Upper fourth at Malory Towers (by Enid Blyton)

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In the past few decades I’ve dipped somewhat randomly into Enid Blyton books from time to time, particularly the school stories. But this year I’ve been reading the Malory Towers books in order, at around one per month. I was surprised how much I enjoyed ‘Third year at Malory Towers’ in July; I’ve just finished (almost in one sitting) the fourth book, ‘Upper fourth at Malory Towers’, which I last read in 2015.

I’m familiar with most of the storylines, of course; I read these books almost every year when I was a teenager; but with more than ten years since my last read, I had forgotten a lot of the details.

This is the year when Darrell’s sister Felicity finally gets to go to Malory Towers. She’s been ill - we don’t know what the problem was - so her first term is the summer term, Darrell’s last in the upper fourth form. Darrell is very excited about showing her sister around, so feels a bit annoyed when Alicia’s young cousin June decides to take Felicity under her wing. 

Third year at Malory Towers (by Enid Blyton)

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I loved Enid Blyton books as a child. I discovered more of them as I approached my teenage years, and as a teenager my favourites were the three school series. I liked them all, but Malory Towers had the edge. As an adult I would still occasionally dip into one or two of them for ‘comfort’ reading. I’d almost forgotten about them when my young granddaughter discovered them as audio-books. 

So, as I’ve been rereading many of my favourite authors over the past seven or eight years, I decided to reread Enid Blyton. I read and enjoyed ‘Second form at Malory Towers’ last month, and have just finished its sequel, ‘Third year at Malory Towers’, which I last read over twelve years ago. 

Darrell is the main character again; she’s now fourteen, and is in the third form, with Miss Peters as form mistress. Her best friend Sally is in quarantine, and her parents have agreed to pick up a new girl, an American called Zerelda whose grandmother is a friend of Darrell’s grandmother. 

Second form at Malory Towers (by Enid Blyton)

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I re-read the first Malory Towers book in Enid Blyton’s series for teenage girls about a month ago, so in the last 24 hours I’ve re-read the second. Apparently I last read ‘Second form at Malory Towers’ as recently as December 2022 but I haven’t reread the rest of the series for considerably longer. So for the sake of continuity I read this book again - and, despite the relatively short time since I last read it, I had forgotten a lot of the detail.

Unlike many school series, Malory Towers dips into its heroine (Darrell Rivers)’s school career at a rate of just once per year. At the start of this book she’s thirteen, and about to go into the second form. School forms back in the 1940s were much more random than they are now; Darrell’s second form is probably equivalent to today’s Year Eight, or thereabouts. Age was only one criteria for being moved up; academic ability was also taken into account. 

So Darrell and her friend Sally have a new teacher - Miss Parker - as their form mistress, and she’s reputed to be rather stricter than Miss Potts. Sally is made head girl of the year, much to Alicia’s dismay. Alicia is usually top of the class, and has been at the school rather longer than Darrell and Sally. But she has quite a harsh character and doesn’t look kindly on anyone who struggles with school, or who has difficulties of any kind. 

First term at Malory Towers (by Enid Blyton)

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I finished rereading the ‘St Clare’s’ series by Enid Blyton in March last year, and decided to take a break from Blyton books for a while. But I spotted the Malory Towers books on my shelves; they were my absolute favourite as a teenager, when I would read them yearly. I realised that I did reread ‘First term at Malory Towers’ as recently as December 2022, but I didn’t subsequently read most of the rest of the series. So I decided to start over. 

Despite having read this book probably dozens of times over the past fifty-five years, I had forgotten the early chapters, and a lot of the details. So I enjoyed it over again. It’s a quick read - intended for girls aged 9-11 originally, with around 150 pages. I’m not sure quite why I like these books so much; they’re not the greatest writing, and are somewhat formulaic. Many of the characters are somewhat caricatured, too.

But they’re still good stories, at least in my view. This one features 12-year-old Darrell Rivers, who is a new girl at a boarding school in Cornwall, Malory Towers. We see her saying goodbye to her mother at the railway station, then meeting some of the girls in her form on the way there. She’s a fairly sensible girl who has been looking forward to going to this school for a long time. 

Fifth formers at St Clare's (by Enid Blyton)

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It’s over thirty years since I last read ‘Fifth formers at St Clare’s’, the sixth and final book by Enid Blyton in her series about the St Clare’s boarding school. I re-read the first five over the past few months, and on the whole liked them very much. The first four take place over four consecutive terms, with the twins Pat and Isabel O’Sullivan the main characters. Then the books take leaps forward, sometimes more than a year.

The twins don’t in fact feature much in this book, as they have turned into hard-working, likeable people who don’t stir up trouble. They’re not super-talented in any way, and they’re still close to each other so, naturally, they share a study. For fifth formers are allowed to share two-person studies from their second term in the fifth. 

