Watership Down by Richard Adams

First published in 1972

I love this book. When I first read Watership Down (once again, a result of the fantastic children’s library at my old uni), it rose immediately to the top of my favourite books list and it has never really shifted. When I read it again recently, for the purposes of this blog, I was as hooked as when I read it the first time. None of the charm, the magic, was lost. I skipped gym classes because I had to keep reading. I was as invested and caught up in the story of Hazel and his rabbits as if I had never met them before. In fact I’d say Watership Down is one of the defining books that made me want to write my own stories for kids.

The level of invention here is inspiring. I feel like this book matters. And not just because of the supposed parallels between the world of Watership Down and what it might be saying about contemporary political and social states, especially at the time of publication. For me, the allegorical nature of the book has never been a deciding factor. All that stuff about tyranny and freedom, utopia and dystopia, the individual and the corporate state – yes, I can see where it might come from. But I don’t think Watership Down has these at its heart.

For me, it was always about the epic nature of the quest. I love a good journey story. I love all those epic themes of exile and survival and heroism and the banding together of all the character’s individual qualities to create something much larger than just a story about a group of rabbits. Watership Down has all this in droves. Every new scene, every new set-up, every new complication, is as compelling as the last. Who will make it through this time? Which rabbit will shine? What will be won, and lost?  I think Watership Down is far closer to Homer and Virgil than any political statement. This, for me, is where the book draws its power – by tapping into old myths and making the story about the heroes – who, in this case, just happen to be rabbits.

And what a fantastic bunch of rabbits. Out of the main bunch, we certainly get to know some more than others, but Adams still gives each rabbit a distinct personality, a quality, that enriches the story and the colony as a whole. I’ve always loved Bigwig. Who doesn’t? He is, quite simply, awesome. He is tough and no-nonsense and fierce, but also loyal and clever. He beats General Woundwort, mentally and physically. He has great spirit – I love his line: “silflay hraka, u embleer rah”. I also have a soft spot for Blackberry and Dandelion, and love that they get a chance to really shine in the final plan to defeat Woundwort. And the gull character – Kehaar – he is pretty awesome aswell.

And what I also love is that Adams, while clearly making Woundwort the enemy, does not make him a clear-cut evil character. Adams writes of him with admiration and dignity. He gives him reasons for being the tyrant he is, he makes Woundwort brave and clever and strong. At the end he is defeated, but there is the sense that he hasn’t really lost. And what a great choice to turn him into a ‘bogeyman’ (bogeyrabbit?) character at the end, still capable of frightening and drawing-into-line when need be.

I also love me some antrhomorphised characters. I love when an author can take a distinctly non-human character, and make them so familiar and so compelling. Adam’s rabbits live in their natural environment and do very rabbity things, but Adams gives all these rabbity things a very human reasoning. I love that they have their own language, culture, and mythology. It is fascinating. The figure of El-ahrairah (a sort of folk hero), looms large, and the inclusion of his many feats and tricks (as told by Dandelion) serves the main story well.

I also love Watership Down because it is so seamlessly plotted. The seeds of many events are planted chapters and chapters before; a small detail can pack a lot of meaning and interest the first time it is given, but then later on it will come to factor in such a large way and the pay-off is so rewarding. And none of it is clunky. Just clever and brilliant. And the love Adams had for the English countryside is also apparent, too.

Personally, I just think Watership Down is near perfection. The narrative is compelling on its own – both emotionally and suspense-wise. But then you add in how consistent, comprehensible and enthralling Adam’s world is, and the scope of it all is of the finest quality. Watership Down has my heart. You will never meet a more awesome bunch of rabbits. An absolutely beautiful story.

Previous entries, my fav Children's Books:

Number 20:  Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie

Number 19:  The Neverending Story by Michael Ende

Number 18:  Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt

Number 17:  The Toymaker by Jeremy de Quidt

Number 16: The Thirteen Clocks by James Thurber

Number 15: The Scarecrows by Robert Westall

A Witch in the Family, by Zilpha K. Snyder

First published in 1973 by Lutterworth Press

Also known as The Headless Cupid, A Witch in the Family is a short, breezy little book that depicts what happens when the Stanley children meet their new step-sister, Amanda. From the moment she arrives at Westerley House, with a crow and a horny toad, 'witchy' garb and her small upside-down smile, things begin to happen. Family things. Paranormal things. Growing-up things. For while Amanda announces she is studying the supernatural, the real story here is how the dynamics change when two families become one family, and everyone has some adjusting to do.

