The Illustrated Harry Potter

Today was the day that the new, illustrated version of Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone was published, as far as I can see to pretty much universal acclaim. So obviously that means that I hate it.
I had misgivings when a colleague told me they were bringing one out.
"What does the world need it for?" Was my first reaction, so I was probably disinclined to like it from the start. Then I saw some of the work from it, and I really wish I hadn't.
The first picture I saw, long before the book was published was a picture of Harry looking about 7. It's to my mind a plump, rosy cheeked boy, looking nothing like the mistreated, under fed child that Petunia Dursley grudgingly allowed to sleep in her under stairs cupboard. Since then I've tried to ignore the fact that the book was going to be published, until today,  when I could ignore it no longer and it has lived up to my worst fears. I'm sorry to say it, but it's horrid. Horrid, horrid, horrid.
Why should I be so mean? Well I honestly don't like to. Let me first say that there has been an awful lot of hard work that has gone into the book, different styles of illustration, double page spreads, full portraits of the characters little illustrations sitting within the text, so I have to say a big well done for the work that has happened. Jim Kay is a very talented illustrator, which makes my criticism hard to reconcile. I just think it is all wrong
Because there are different styles of illustrations the book is disjointed. It looks like two, three or more artists have collaborated together to create the book and because of that it looks a mess. Some of the illustrations have echoes of Ralph Steadman, others of Hans Holbein, and it just doesn't look right. To my mind it looks like there was no ahesive concept about the overall style of the book. Some pictures look to have been lovingly painted, others just thrown in because they were needed, looking half finished. I know this isn't true, it's a deliberate style decision, but for me it just doesn't work.
To me the strongest pictures in the book are the landscapes. These actually tend to work rather well, there is a rather lovely one of a unicorn in the Forbidden Forest, which springs to mind and some rather decent ones of Hogwarts Castle itself. Another strong point is a lovely illustration of dragon eggs and a spread showing some of the different types of troll.
For me though, these high points are rare gems. The illustrations of the characters are a different matter entirely.
Now it may be that because I have read the books so many times I have a distinct view of what each character looks like (and that is nothing to do with the equally dire films) but because I am able to use my imagination I use the written descriptions and well you know the rest. In this book there are simply characters I am not familiar with.
Snape looks like a cross between Mark E Smith and Gollum with a sprinkle of childcatcher thrown in for good measure; Dumbledore looks like a dirty old man directly descended from a mixture of the famous portrait of Henry VII and Albert Steptoe, someone who would touch children rather than teach them; Ron looks odd, like his face has been stretched on a rack for a fortnight; Hermione like a sullen child who needs a damned good telling off; McGonagall looks bovine, certainly not the strict, clever witch from the text. I could go on, but I'm getting angrier just thinking about it.
I haven't updated this blog in over a year, but this has made me so genuinely upset that it's keeping me awake so I had to write down some of the thoughts I had about it. There will be many Potter fans who will love the book because it's Potter and everything about it is amazing. I love Potter and because of that fact, I hate this book.
JK Rowling gave us all a gift when she created the world of Potter. It feels like that gift has been taken away from me, and given to somebody else; someone with a different view of what that world looks like, and it's a view that I disagee with. Unfortunately I now can't get the illustrators view of the world out of my head. It's like my version of the world has been null and voided; because it's an official book, this is what the characters do look like and now I'm forced to change my impressions to another person's point of view.
The book is acting like a rather large dementor, sucking my happy thoughts of Potter, my own images of that beautiful, strange and exciting world out of my head, leaving only negativity there. It's colouring my view of Rowling's world and making it somewhere I don't care for visiting again.
There's a reason why some books should never be illustrated. This, I fear, is a rather fine example in point.

Half Bad

Whenever the potentially next big thing arrives, I always suffer from that ghastly phrase - mixed emotions.

1. I hope to enjoy it.
2. I fear I won't love it.
3. I long for it to be better than the last next big thing that I didn't really think that much of.
4. All those other emotions on holding a book for the first time that promises a lot, that I am too useless at expressing to bother to try.