There’s a new girl called Anne-Marie who claims to be a poet, but who writes rather flowery rhyming phrases that are somewhat meaningless. There’s also a girl called Felicity who has only just moved up from the fourth form, because she’s a musical prodigy and her parents are pushing her to work harder at her music. But she’s older than most of the fifth form already. And there’s Alma, who is an unfortunate caricature. She’s overweight with poor skin, and she can’t stop eating. She’s also rather mean and petty, and nobody likes her. She has been moved down from the sixth form, but can’t keep up with even the fifth form work.

Angela, the wealthy, boastful girl of ‘Claudine…’ is sharing a study with Alison, and taking advantage of the way that younger girls can be asked to do little jobs for them. Mirabel shares with Gladys, who has been her best friend for years. Gladys is made deputy sports captain, and has some good suggestions. But power goes to Mirabel’s head, and she becomes more and more authoritarian and bossy, forgetting that not everyone actually likes sports.

Claudine, Mam’zelle’s niece, is slowly developing what they call the ‘English’ sense of honour - Blyton was oddly prejudiced against almost anyone who wasn’t solidly English, or at least from the UK. Claudine is a likeable person, and her sister is now at school; Antoinette is in the second form, and is similar to Claudine at that age, with a strong sense of integrity which doesn’t quite match with the British girls’ ideas of right or wrong.

The ages of girls in the forms are quite confusing. This series was written in the 1940s, long before standardisation of class ages. It’s clear that when Pat and Isabel start in the first book, they’re fourteen and in the first form. They remain in that form for three terms - one year - but many of their classmates have been there longer than they have. In the fourth book - 'Second form at St Clare’s' - they are 15, and with most of their friends have moved up. 

Then in the fifth book, ‘Claudine at St Clare’s’, the twins and their classmates are about to start in the fourth form, so they must be 16 or 17; it’s not clear how long they spend in either the second or the third form. And in this final one, they’re in their second term in the fifth form, so presumably 17 or 18. But, a little confusingly, it’s the autumn/winter term, which would normally be the start of a school year. They all take a big exam towards the end, and are all expected to move up to the sixth form in January.

However there’s little point digging too deeply into their ages or how long each of them have been in each form. Enid Blyton didn’t explain, and in that pre-computer era it must have been difficult to keep track of who was whom. Indeed, that might account for one of the slightly puzzling features of this book, in that Mirabel - who turned out to be a gifted musician in one of the earlier books - is now the sports captain. 

It’s a good mixture of characters, and there are some interesting incidents as inevitable clashes occur.  I found myself quite engrossed, almost unable to put the book down at times. There’s a very funny scene, too, when the second form are having a midnight feast, and Mam’zelle thinks she hears burglars…. 

The last chapter is perhaps a bit predictable when some of the staff meet to discuss who will be the new head girl next term, when the fifth formers move up to the sixth. The head girl was a significant figure in some of the earlier books, but the sixth formers are barely mentioned in this book, other than to say that none of them is suitable to be the sports captain.

The writing, as with most of Enid Blyton’s books, is well-paced with some good characterisation (albeit caricatured in several cases). It’s not the greatest prose, and there are authorial asides, but then she wrote a phenomenal number of books in her lifetime. 

As a teenager I was quite disappointed that this turned out to be the final ‘St Clare’s’ book. I have learned that there are three extra books, written by someone else but in the same style, including one that shows the twins and their friends in the sixth form. I’m not in any hurry to get hold of them, but if I come across them in a charity shop, I’d be interested to read them. Two of them are set before 'Fifth formers', so this is sometimes counted as the eighth out of nine books. 

These books were originally intended for girls aged about 9-14.  The books are easy to read and have been republished many times, so apparently they’re still appealing to today’s children. My granddaughter started listening to them (in an excellent audiobook format) when she was seven, and loved them. But I suspect that the main audience is adults like me who recall them nostalgically from childhood. 

I enjoyed ‘Fifth formers at St Clare’s’, most of which I had entirely forgotten. But although it technically stands alone, it’s best read as part of the series. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Claudine at St Clare's (by Enid Blyton)

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As a child I read and re-read several of the series by Enid Blyton. But the ones I liked best were the three school series: St Clare’s, Malory Towers and the Naughtiest Girl. I’ve been re-reading my way through them gradually in recent months, and a little surprised to find that I still like them, even from the perspective of a grandmother rather than a younger teenager. 