This book was recommended to me as a Newberry Honour book, and I really did enjoy it. The tone of the story-telling reminded me so much of the books I devoured as a kid - those sort of hidden away ones at the library which are always older than the rest and what I tended to resort to when I had read everything else or the book I wanted wasn't there. Of course, these are the ones which then kept me in the lounge room chair all weekend, and that is just what this book reminded me of - deceptively simple, funny, engaging writing for children, that is a joy to read and decipher.

I think this book won me over because I feel it captured how kids talk and relate to each other, and the little unit that is the Stanley children feels like a real set of siblings that squabble and play in the backyard together and know all the little things about each other that only siblings can know. When Amanda is introduced into this set, we see them being distrustful and awed and fascinated and accepting and negligent all at once, and watching them suss each other out is really quite delightful.

I like the way Snyder tells this story, there is just something very quaint and winning about the way she introduces ideas and scenes through the main character, David. Amanda has the potential to be quite unlikeable, and certainly her attitude in general doesn't make for the most charming of characters, but I think the way she is written is spot on. As an older reader looking back, I find all her little looks and snide remarks and the way she conducts herself so familiar, and can understand why she does it. And, of course, she does come right in the end.

As for the ending, I felt a little let down by it, maybe a bit cheated, but then Blair's last revelation made it alright again. A lovely little book that will both amuse and enchant, snap it up if ever you should be so lucky to find it.

When You Reach Me, by Rebecca Stead

First published (in Australia) by Text Publishing, 2010

A gem of a book – subtle, sensitive and lovely – I can see why it won the Newberry Prize in 2009. The biggest success is the central character; she is an absolute delight to read about. Miranda is precocious but never annoying, clever, curious and possessing an old soul that makes her moments of innocence so devastating, in a wonderful kind of way.

Miranda is a not-quite teen who finds herself in the middle of a puzzle. She is trying to get her head around mysterious notes and stolen belongings and somebody who seems to know everything that is about to happen before it’s even happened. And all this at a time when her best friend Sal has, without a reason, shut her out, and her Mum is about to go for a shot at money and fame on a TV game show.

When You Reach Me is in the mode of magical realism, with the emphasis, I think, on reality – the intricacies of friendship, the complexities of growing up and the moments that make us realise our childhood is coming to an end. This is a time both sad and beautiful: bewildering but precious because how we deal with it gives us clues to the adult we will become. This crossover between being a child and becoming an adult is really, I believe, what this book is dealing with, and it does it beautifully. What Miranda thinks and feels and the way she sees things and expresses herself is so spot on, so childlike but perceptive at the same time. I loved it.

The plot is also clever, and woven throughout the book quite splendidly. I was constantly wondering where the story was going and how it was all going to fit together and play out. The real joy is, of course, going with Miranda as she pieces it all together as well. I was not quite sold on the premise, or idea as a whole – maybe I found it a bit too neat, or... I don’t know. Something niggled at me, the tiniest bit. But it was not enough to destroy my overall enjoyment and appreciation of the book.

Read When You Reach Me for the gorgeous central character, insightful, aware story-telling and poignant capturing of what it means to be a child trying to make sense of the world.

"I sat on the couch and closed my eyes. I pictured the world. I pictured the world millions of years ago, with crazy clouds of gas everywhere, and volcanoes, and the continents bumping into each other and then drifting apart ... Now fast-forward. The earth is still making loops around the sun.There are humans all over the place, driving in cars and flying in aeroplanes. And then one day one human tells another human that he doesn't want to walk to school with her anymore.

'Does it really matter?' I asked myself.

It did."

2011 Newberry Medal Winner

The 2011 Newberry Medal was announced yesterday. The winner was Moon over Manifest, by Claire Vanderpool:

"Abilene Tucker feels abandoned. Her father has put her on a train, sending her off to live with an old friend for the summer while he works a railroad job. Armed only with a few possessions and her list of universals, Abilene jumps off the train in Manifest, Kansas, aiming to learn about the boy her father once was."

-From Random House

Confession: I don't know much about it. But I am reading last year's winner (When You Reach Me, by Rebecca Stead) at the moment, and finding it quite lovely and engaging.

The Newberry Medal is awarded every year by a committee of librarians to recognize "the most distinguished contribution to American literature for children."

Previous winners include Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book, Scott O Dell's Island of the Blue Dolphins, Robert C. O'Brien's Mrs Frisby and the Rats of Nimh and Katherine Paterson's Jacob Have I Loved and Bridge to Terabithia (all of which I highly reccommend).