Half Bad is the latest book to be hailed as the next big thing. It's written by a first time author, Sally Green. The main character in the book is Nathan Byrne. He's a witch. In this interesting and intriguing novel there are two types of witches living in the modern world, white witches and black witches; the white are good and the black are bad. Nathan is a half blood. His mother was a white witch and his father, well his father is Marcus; the baddest black witch known. Nathan's mother killed herself after he was born because of the affair she was having with Marcus, oh and he (Marcus) killed her husband and ate his living heart to steal his gift (or power). Nathan was brought up by his maternal grandmother and his half siblings, the eldest of whom cannot stand Nathan and delights in reminding him of his mixed heritage.

I'm not going to explain the plot any more as that would deprive anyone of the pleasure of reading this cracking novel. There. I've said it. It's good. In fact, it's very good.

Is it then, the next big thing?

Do you know what? It could be. It's a very engaging and yet gritty read. Nathan is put into some quite horrible situations and sometimes it's quite difficult to read, but in a good way. It's thoughtful and it has a distinctive style which makes it a real page turner. It's also not clear cut as to just who the bad guys are and this is by far the most successful of the books that have been out recently which I have read that have examined that premise.  I've seen reviews that have compared it to Twilight (it's far better than that) but I'm not sure it will get the same devotion that Meyer's series has. It's got an interesting world and will, unfairly get compared to things like Potter because it's about witches. These witches are very different and far less eccentric. The magic is less spellbooky and more instinctive, somehow more real though less complex. And that is a good thing.

That's the commercial thing dealt with it deserves to sell and to sell well, however on a personal basis, I enjoyed the book, but... and it's a rather large and very personal but... I didn't like Nathan. He isn't a character whom I felt any affection for and I feel like I should. There are times, when he's treated quite horribly by the white witches and I should be really empathising with him and I didn't. I wasn't cheering the white witches on by any means, I was rather horrified by them, but I wasn't willing Nathan on either; I was rather coolly detached from his plight and I should have been more concerned about him. I understand it's a major part of the story, but his devotion to his absent "misunderstood" father grated on me slightly and though this isn't a love story, the love aspect felt somehow unnecessary, however I am 20 years older than the target audience, I think they will lap it up, and this will undoubtedly be developed further in the sequel making it more relevant.

My quibbles with this book are trifles and very personal thoughts. They certainly shouldn't stop anyone from reading this book which I recommend rather highly indeed.

I wuv you...

There is a rather unfortunate trend at the moment in children's books that seems to think that children of five and under are suitable targets for that vilest of annual celebrations, namely Valentine's Day.
 Now to clear something up rather quickly I have no objection to people genuinely in love wishing to celebrate that (though quite why you need a specific day to do it rather than displaying it all throughout the year is slightly beyond my sphere of comprehension, but then I'm not an evil money making conglomeration) or to people who rather shyly wish to declare that they quite like someone and so desire to send them an anonymous message of admiration, then fine; go for it.
However, as soon as you start to create books specifically for children, who in many cases are too young to wipe their own noses properly, in order to introduce the concept of love for someone outside of the immediate family, then you are deliberately being creepy. The sort of person who is slightly inappropriate in a touching sort of way.
Now there are some rather lovely books about love for children, The obvious example is "Guess How Much I Love You" a rather beautiful story about two hares, which if you haven't read I really think you should. Ignore all the stuff which is in danger of making it tacky and get a copy of the original paperback and see how this is a wonderful picture book.
There are other lovely picture books which are stories where love features, but not many (A personal favourite is Ella by Alex T. Smith, a retelling of Cinderella with a Su Pollard inspired ladybird as the lead character, it's seriously delightful) But many of the new, original tales are just rather disturbing, they use ghastly euphemisms,  try to use sharing as a concept for love. It's wrong. Young children should be allowed to be children. A recent book I read started with the phrase, "Penguin was looking for love". What child of five is going to relate to that? Is a child of five going to copy Penguin and go out looking for love too? If they are they need to go into therapy. As do the publishers of this rubbish.
Seriously Valentine's books for children are wrong. Stop buying them and hopefully they'll stop publishing them.