I last read ‘Claudine at St Clare’s in 2014; but I must have read it many times as a child and teen, so the people and storylines were still familiar to me. I’d forgotten some of the names and details, however. This book leaps forward a couple of years from ‘Second form at St Clare’s’, which I reread in January. The twins and their friends must be sixteen or seventeen by now, and about to join the fourth form. They were fourteen when they joined St Clare’s. Some of their classmates have left; those that remain are supposed to be harder working and more focussed. 

There are four new girls in the fourth form. Angela is very pretty and graceful, and knows it. She boasts of her wealthy, lovely parents and her huge home, and wants to be praised. Alison, who is still a bit feather-brained, latches onto Angela and admires her. Then there’s Pauline, who isn’t so attractive but has more brains than Angela. She also boasts of a wealthy family and huge home, although her clothes are not as well-made as Angela’s. 

The third new girl, Eileen, is not much liked by anyone, though they feel sorry for her too. She’s a bit nervous, and is the daughter of a new Matron whom nobody likes. The usual Matron has been ill, so Eileen’s mother has taken her place, but she’s quite mean and doesn’t seem to care anything for the girls. Eileen tells her when anyone is unpleasant to her, and Matron has her revenge. Eileen has a brother whom she adores, and sneaks out to see him at times.

Then there’s Claudine, niece of Mam’zelle, and similar to her in some (mostly caricatured) respects. Her English is very good, albeit with some odd sentence structures and misuse of cliches, and she’s friendly with a good sense of humour. The girls mostly like her (other than Angela, who looks down on her and Eileen) but find some of her behaviour a bit morally dubious. Enid Blyton tended to stereotype anyone who wasn’t English, and Claudine struggles to understand the British sense of ‘honour’, that separated mischief from dishonourable behaviour. She hates going outside, and refuses to swim, but she is excellent at needlework. 

Most of the story revolves around the classroom, with some arguments, difficulties in lessons, tricks played and tensions between girls. There’s a midnight feast, a half-term break, and an accident which is the catalyst for some changes. It’s fast-paced, and once I’d started it was hard to put it down, even though I mostly knew what was coming. 

I have to admit that the writing isn’t the greatest. The opening paragraphs of the first chapter are a bit unnecessary, in my view. The twins arrive at the school after the summer holidays and make some rather pointless conversation. I realise this was designed to introduce new readers to the school, and let old readers know about some of the girls who have left St Clare’s. But it feels quite artificial to have Pat telling Isabel about their friends, and Isabel apparently unaware. 

It’s a minor quibble, though. I’m sure I didn’t notice that when I read the book as a child, and once I’d got into the book I could easily forgive some of the rather basic writing or author asides that ‘tell’ rather than ‘showing’. Despite these issues, the characters are really quite well-developed; I always liked the quiet, thoughtful Isabel and her more outgoing twin. I appreciated Hilary, who was the head of the class more than once, and who is good at taking responsibility. And I like the way that Alison has matured over the years, even though she has this strange tendency to develop schoolgirl crushes on anyone who is particularly attractive or rich. 

The books were written in the 1940s but remain mostly in print, in various editions. I was a little surprised to learn this, as I thought that most readers of these books nowadays were adults like myself who enjoyed them when we were younger. But I understand that younger people like them too. Not necessarily teenagers, but younger readers. Ten years ago, a nine-year-old friend regularly borrowed them, and liked them very much. Now I have an eight-year-old granddaughter who loves listening to audio-books of Enid Blyton’s school stories. So I’m delighted that they’re still appealing to at least some of the younger generation. 

Recommended on the whole if you like this genre, and don’t mind Enid Blyton’s style. But it’s best to have read the earlier books in the series first.

 Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

The second form at St Clare's (by Enid Blyton)

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Since I reread - and enjoyed - the first three ‘St Clare’s’ books by Enid Blyton in the past few months, I decided to try the fourth, ‘The second form at St Clare’s’, which I haven’t read for at least thirty years. There’s a note in the front of my ‘dragon’ paperback saying that I acquired it in April 1970. So it’s perhaps not surprising that it’s starting to fall apart. I must have read it many times in my teens, and it has been borrowed regularly by young friends.

But with a thirty (or more) year gap in my perusals of this book, I had totally forgotten the storyline, and the new characters. The first chapter sees the twins Pat and Isobel joining their classmates as they return to their beloved boarding school after the summer holidays. They, along with most of their friends, are moving up to the second form as they are now fifteen. I never really understood how the forms work in the St Clare’s books, as the youngest in the school are fourteen. As the series was published in the 1940s there were fewer regulations than nowadays, and far less standardisation. 

There are two girls from the former second form who have not moved up to the third form: Elsie and Anna. The head, Miss Theobald, has decided to make them joint head girls of the form, although neither has typical leadership qualities. Anna is quite lazy and doesn’t like being in charge of anything, and Elsie is spiteful and vengeful. Miss Theobald and the form mistress hope that being head girls will make them both kinder and more responsible. 

