More Books in Oxford

Dear Eleven-Year-Old Me,

In a few months time, you’re going to start secondary school, and you’re terrified because you don’t want to get lost and be in trouble for being late. But that’s ok, because you’re going to meet a girl called Liza, and she’s going to recommend that you read Harry Potter. You’re going to read it, and you’re quickly going to become obsessed. Nana will buy you all of the books; she’ll buy you the first one from the bookshop in Oldham, and she’ll buy the fourth from Woolworths in Cheetham Hill, and then she’ll go on a hunt for hardback copies of two and three. Three still has the tear in the cover, by the way. She bought it like that, it was the last one in WHSmith, and you’ve looked after it so well that the tear never got any bigger. Then, when you were old enough for midnight releases, she gave you the money to pre-order and buy the books.

When you’re thirteen, you’re going to have a day off school because your cousin Andrea had spare tickets for an advance preview of the first film. You and your mum went with her, and you were so excited that you literally vomited when you got home. (I’ve still got all the cinema tickets, and the chocolate frog wrapper from that cinema trip, don’t worry. I love the gold glittery gel pen, by the way. Very “Mancunian chav”, as one of my current housemates pointed out.)

Fourteen years after that first trip to see the first film, you’re going to take these photographs, and you’re going to realise that, at thirteen years old, you would never have imagined being in this spot and taking them:

Of course, you don’t need to be reminded of what these photographs are of. But here are some pictures for everyone else who does need that reminder:

You’re going to do a physics degree. And that physics degree is (eventually) going to lead you to a PhD that is sponsored by Culham Centre for Fusion Energy. Which is just outside of Oxford. This week, I stayed in one of the Colleges, as it is Easter and the University rooms are available to the public during the holidays. Without even realising the significance, I chose to stay in Christ Church College, and was immediately made aware that it was used for filming in the first two Harry Potter films. Particularly the staircase. An hour ago, at 1am, I got back to the college after an evening of drinking, passed the “closed to visitors” signs, and took the above photographs, which I then sent to my housemates and cousins, who I am sure will appreciate being woken up by their phones, especially for Harry Potter.

If you ever doubt your decision to study physics, just remember, it will lead you to spending a lot of time in Oxford. Getting emotional over benches and staircases.

Lots of love,

Your 27-year-old future self.

P.S. You’ll go to see Philip Pullman give a talk at the Sheldonian Theatre on Saturday 28th March 2015, to mark the 20th(!!!) anniversary of His Dark Materials. Don’t be ashamed when you hyperventilate and wet yourself. it’s going to happen, might as well accept it.

A Book Of Dreams has been republished!

Towards the end of last year, I wrote a blog post about Peter Reich’s A Book Of Dreams, the story that inspired Kate Bush’s Cloudbusting. I have been renewing the University of York’s copy of this book for a while now, but I won’t have to any more, as the book has recently been republished! With a new introduction by Peter Reich! Here is the Amazon link for anyone who is interested: A Book Of Dreams

There is also a competition on www.katebushnews.com, where they will be giving away five copies. See their website for more details. Obviously, I’ve entered.

‘Cloudbusting’ was inspired by a book that I found in a shop […] written by a guy called Peter Reich, and it’s called A Book of Dreams. And it’s a very unusual, beautiful book, written by this man through the eyes of himself when he was a child, looking at his father, and the very special relationship between them. His father meant so much to him. – Kate Bush

She’s definitely going to do more live shows. She’s going to come to Manchester just for me.

Goodbye Wildwood

Writing this post will possibly mean that I’ve written more about children’s fiction on this blog than any other type of fiction. This doesn’t bother me too much, though when I finally get around to writing something of my own, it will most likely end up as children’s fiction by accident. I don’t really mind this either; the books you read/have read to you as a child can often have a large impact on your development and, in some cases, the kind of person you grow to be. Since that is the case, I can’t wait to read these books to my brothers’ children, and any other children that happen to my friends and family in the future.

To set the scene: During my undergraduate degree, I was introduced to a band called The Decemberists. They were almost forced on me, and if someone is forcing a book or some music on you it either means that you really should pay attention, or they just have problems (my obsession with Kate Bush is an example of both). Fortunately for me, it was the former, though it took me a while to pay this band any real attention. But when I finally did, oh my word, I’d found a musical love for LIFE. They were the perfect soundtrack for my walks home from my secondary school placement during my teacher training; I lived in Leeds, and my walk home every evening in the spring and summer involved a walk past Kirkstall Abbey. I’d listen (mostly) to The Hazards of Love (a 4-sided concept album about a shapeshifting boy, with a wickedly jealous fairy queen mother, who falls in love with a girl from outside), walk through this very picturesque part of Leeds, and wish I could write stories even half as good as they did. They are musical storytellers who regularly use phrases such as “panoply of song” and make it sound natural. The first time I saw them in Leeds, Colin Meloy told us all to take the final song home, put it to bed, maybe make it some scrambled eggs in the morning. Which I did.

