks his parents for a dog. His parents agree, so along comes Mudge, a puppy. This puppy grows into a huge drooling heavy-weight of a dog and a lovely friendship between boy and dog is forged, seemingly impenetrable. There's a humourous 'growing up' moment in the story when we see all the collars Mudge grows out of, before meeting giant Mudge himself. This sweet, charming story is so well written, it reads aloud so effortlessly as an adult, and with its many moments of pause and reflection, it reads easily to the child as well. Bert read the series when four and a half years old, and he was a fair to good reader at the time. It's an ideal book as part of the Summer Reading Challenge, as one of many in an American early years reading scheme.

Now what I especially like about this man and beast relationship, is that it's shown to be reciporcal, so dog Mudge, loves Henry as much as Henry adores Mudge. They spend all their time together, sharing the same bed, smelling each other, lying on each other. 

Henry gains confidence through having Mudge, described concisely yet poetically: 

Rylant's economy with words is Orwellian. She gets across the idea perfectly, with no unnecessary exposition. As an early reader these books are perfect, very short smart 
sentences, interesting vocabulary but most importantly a gripping story. I remember my heart beating in my head reading these books as a child, wondering if Henry will find Mudge once Mudge goes missing in the wood. Rylant sets up this moment of loss and worry so nicely, showing how the landscape suddenly seems big and empty, showing the desperation in Henry as he shouts and shouts for his dog. The pastel watercolour and pen illustrations feel a tiny bit dated, but mainly thanks to dad's handlebar moustache (though admittedly back as a fashion faux pas again currently). Saying this, I like how Sucie Stevenson has captured a sense of flow in the tree detail and the idea of a vast lonely sky with the formation of birds migrating overhead in the Mudge being lost scene. 

The ending of the book is also suprisingly solemn, with Rylant reminding the reader about the fear and loss Henry felt when Mudge was missing. As such, this story really stays with children; after reading it yesterday Bert asked if we could get a dog (fairly predictable), recalling how Mudge was Henry's best friend. He said that in the story Henry had learnt how much he loved Mudge, especially when he was gone. Loyalty, and valuing friendship then, is a theme children take from this book. 

The Pied Piper of Hamelin

Adapted by: Unknown
Illustrated by: John Holder
Publisher:  Ladybird Books Ltd, 1998

From Ladybird's famous 'Read it Yourself' series, we enjoy Ladybird Level 4 The Pied Piper of Hamelin, mainly due to John Holder's very eerie, spindly-legged depiction of rats, but also because the ending of this version of the adaptation, it's very creepy ( and memorable).  In the ending of this adaptation the Mayor is continuing to look for the children lost in the mountainside 'for years and years and years. He is still looking for them now.' Lack of text closure isn't so common in modern children's lit in the UK I think, and hence this ending feels quite haunting and memorable. The detailed hatching on the aged and wandering mayor is almost ethereal; Bert (5) always asks many hypotheticals in response to this image: 'will the major find the children one day?', 'what does the major eat now?', 'Is he sad about the rats and not paying the Pied Piper.' This endpage really surmises 'regret' as a theme, such an interesting concept to bring to young children. 

While Ladybird level 4 is designed as 'longer stories for more fluent readers', children's reading schemes today seem to press more on the vocabulary building rather than length of story, so emerging readers today might find this long winded. As a bedtime book, read by an adult, or fluent reader, it's enchanting. The rats are quite frightening, both in size, as the illustrator experiments well with perspective, getting some rat close ups in the foreground. 

The story is very moralistic, the mayor doing wrong by his people by not paying the Pied Piper and keeping to his promise. This mistake brings about sorrow and loss for a whole town, having their children taken from them, lead away as the rats were. In terms of folklore and fairytales, The Pied Piper is perhaps one of the most alarming, as there is no fantastical beast or mythical creature casting the spells or doing the capturing, but instead, something very everyday and immediate, a man. Fear is,  by its nature enthralling, and as such my children are captivated by this book.