There are two new girls in the class: Gladys, who always sits on her own and looks miserable, and Mirabel, who immediately lets everyone know that she’s at the school under sufferance and plans to leave at half term. She doesn’t join in anything, and causes trouble whenever she can. There’s a new mistress (teacher) too: Miss Quentin, who teaches drama. She’s rather affected and apparently has favourites, but the only person who likes her is the twins’ cousin Alison, who tends to get silly crushes on people. 

So the stage is set for another mainly character-based story that covers the term. It turns out that Mirabel is highly talented in a couple of areas, but she doesn’t begin to turn her attitude and behaviour around until the rest of the class have got so fed up with her that they resort to bullying (led by Elsie). Gladys has reason for her misery as her mother is very ill, but she hasn’t been making any effort, and the letters she has written to her mother are full of complaints, saying how much she misses her. 

There’s a concert that the second form puts on to the staff and most of the school, featuring almost everyone in the class; Doris is excellent at impersonations, Bobby does magic tricks, and there are many other displays of talents, which are much appreciated. It helps the girls (most of them) to pull together and produce something slick, amusing and of high quality. 

There are also classroom incidents, a trick played on the gullible Mam’zelle at lunchtime, a midnight feast, and an exciting lacrosse match. And, inevitably, the more difficult girls gradually absorb the common sense, caring attitude of St Clare’s, and start to mature. 

It’s not the greatest writing, of course. Enid Blyton is often criticised for poor quality prose, as well as for biases and bigotry, although we don’t see much of that in this book. There are caricatures, of course: fluffy Alison and the manipulative Miss Quentin are, I hope, not really believable. I’m not sure I could quite believe in Elsie, either, at the start of the book - or that the rest of the class would join in a campaign of bullying either, albeit only for one day. 

But it’s a good story. The pace is just right for a quick read, and although it’s inevitably dated, this book (and others in the series) still appeal to many girls of about eight and upwards. There are subtle (and not-so-subtle) moral lessons included in these books, showing the importance of integrity, honesty and kindness, and I’m sure I had a lot of my personal values strengthened when I read these books as a child and then as a teenager.

All the St Clare’s books stand alone, but in my opinion it’s best to read them in order. There tends to be a bit of unnecessary explanation in later books in the series, although this one doesn’t have too much of that. But I like seeing the continuity, as girls introduced in the first book start to grow up a little. And there are, here and there, references to earlier books in the series.

Recommended if you like this kind of mid-20th century children’s school story for nostalgic reasons, or to introduce to a young child who wants something different from modern children’s books.

The first three books in the St Clare's series are:

- The twins at St Clare's

- The O'Sullivan twins

- Summer term at St Clare's

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Summer term at St Clare's (by Enid Blyton)

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A few months ago I reread ‘The twins at St Clare’s’, the first in Enid Blyton’s St Clare’s school story series. In October I re-read the first sequel, ‘The O’Sullivan twins’. It was at least ten years since I had previously read either of these childhood favourites, and I was quite surprised at how much I enjoyed them. 

It’s more than twenty-five years since I last read the third in the series, 'Summer term at St Clare’s', which I finished reading this morning. I hadn’t remembered anything about it, and liked it very much.

This book starts with the twins playing tennis in the Easter holidays, only to discover that a friend has mumps. So they have to go into quarantine, and miss the first week of school. Unlike in the first book, they are very eager to get back. I’m not sure why this is the opening to the book, since the twins haven’t really missed anything as a result of being late, other than some of the tuck box goodies brought in by others. 

There are five new girls in the first form, but the only one who seems to have settled in easily is Bobby. She’s a cheerful person who likes joking and playing tricks, but has no desire to do any work although she's very intelligent. She quickly befriends Janet, who also likes tricks. 

A second new girl is Carlotta who is part Spanish, usually untidy, and very erratic in her work and behaviour. The twins like her, but aren’t quite sure what to make of her. Pam is the third - she’s the youngest in the class, and very studious. She seems to be likeable, but spends most of her time reading books relevant to her studies, or working hard.

Then there’s Sadie from America, who is sophisticated in her appearance and behaviour, although she doesn’t do too well academically. She’s very good natured, and the twins’ cousin Alison, who’s inclined to be shallow, has befriended Sadie, hanging onto her every word. Finally there’s Prudence, the only daughter of a vicar. She tries to make out that she’s above mischief and jokes, but has an unpleasant, supercilious nature. So nobody really likes her. 

The story involves all of these new girls in different ways. There are classroom incidents, walks where one of the new students does something unexpected, and tennis matches against other schools. There are discussions between staff, too. It could have been a bit run-of-the-mill, but I found it fast paced and  interesting. 

