i see london, i see france...
Nov. 16th, 2009 03:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
intertribalFew things make me cringe/laugh more than British pop-literati upholding Enid Blyton as some kind of patron saint.
Let me tell you, I was given EB books as a gift when I was about eight (and they were actually in my dream last night, latest in a series of nightmares!) and I pretty much immediately figured out that they were the most horrible books I had ever read. They're awfully written, for one. Bad dialogue. Poorly paced. Totally uninteresting plots. Her stories can pretty much be summarized by Golly Gee and Goody Goody Gumdrops. You compare the Famous Five and Secret Seven to other British children's literature - like Wonderland and Peter Pan and Wind in the Willows and any and all Kipling and, my God, even Narnia - and it's remarkable how bad they are, just as plain ol' books.
And then there's the whole "social issues" thing. The first thing I noticed was the sexism, the whole "girls stay behind and boys go off to adventure" attitude, done totally straight-faced. Conform to your gender roles, George! But don't be too flirty or you're gonna end up raped like Jo. Then there was the hilariously over the top anti-American British nationalism (if I read that one farmhouse book where the evil Americans are stomping out cigarettes with their feet, I literally become more patriotic - you have to see it to believe it, really). I did learn some things from the books: learned about macaroons and kitchen middens and stilts, for instance. Also learned that British people are noble, and gypsies and "carnies" can't be trusted. I'm okay with some racism and sexism in books written when such views were the norm, but only when there's some kind of redeeming factor. I grew up on British lit, after all. But EB is formulaic claptrap. There is just no reason to put her in any kind of literary canon.
So I rack my brain wondering why, oh why the British defend her so. Whenever anybody talks about removing Blyton from a library (something that hasn't actually happened, but upstanding British newspapers like to feed the rumor-and-fear mill!), it's interpreted as some kind of national insult, as if Blyton represents all that is good and fair about Mother Britain. On the surface this is ridiculous, because why on Earth make Enid Blyton, of all people, your national torchbearer. But that is what EB was all about when it comes down to it - British imperialism, distilled through a very gullible and low-capacity brain. Same kind of pathetic yearning for old non-existent glory that turns Wimbledon into an annual clusterfuck. It can be hard to give up on imperial fantasies, sure. God knows America has not even acknowledged that it ever had them, let alone still does. OTOH, we don't have children's books reveling in our stomping all over the Philippines either. OTOH, we have a long, long ways to go before we move children's books' portrayals of Native Americans beyond "cowboys and Indians."
Like this commenter says: "The world of her characters was just an idyllic landscape where fun things seemed to happen."
Yes - like how the world used to be our playground before those nasty natives decided they wanted to be "independent."
Does Britain have no postcolonial awareness? I'm just asking.
But you know, I guess if The Guardian's readers look back fondly on the days of Pax Britannica and its social mores, that's fine for them. Let the old folks have their Battleship and Bingo while the rest of the world moves on. At least they're not putting people from their former colonies in ghettos (or are they?). What's really sick and sad is that EB is still widely-read in former British colonies, where it was no doubt aggressively pushed - the reason kids in those countries grow up giving their own characters ye olde British names. Makes me thankful that the Dutch didn't install Dutch as Indonesia's national language. I think the Dutch in general need the least therapy as far as colonizer countries go, and the British and French need the most.
I'm not going to encourage my kids to read EB. If they come home with it from the library, I'd let them read it, but quite frankly, I'd want a talk. Just like I would if they brought home the original Rin Tin Tin. Should EB be banned? No - I'm not a supporter of book banning. I think Germany banning Nazi-related anything was a bad idea. I have less of a problem with the U.S. banning The Turner Diaries because it's so instructional, but I still don't think anything should be banned. I think people should be made aware of what all is out there. But I'm not going to weep because BBC didn't give her any exposure. That's not book-banning and it's hardly book-burning. She still sold millions of books to unsuspecting children worldwide. It's just ignoring her. Note that BBC did this because they didn't think EB's books had any literary value - and on this the BBC was absolutely right.
Let me tell you, I was given EB books as a gift when I was about eight (and they were actually in my dream last night, latest in a series of nightmares!) and I pretty much immediately figured out that they were the most horrible books I had ever read. They're awfully written, for one. Bad dialogue. Poorly paced. Totally uninteresting plots. Her stories can pretty much be summarized by Golly Gee and Goody Goody Gumdrops. You compare the Famous Five and Secret Seven to other British children's literature - like Wonderland and Peter Pan and Wind in the Willows and any and all Kipling and, my God, even Narnia - and it's remarkable how bad they are, just as plain ol' books.