Claude On The Slopes

I did a little whoop of delight when I came into work after a day off and discovered that the new Claude book was on the shelf. To say I was excited was an understatement. I danced a small jig and ran around the shop showing my colleagues who were no doubt fatigued by my giddiness, but they managed to humour me despite their probable overwhelming desire to sit on me just to keep me still.
Anyhow onto the book and it doesn't disappoint. I did things properly and sat down with a pot of tea (leaf assam of course) and a red velvet cupcake and tucked into Claude. The by now familiar opening settles you for another fun and exiting adventure. Claude On The Slopes starts the day before the actual adventure when Claude and Sir Bobblysock visit the library. Claude turns up to the library wearing his One Man Band outfit... But the very kind librarian, Miss Hush, explains to Claude how to behave in a library. So after being quiet, Claude needs a LOUD day and so uses his OUTDOOR VOICE a lot. It has snowed overnight and so Claude and Sir Bobblysock don their snow outfits and head off to the local winter sports centre. There's lots of fun with a snowman competition, meet Sidney Snood, a mountain rescuer with a quite splendid moustache, and Claude learns an important lesson about when to use his indoor and outdoor voice.
It's a lovely book, full of those original touches that make something really special. Adults will delight at some of the book titles in the library and the look on the face of the poor chappie who is rescued during the mountain recscue operation is priceless. Add to this the superb asides of Sir Bobblysock (bunions!) and, oh it's just wonderful. Buy it for any four, five or six year olds you know and enjoy it.
Just a small note. I discovered yesterday that Claude is going to be made into a television series. Part of me is elated, and part of me is worried. I hope that they do Claude justice, he deserves it and it will be wonderful to see him reach as wide an audience as possible. However I worry that the charm of the books will be lost in translation, that the inevitable spin off stories will be inferior to the originals and that overfamiliarity will breed if not contempt, then a little indifference. A television series initially did wonders for both Charlie and Lola and the Octonauts. A year later and they languish, rarely asked for on my shelves. I have no Wibbly Pig books in regular stock despite him being a regular on CBeebies and I have very few Kipper titles. I would hate for this to be Claude's fate, the books are too good for this to be allowed to happen.
One final point. I do hope that when the television series does come out some very clever marketing people make a soft toy of Claude, preferably with a removable beret, and one of Sir Bobblysock with his Larry Grayson glasses. That prospect truly excites me!

The One Hundred and One Dalmatians.

Nostalgia is a dangerous thing. Some things are never quite as you remember them, and when they are revisited you are left feeling disappointed and almost short changed that something you remember so fondly isn't actually at all as you remember it.
I'm rather pleased to say that The Hundred and One Dalmatians doesn't fall into this category. I first read it just shy of about 30 years ago when I was 7 or 8 and I was instantly entranced by it's language and it's wonderful inventiveness of the dogs world.
Very briefly the plot starts with two dalmatian dogs. Pongo and Missis who are recently married, and their pets, Mr and Mrs Dearly, who are also recently married. Shortly after this marriage Missis is due to have puppies. She has 15; a huge amount. Then we come to one of the greatest villains of children's literature. Cruella de Vil is a truly nasty piece of work and positively scary. Reading this again only last night, she still made me shiver slightly. Cruella loves furs. All sorts of furs, and she'd rather like a spotted dalmatian coat. As nasty a thought then as it is today.
In a distressing scene, the puppies are abducted. This leaves the adult dogs the task of launching one of, in my opinion, the greatest rescue missions ever written. Pongo and Missis guided by the twilight barking are able to discover the whereabouts of their puppies and make an epic journey to the place they are hidden. But are they able to get not only them, but 82 other puppies back to London in time for Christmas and avoid the horrible Cruella? Well it's a children's book. What do you think?
If you've only ever seen the Disney films, then I feel a little sorry for you. The book is umpteens times better, with more characters and a far scarier villainess, but it is the little touches that make this book so good. We only ever find the names of three of the puppies, but when the Cadpig is being revived by Mr Dearly, you really are rooting for the tiny pup.
It's a lovely book, full of period charm and yet even though it was written over 50 years ago, it's fresh and exciting. Egmont have also released a lovely hardback edition of the book which is rather splendid. The only disappointment is the illustrations. The current edition has a cartoony style which I dislike. I had a copy as a child with original editions and the images were far lovelier. Anyway that's a small complaint. Buy it, read it, love it. It really doesn't matter how old you are there's something in there for everyone.