As with most books of this era and genre, there are plenty of moral lessons learned by the girls, sometimes by example or experience, sometimes pointed out by adults. Miss Theobald, the Head, comes into this slightly more than in the earlier books. She displays a lot of wisdom in her handling of three of the new girls in very different ways. 

The importance of steady work is encouraged, and also of taking time for sports or other activities. Snobbery is shown to be something petty and wrong, while dishonesty, cheating and sneaking are strongly condemned. But these principles are all demonstrated in the context of actions and behaviour, with very little direct commentary from the author. I thought it well done. Thinking back, I probably gained a lot of my code of ethics from these books as a young teenager. Reading it now, over fifty years after I first read it, it seems mostly quite positive.

Enid Blyton has been criticised for her caricatures of people from other countries, and in a sense this book is no exception. The French ‘mam’zelle’ is kind-hearted but gullible and hot-tempered. Spanish Carlotta is entirely unpredictable. American Sadie is mature in appearance but fluffy and somewhat ignorant. However I don’t think this kind of thing affected me negatively as a teenager. The most unpleasant girl in this St Clare’s book is Prudence, after all, who is very English. And Alison is considered as feather-headed as Sadie. 

'Summer term at St Clare's' was first published in 1943, but does not feel to me as if it's more than eighty years old. While, of course, there are no computers or mobile phones, the people are lively, mostly realistic, and quite modern in outlook. 

The writing isn’t the greatest. But the stories are well presented, the pace is good, and there’s at least one scene that I found very poignant. So I would recommend this, along with others in the series, to anyone who likes to read, from the age of about eight or nine and upwards. They would be good to read aloud too, possibly to younger children, and there are some excellent audio book adaptations of these books too.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The O'Sullivan Twins (by Enid Blyton)

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I loved the St Clare’s books by Enid Blyton when I was a child, and reread them regularly as a teenager. So I was delighted to discover in the summer that my seven-year-old granddaughter had discovered them on audio books and was listening to them regularly. At the end of August I re-read ‘The Twins at St Clare’s’, the first in the series, and very much liked the nostalgia as well as the story.

So a couple of days ago I picked up the second in the series, ‘The O’Sullivan Twins’, which I hadn’t read in, probably, thirty years or more. This book is set in Pat and Isabel’s second term at the no-nonsense boarding school. Before the Christmas holidays finish, they learn that their rather fluffy cousin Alison is to join them. They find her a bit annoying as she’s obsessed with her appearance, and likes new clothes. But they think St Clare’s may be very good for her.

There are two other new girls in the First Form: Lucy, who is small and bubbly, and Margery, who’s tall and grumpy. Lucy is very clever at everything other than maths, and brilliant at drawing. She makes friends quickly and is liked by everyone. Margery is quite a contrast: she rejects all overtures of friendship, and is surprisingly rude to the school staff. She seems to care nothing about school, and only works hard in gym and games where she’s exceptionally talented. 

Alison is accepted because she’s the twins’ cousin, but most of the girls consider her rather vain and self-centred, although she is nowhere near as angry or obnoxious as Pat and Isabel were at the start of their first term. 

This book introduces some of the Second Form girls too; they share a common room with the First Form, although they don’t see much of each other during the daytime. One of them has an upcoming birthday and decides to invite just a few girls, including the twins and their friend Janet to a small midnight feast in a music room. Among other things they decide to fry sausages.

All would be well but for a particularly unpleasant girl in the Second Form who dislikes almost everyone, but Pat most of all. So she plays some spiteful tricks and gets her into trouble, allowing Margery to take the blame.  

Although Enid Blyton’s style is quite annoying, from this adult perspective, it’s a good story on the whole. As with most school stories of the era (this was first published in 1942) a lot of value is given to traits such as honesty, courage and integrity. A clear boundary is established between mischief and real bad behaviour, and it’s made clear that even a midnight feast is just schoolgirl naughtiness rather than a serious misdemeanour. 

There are several mentions of ‘punishment’, a word I don’t like. When the girls decide to ‘punish’ one of their classmates it feels rather inappropriate from this 21st century perspective. It’s bullying by another name, and in some cases entirely undeserved. The school Head, Miss Theobald, likes her occasional punishments to fit the ‘crime’ - and thankfully there’s no caning or anything like that, which was common in boys’ schools of the era. 

And yet, despite rolling my eyes somewhat at the style here and there, it’s a good story. Some of the people are caricatured, but the twins and some of their friends are believable and likeable. I found myself quickly drawn into the story, quite moved by some of the events later in the term, as Lucy has a serious shock, and when one of the girls shows immense bravery.