And then there's the whole "social issues" thing. The first thing I noticed was the sexism, the whole "girls stay behind and boys go off to adventure" attitude, done totally straight-faced. Conform to your gender roles, George! But don't be too flirty or you're gonna end up raped like Jo. Then there was the hilariously over the top anti-American British nationalism (if I read that one farmhouse book where the evil Americans are stomping out cigarettes with their feet, I literally become more patriotic - you have to see it to believe it, really). I did learn some things from the books: learned about macaroons and kitchen middens and stilts, for instance. Also learned that British people are noble, and gypsies and "carnies" can't be trusted. I'm okay with some racism and sexism in books written when such views were the norm, but only when there's some kind of redeeming factor. I grew up on British lit, after all. But EB is formulaic claptrap. There is just no reason to put her in any kind of literary canon.
So I rack my brain wondering why, oh why the British defend her so. Whenever anybody talks about removing Blyton from a library (something that hasn't actually happened, but upstanding British newspapers like to feed the rumor-and-fear mill!), it's interpreted as some kind of national insult, as if Blyton represents all that is good and fair about Mother Britain. On the surface this is ridiculous, because why on Earth make Enid Blyton, of all people, your national torchbearer. But that is what EB was all about when it comes down to it - British imperialism, distilled through a very gullible and low-capacity brain. Same kind of pathetic yearning for old non-existent glory that turns Wimbledon into an annual clusterfuck. It can be hard to give up on imperial fantasies, sure. God knows America has not even acknowledged that it ever had them, let alone still does. OTOH, we don't have children's books reveling in our stomping all over the Philippines either. OTOH, we have a long, long ways to go before we move children's books' portrayals of Native Americans beyond "cowboys and Indians."
Like this commenter says: "The world of her characters was just an idyllic landscape where fun things seemed to happen."
Yes - like how the world used to be our playground before those nasty natives decided they wanted to be "independent."
Does Britain have no postcolonial awareness? I'm just asking.
But you know, I guess if The Guardian's readers look back fondly on the days of Pax Britannica and its social mores, that's fine for them. Let the old folks have their Battleship and Bingo while the rest of the world moves on. At least they're not putting people from their former colonies in ghettos (or are they?). What's really sick and sad is that EB is still widely-read in former British colonies, where it was no doubt aggressively pushed - the reason kids in those countries grow up giving their own characters ye olde British names. Makes me thankful that the Dutch didn't install Dutch as Indonesia's national language. I think the Dutch in general need the least therapy as far as colonizer countries go, and the British and French need the most.
I'm not going to encourage my kids to read EB. If they come home with it from the library, I'd let them read it, but quite frankly, I'd want a talk. Just like I would if they brought home the original Rin Tin Tin. Should EB be banned? No - I'm not a supporter of book banning. I think Germany banning Nazi-related anything was a bad idea. I have less of a problem with the U.S. banning The Turner Diaries because it's so instructional, but I still don't think anything should be banned. I think people should be made aware of what all is out there. But I'm not going to weep because BBC didn't give her any exposure. That's not book-banning and it's hardly book-burning. She still sold millions of books to unsuspecting children worldwide. It's just ignoring her. Note that BBC did this because they didn't think EB's books had any literary value - and on this the BBC was absolutely right.
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no subject
Date: 2009-11-16 10:11 pm (UTC)I have met really few Americans who read her as a kid, and really, really REALLY few your age! I myself never read her as a kid. How'd you come across her? Did you grow up overseas? Probably you have mentioned, but I forgot. (I do remember about your dad, but not where you guys lived...)
My (English) husband read and enjoyed the adventure stories as a kid. As he got older, he understood about the sad social prejudices they had, but he still remembered the adventures as being fun. There were a few hanging around my parents-in-laws' place when we lived with them, and my impression was that they were just formulaic adventure stories, like Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys (but I wouldn't know for sure; I only ever read one Nancy Drew book and didn't like it).
But honestly, I had never even heard of her until I met my husband. I don't think you have to worry about your kids coming home with her books!
no subject
Date: 2009-11-16 10:24 pm (UTC)Yes, Indonesia. They weren't popular there, but I think my (U.S.-educated, Indonesian) uncle bought them for me, possibly in one of the Western bookstores, because I think he'd read them to improve his English or something. My parents weren't familiar with them, and I remember my mother getting really annoyed at the way the books presented Americans.