More Than This

I was very, very excited when a proof of the new novel by Patrick Ness fell into my lap. I had seen pictures of it on Twitter and the book looks stunning, a black and white cross hatched book with a cut out on the front resembling a door where it is bright yellow and the title sits. My proof was just bright yellow and it looked striking and I wanted to dive right in and read it.

It came with a letter, where Ness says how writing about waking up abandoned had intrigued him for a while now. I rather got the impression that this book is rather personal,which makes me feel slightly bad for what I am about to say.

Anyway I started it and it was interesting, for about a couple of dozen pages. Then it got hard. Hard to read; hard to maintain interest; hard to stay with; just hard. The first part of the book deals with Seth who dies in the prologue. He drowns. He's of British origin but moved with his family to the Pacific Northwest. I was initially interested into how or why he drowned, but the book cuts away to how he is now, after he died and he's in an abandoned world which resembles his former home in the UK.
I'm not sure if it was this bleakness or the fact that it was the constant switching from Seth's life before he drowned to his "life" after he died, but it shames me to say that I lost interest. I found that I just didn't really care. I think the point was to be intrigued, alas I wasn't. Normally I fear that I would have given up at this point, but I really wanted to like this book; I wanted to carry on, even though I was struggling with it. Anyhow I battled on past part one and into part two, By now I took the hard decision to scan read. This was a hard decision because I was missing out on the prose which is so worth reading as it was quite beautifully written, but I just wasn't making any headway with the book. I'm not proud and willingly admit that beautifully written books are rather wasted on me. By scan reading I did miss out, but as I am very much a plot driven reader, I found the book far easier to engage with. 
I'm not going to say much else about the plot, except that it turns into more of a dystopian thriller in the middle and looks at some rather deep concepts. Seth's own story is in the end rather heartbreaking, and beautifully evoked. For me however it was just a little too long. In time I was intrigued with Seth and his story and I blame myself for not giving it my all.
In conclusion I would say More Than This is a book you really need to invest in if you are to read it; you really have to give it your all and if you do that I think that you will be richly rewarded. I fear that it is my own fault as a reader that I just didn't give enough to the book to get everything back. 

Claude in the Country

I'm not sure I've thoroughly communicated my deep love of the Claude books by Alex T. Smith. I simply adore them. They just tick so many boxes as they are ideal for the job that they do. They are funny, they have enough reading in them to satisfy confident readers, there is enough adult content to keep adults entertained without them getting bored through a staid story.
All the Claude books start in the same way be introducing Claude, Sir Bobblysock and Mr and Mrs Shinyshoes. As Claude In The Country starts our two chums are stuck inside because it had rained all day the day before. Sir Bobblysock has been writing his life story. I'm not convinced I can do this image justice, but he is sat at a typewriter wearing glasses on a chain. Just to remind you Sir Bobblysock is a sock. I regard this as complete and utter genius.
Our daring duo make it to the country where they meet a rather lovely farmer called Mrs Cowpat. Here Claude does all sorts of tasks for Mrs Cowpat. I particularly like the part where Claude goes horse riding but Sir Bobblysock decides to sit down and eat a chocolate eclair instead.
It is the day of the country fair and Claude has to wash Mrs Cowpat's pigs so that they are ready they go to the country fair. The pictures of the prizewinning vegetables and their winners are worth the price of the book alone. This is the sort of page that is innocent to children and rather amusing to adults. It's cheeky but rather fun.
The remainder of the story concerns a prize bull and a judge. Will Claude manage to be a hero again? Well I think that's a given, but they way it happens is so utterly charming and filled with fun that it really doesn't matter. Claude is a wonderful creation that I really can't recommend highly enough.