I’m very pleased that this series has been reprinted so many times, and that it’s available as an audio book to help younger children discover Enid Blyton, who was such a prolific author. It’s true that some of her writing was trite, some of it racist and classist, and much of it formulaic. But she inspired children. She gave me, and many thousands of people like me, a love of reading which I’ve never lost, and I remain very grateful. 

I would recommend ‘The O’Sullivan Twins’ (and others in the series) to children of about seven and up, either as a read-aloud, or an audio book, or for fluent readers to try for themselves. But I don’t suppose they will interest adults, other than those of us who regard them as a nostalgic memory from our childhoods.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Twins at St Clare's (by Enid Blyton)

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Like so many of my generation, I grew up reading Enid Blyton books. She appealed at so many levels, and wrote for both younger and older children as well as young teens. I started when I was about four or five with the ‘Faraway Tree’ series. I moved through Brer Rabbit, and books of short stories about fairies, and brownies and dolls that came to life. And then I discovered the school series books. I read and re-read them many times as a child, and in my teens. 

As an adult I didn’t dip into them so often; indeed, I sometimes forgot about them entirely for a while. But now I have a seven-year-old granddaughter who listens to the ‘St Clare’s’ series on audio books as she goes to sleep. I was staying with the family, and kept hearing tantalising snippets of the stories. So I decided to re-read the series again once I was back home. 

It’s ten years since I last read ‘The Twins at St Clare’s’, which is the first in the series. I remembered the overview of the story, of course. Pat and Isabel O’Sullivan are fourteen, and have had to leave the boarding school they had been attending for several years. Their friends are going to an expensive and rather snooty boarding school; but their parents have been concerned that the twins are getting a bit snobby. So they’re going to send them to St Clare’s, a down-to-earth school with a good reputation for academics.

Pat and Isabel are determined to hate St Clare’s, and do as badly as they can. But, inevitably, they start to make friends and realise that it’s not so bad after all. By the end of their first term, they love their new school and are already looking forward to returning after the Christmas holidays. Not exactly a new or unique theme, but each author does it differently, and it works quite well.

As an adult, I can see that Enid Blyton’s writing style is not the greatest. There’s quite a bit of repetition, and some author input that really isn’t necessary. Writers are told to ‘show not tell’, and Blyton does well at the ‘showing’: the individual incidents and subplots are well done. But she ‘tells’ as well. Perhaps she thought her young readers wouldn’t understand if she didn’t explain. 

However, it’s a relatively minor gripe. The people are believable, the characterisation good. Pat and Isabel are identical, but their personalities are not exactly the same. Pat is more hot-tempered, and Isabel sometimes calms her down. In their class, the girls also have distinct characters. Janet is brusque and outspoken, but doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Doris is a bit of a clown, who loves making people laugh. But she’s not at all academic. Hilary, head of the form, is responsible and mature, but also has a sense of humour. 

Then there’s Kathleen who is shy and a bit reserved. Nobody really gets to know her until an incident blows up which Pat handles with some maturity. And there’s Sheila, who is rather boastful about the mansion where she lives with its many bathrooms. There are others, but they don’t have major roles to play in this book. Lessons are learned (not just academic ones), and there is encouragement towards honesty, courage and generosity. 

There are a couple of senior girls who are involved in the story: the wise head girl, Winifred, and the sports captain, Belinda. We also get to know Miss Theobald, the Head, somewhat. She’s kind, and understanding, and usually available to everyone. Miss Roberts, the first form mistress, is quite strict but very fair, and Mamzelle, the French teacher, is unpredictable but kind-hearted. 

There are tricks played on a rather timid mistress, a midnight feast, and an end-of-term concert. There’s also a visit to a circus, with a nod to another series by Enid Blyton, ‘Mr Galliano’s Circus’.  It’s a full and busy term, and I liked the blend of storylines involving different girls, and sometimes the staff too. Naturally there are some caricatures (Mamzelle is one of them, as is the strict but kind Matron), but it doesn’t matter. 

‘The Twins at St Clare’s’ was first published in 1941, so inevitably it’s rather dated. There’s no technology more complicated than a radio or record player, and all the girls write letters weekly. Currency is in the form of shillings, and a few pennies go a lot further than they did even twenty years later. And yet, the characters of the girls seem fresh and quite modern, albeit more focused on everyday life, rather than caught up with life online. 

I’m very pleased that these books are regularly reprinted (albeit with some modifications, apparently) and that they still appeal to young people. Ten years ago a nine-year-old friend liked them; more recently her younger sister read them. My granddaughter is thoroughly enjoying them now, and I am already looking forward to reading the second in the series some time next month. 