Kirkstall Abbey in Leeds. Patrick Brontë proposed to Maria Branwell here. Everybody has heard of their children.

A year later, and it turned out that Colin Meloy and his wife Carson Ellis (who is responsible for all of the incredible Decemberists artwork) had been working on a book. A series of books. For children. This was very exciting. I couldn’t wait to find out what someone capable of telling such amazing stories within songs could do with an actual book. And the label of “children’s fiction” in this instance implied an awful lot of freedom. In 2012, I read the first book, Wildwood.

Wildwood, Colin Meloy and Carson Ellis

At the time, I remember finding the experience of reading this book to be very similar to the experience of listening to The King Is Dead, the last album released by The Decemberists before Wildwood was released. There were certain phrases that cropped up, and a general atmosphere, that made the whole thing utterly wonderful. It begins with an abduction by crows; eleven year old Prue McKeel is out with her baby brother, when he is unexpectedly kidnapped by them and carried of into the Impassable Wilderness (I.W.). The I. W. is located in Portland, and while it is a very conspicuous patch of woodland, it isn’t given much thought by the locals. Prue sets off to rescue her brother, accidentally joined along the way by her classmate Curtis. They are separated and both have very different adventures; Prue eventually incites a rebellion, while Curtis follows a path very similar to that of Edmund in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. One of the best things about this series is that, while it does occasionally use familiar plot devices like “the evil witch charms a main character into taking part in evil deeds”, it uses them to very good effect. They don’t feel tired like they might do under a different author; Wildwood is the kind of place in which you expect these things to happen, it would feel weird and forced if they didn’t. The reader knows that Curtis is being an idiot, but at the same time, Curtis is a very average young boy that a lot of other average-feeling young boys and girls will relate to. Maybe they’ll read it and think, that could happen to me (if I accidentally entered a magical world and was manipulated by a beautiful, evil queen).

The adventures of Prue and Curtis continue in two more volumes, Under Wildwood and Wildwood Imperium.

Book Two, Under Wildwood

The third book, Wildwood Imperium

Under Wildwood begins to introduce more characters, including Curtis’ sisters Rachel and Elsie. Which brings me to an important point; there is a veritable cornucopia of intelligent, brave and all-around well-thought-out female characters in this series. You might want to read this to your children once you’ve read them The Wind In The Willows, just to balance out the lack of girls there (The Wind In The Willows is still one of my favourite books of all time, by the way, but it is nice to read books where there are more girls than just a couple of washer-women). In fact, just the wealth and breadth of characters in this series is impressive; talking rats, bands of Bandits, shape-shifting foxes, an old man with wooden eyes…

Which brings me to the next thing I love about this series; the danger always feels very real. Colin Meloy has definitely not shied away from the scarier side of adventuring. The climax of the first book includes a battle taking place while someone is attempting to sacrifice a child to the ivy (if you read this to a child, be aware that they may develop a lifelong fear of ivy afterwards). Bandits and Coyotes carry sabres and cutlasses. There are cannons. Characters die. The old man with wooden eyes is actually one of the nice characters in the book, one of the good guys, but his wooden eyes provide a very sinister first impression that makes the reader very suspicious. Especially considering everything that Curtis’ sisters had been through up to the point where they first meet Carol. If I had read these books as a child, I would have loved the fact that the author trusted me with a story like this. “Here, if it is scary, don’t read it, but make your own judgements, and maybe learn something along the way about how you come to make those judgements about people in the first place.” It is also a very long series; all of the books are well over 300 pages. Again, as a child, I would have loved a hefty story like that. It implies a level of respect between the author and the intended reader. It’s a challenge; a fun one that encourages going back through earlier chapters and the previous books.

The Wildwood Chronicles are illustrated by the amazingly talented Carson Ellis. Reading this series was a very similar experience to reading The Edge Chronicles in that the story and the illustrations fit together seamlessly. You can’t imagine one without the other. If you’re from the UK and over the age of twenty-five, you may remember some books from primary school about The Village With Three Corners, where lived the Blue Hats, The Red Hats, and The Yellow Hats. Carson Ellis’ work instantly reminded me of those old books, and a lot of similar books that I read at a very young age; just like The Decemberists’ song lyrics, they feel like they’re older than they really are. The images are soft and detailed, and create an atmosphere that makes it easy to believe in these strange people and places. Books in which the author and illustrator have worked so closely together that the images fit perfectly are rare, which makes this series even more special.

Just over a month ago, I received possibly the best post I’ve ever had in my life: The Decemberists’ new album, and a copy of Wildwood Imperium. I finished Wildwood Imperium this evening, two weeks after seeing The Decemberists live again (it was possibly ((absolutely)) the best gig I’ve ever been too, and if you get the opportunity to go and see them live, I’d highly recommend it). It’s been over a month of Decemberists, and three years of Wildwood, and I’m sad that the books are now over. I’m very much looking forward to sharing the immersive, sometimes frightening, but always exciting world of Wildwood.