I have been lucky enough to read many of my favourite children’s books with my children. Enid Blyton is always the go to for my generation, and it’s been fun re-discovering Moonface and Silky and J’s love of Saucepan man (and 1950s puritanism).
My favourite children’s book is not a book I read as a child – though I loved the old BBC serialisation. Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden is a rich and evocative celebration of the Yorkshire moors that brings me to tears every time. I adore the idea of a secret garden, I love sour-faced Mary (J is endlessly fascinated by a ten year old girl who doesn’t know how to dress herself,) and we both revel in Martha’s breezy chatter and the star character – the Yorkshire dialect itself. It’s too full of prose for today’s child – I skipped text when I read it to J, but its essence remains; friends, animals, trees, flowers, secrets and redemption.
What books did you love as a child? Are they the same children’s books you love now?