I suspect that adults will only appreciate these books if, like me, they read them as children. Despite the twins being fourteen, these were written for ages 9-11. They’re more likely to appeal to girls than boys, since this is an all-girls’ school. But some boys like them too. They’re good as read-alouds, and also good for fluently reading children to try for themselves from about age six or seven upwards. There’s plenty of action, and most chapters are complete in themselves, although there’s an overall story arc too.

Recommended.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Naughtiest Girl is a Monitor (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

I re-read ‘The Naughtiest Girl in the School’ by Enid Blyton a few months ago, after starting to read it to my granddaughter. Then I read its sequel, ‘The Naughtiest Girl Again’ in June. I’ve just finished reading the third (and last) in the original series, ‘The Naughtiest Girl is a Monitor’. 

I didn’t have much recollection of this book, which I probably haven’t read in thirty years or more. Just that Elizabeth, the hot-heated rebellious girl of the first book has been made a ‘monitor’ - and that she gets into trouble, as she is prone to do. 

I’d forgotten entirely that the book starts with the introduction of a new girl called Arabella. She is the daughter of some friends of Elizabeth’s parents. She comes to visit for a couple of weeks before term starts, and does not get along with Elizabeth at all. Arabella is from a wealthy background, and likes elegant clothes. She has very nice manners with adults, but she likes to boast about her expensive holidays and luxurious lifestyle. At her previous school girls looked up to her, and she expects this kind of adulation.

There are a couple of new boys as well in the First Form, Julian and Martin, and a shy girl called Rosemary. Julian has a ‘don’t care’ attitude to work, and life in general, while Martin seems to be a people-pleaser. Rosemary avoids conflict by agreeing with everyone, and is the only person to become friendly with Arabella. 

Elizabeth can’t quite forget that she’s a monitor, and this causes some distance with friends. But she still has a hot temper and makes some errors of judgement after leaping to conclusions. This leads to her being the target of some tricks that get her into trouble…

These books were originally intended for children (mostly girls) of about 7-11. The age of the first form isn’t given, but I assume Elizabeth and her classmates are about eleven. It doesn’t really matter. 

Whyteleafe School has an unusual system of democracy, with weekly ‘Meetings’ that allow everyone to have a voice, and to vote on any new rules. It's a fairly radical idea in the 21st century, all the more so when this series was first written, in the 1940s. 

In addition, the children (boys and girls) share out the money they have brought with them, and any more they’re sent during the term. The edition of the book I’ve just finished sees them all having two pounds per week; in the originals, published in the 1970s, it was two shillings. But although it seems a tad pointless to have adjusted that one detail, it’s not a huge change. As far as I know, the rest of the story is unchanged. But it doesn't feel eighty years old to me. 

And it’s a good story. Many of Enid Blyton’s books have quite strong moral undertones, particularly her school stories. Honesty, integrity and courage are lauded; cowardice, theft and sneakiness are seen as negative, but not in a preachy way. Elizabeth starts out (in the first book) determined to hate everything about the school and to break every rule she can. But by the time this one starts, she has learned the value of friendship and of some basic rules for a community working together, looking out for each other.

I had also entirely forgotten the incident in the final chapters of this book. Elizabeth shows tremendous courage and presence of mind. What she does doesn’t seem like a big deal to her and she hopes nobody realises what she’s done - she's worried about getting into trouble yet again. The conclusion is nicely handled and I found the final section surprisingly moving. 

Enid Blyton has been criticised for not being the greatest writer. It’s true that some phrases are a bit repetitive, and there are places where there’s a slightly intrusive authorial voice. Some of the conversation is a tad stilted, and the language isn’t beautifully descriptive or perfectly written. Does it matter? I don’t think so. She told a good story, about people who seem quite three-dimensional, and she got children reading. 

Most people my age from the UK who are avid readers started out with Enid Blyton books, and I’m delighted that they are still in print, still popular… and still easily available to those of us who remember these books from our childhoods. As a grandmother, I’m far from the target audience, but I’m very pleased I’ve finally re-read them. I thoroughly enjoyed this one.

Apparently there were nine more books written in this series, by another author - and if I see any of them in a charity shop I might pick them up. But these were the only three available to me as a child. I’d have loved more at the time, but the trilogy is complete in itself.

Definitely recommended if you like this genre; they're good read-alouds for children of about seven and up. Or for fluent readers of any age, particularly those of us who remember them nostalgically from our younger days. 

I'm pleased to see that this series has been republished many times, and that it's still in print. I'm not keen on the modern cartoon-style images on the newer covers, but perhaps they appeal more to children than the more realistic ones of the past. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Naughtiest Girl Again (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

Having re-read ‘The Naughtiest Girl in the School’ by Enid Blyton about six weeks ago, it was inevitable that I would want to re-read the first sequel, ‘The Naughtiest Girl Again’. I hadn’t read this book for probably thirty years or more. The notes in my very elderly paperback suggest that I read it many times as a child and young teenager; I may have dipped into it again as an adult, or read it aloud to my sons when they were little. But I have no record of that.