Yeah, I didn't really get that the adventures were fun, but I also disliked the one Nancy Drew I read.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-16 10:38 pm (UTC)Let me take a moment to let my 10-year-old self indulge in a little envy. Luckeeeeey.
Okay, back to more mature, grown-up me. luckeeey
When you got here, did all the kids your age just seem amazingly insular? (What age were you when you got here? Or did you only come over for college? In which case, how'd you end up in Nebraska?)
I remember being in seventh grade and meeting--only then, for the first time--someone else who was interested in foreign cultures. Turned out her dad worked for the UN, and she had lived in Liberia and Burma (as it was then known...). We were friends for a year before she got shipped off to Chile for her dad's next assignment. (As for me, I lived my entire childhood in upstate New York, which is why I hightailed it to Japan after college.)
(icon is Rani Lakshmi Bai, who is super-cool)
no subject
Date: 2009-11-16 10:59 pm (UTC)I came to the U.S., to Nebraska, when I was 11 (after my dad died - mom's relatives were in Nebraska/Kansas/Louisiana). So I went to middle and high school in NE. I will say that I was sort of thrown by kids not knowing where Indonesia was, or mistaking it with India, for awhile. But I wanted so badly to fit in and be normal that I didn't judge anyone that harshly. I forgot a lot of Indonesia-stuff during those years, besides.
But um, my mom grew up in a teeny town in Kansas and hightailed it to Indonesia after college, so I understand the impulse.
Yes, I know - vaguely! - of her! I remember reading about her when I was trying to compile a list of women warriors for a story.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-16 11:09 pm (UTC)Any good heroines from Indonesia?
no subject
Date: 2009-11-17 12:16 am (UTC)A couple. Raden Ajeng Kartini (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kartini) is the official national heroine - she was the incredibly smart daughter of an aristocrat who wrote epistles gently arguing for mass literacy, women's rights, and freedom from the Dutch. More dramatic is Srikandi, the Indonesia-only mythological wife of Arjuna, who "won" him by winning an archery contest, and is the only warrior woman in the (Hindu-Indonesian) pantheon. My mom played her when she did Javanese dance.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-17 05:19 am (UTC)I liked this:
Because Kartini could speak Dutch, she acquired several Dutch pen friends.
And way to go Srikandi! It's funny--I was going to say that I bet there was going to be some figure from epics that would come to mind, but I didn't guess it would be an Indonesia-only character add-on for the Mahabharata. Ancient fanfic!
no subject
Date: 2009-11-17 12:19 am (UTC)Your post: That all seems perfectly fair comment to me. Have you see the TV parody Five Go Mad in Dorset done by the Comic Strip (Dawn French, Jennifer Saunders, Adrian Edmondson, others)?
I quite enjoyed EB's Secret Seven novels when I was a certain age. A few years later I picked one up nostalgically and was aghast at the astonishing badness of the writing.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-17 12:45 am (UTC)Well, the fact that The Famous Five made an impression on me says something - I must have enjoyed the stories enough to want to know what happened next. But I remember feeling that these stories were "not for me" fairly acutely, and I remember being unimpressed by the writing. I only read one Secret Seven book and I don't remember much about it, except there were a loooot of kids whose names I couldn't remember.
What's your impression of how EB is regarded within Britain?
no subject
Date: 2009-11-17 02:46 am (UTC)What's your impression of how EB is regarded within Britain?
I think there's a whole lot of misplaced nostalgia going on right now about her stuff, to be honest -- you know, in the same way that folk hanker after the Golden Age That Never Was, so they look back on their childhood experiences with Blyton books through a warm and golden fog that obscures the reality that the best thing about them was they were there -- all over the place, in fact -- when you'd run out of anything better to read.
Me, although as noted I liked the Secret Seven over a particular summer, I thought the Famous Five sucked (George was interesting but the others were real wets) and I could never stand Noddy, somy heartstrings are remaining kind of unplucked during the current revival fervour.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-17 02:56 am (UTC)I never read Noddy, and I agree that George is the most interesting character in the Famous Five. The "fifth" was a dog, right?
no subject
Date: 2009-11-17 03:16 am (UTC)That's right -- Timmy, I think. I think the two boys were called Peter and Dick, but they were both intensely boring. So was Anne, who acted like the kind of ghastly older sister you sympathized with your friends when they had one; on the other hand, the illustrations betrayed that Anne might not be entirely featureless under her poloneck, which meant she did have a certain allure -- at least to a seven-year-old male.
As you might imagine, French and Saunders were perfect as George and Anne.