The story covers Elizabeth Allen’s second term at Whyteleafe boarding school. In the first book, she hated the thought of going to school and was determined to be as naughty as possible. In this book, she’s decided she will behave well, and try to avoid losing her temper. Elizabeth is a bright girl who likes lessons, and also takes part in many extra-curricular activities such as piano and gardening. 

There are three new children in Elizabeth’s class. Jenny is bright and friendly, and has a gift of mimicry so she is quickly liked and becomes quite popular. Robert and Kathleen, however, both seem dour and unfriendly. Robert, as is quickly apparent, is something of a bully and Kathleen, who is pale and spotty, wants to argue with everyone and won’t share her sweets. Elizabeth tries to be fair to them both, remembering how she was so unpleasant just a few months earlier. But then she loses her temper…

Whyteleafe is an unusual school, particularly for the era in which this was written; this book was first published in 1940. It’s a highly progressive school, governed by a council of elected monitors and two head students. It’s a school for boys and girls, which was also not normal for boarding schools in the 1940s. The two school heads, Miss Belle and Miss Best, always attend the school weekly ‘meetings’ but don’t interfere or even comment unless asked. 

There are ethical issues that are covered, in this (as with most of Blyton’s school stories) in a way that doesn’t seem too preachy or moralistic. Elizabeth is reminded to think before she passes judgement, and also before she makes decisions that older and wiser people might have done differently. A little psychology is invoked, as bullies and insecure people are taught to look at the reasons behind their behaviour and feelings. And much is made of the value of courage, as well as of kindness, and thoughtfulness and generosity.

I loved these books as a child and was pleased to find that I liked re-reading it in my sixties. Indeed, at times I could hardly put it down. I’m also pleased to see that they are regularly reprinted, though I’m not enamoured with the cartoon-style covers of the modern editions. But it’s good to see that they can be appreciated by today’s generation, eighty years after the books were first written. I am delighted that my seven-year-old granddaughter has started reading them, and likes them too. 

I can see, of course, that the writing isn’t the best, and that the solutions to problems (or reasons for bad behaviour) are rather too simplistic. But that doesn’t much matter. Children can appreciate the stories, and the humour, and the character changes that occur in a more general way. And the incidents can lead to good discussion about (for instance) bullying, or the importance of honesty. 

Most people my age who love to read grew up with Enid Blyton, at a time when there weren’t too many other interesting or exciting books suitable for children. There’s a huge variety available now, but the ‘Naughtiest Girl’ series has stood the test of time and I would recommend it to anyone, boys or girls, of about seven and upwards who are fluent readers.

They also make good read-alouds.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Naughtiest Girl in the School (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

As a child, I loved Enid Blyton books. Like many Brits my age who have ended up as enthusiastic readers, I read and re-read the adventure, mystery and school stories (and others) by Enid Blyton as often as I could. Adults sometimes turned their noses up at the similar storylines, and relatively low quality of writing. Nowadays many people object to the apparent racism and obvious sexism, although they were not unusual for the middle of the 20th century, and were not intended to hurt or demean anyone.

I kept most of my children’s books; my sons liked some Enid Blyton, and I have lent many of them to friends’ children over the decades. I have even replaced a few that were falling apart. So I was delighted when I learned that my seven-year-old granddaughter has discovered Enid Blyton. She was listening to the St Clare’s series on audio-books, and when I visited, I found the three ‘Naughtiest Girl’ books in excellent condition in a local church charity shop.

After giving up on reading aloud the wordy and frankly unsuitable ‘Peter Pan’, I suggested reading ‘The Naughtiest Girl in the School’ to my granddaughter.  She reads fluently herself, but reading aloud is an excellent way to introduce children to books they might not otherwise pick up. It must be thirty years or more since I last read this book, so although I recalled the overall plot, I had forgotten most of the details.

Elizabeth Allen is the protagonist, the ‘Naughtiest Girl’ of the title. She is a rather spoilt only child who has had a series of governesses. Her current one has resigned due to Elizabeth’s bad behaviour, and her parents must travel to some unknown destination where she can’t join them. So they have decided that she will go to boarding school. We never learn Elizabeth’s age; I assume she’s about ten or eleven, but it doesn’t much matter. 

Elizabeth decides that she will be so naughty that she will be expelled. But she doesn’t reckon with Whyteleafe School, which is unusual (particularly so for the era) in its self-governing nature, and the fact that it’s co-educational. There’s a Head Girl and a Head Boy, and twelve ‘monitors’ who are chosen from their peers and act as a kind of jury when needed. Each week there’s a whole school ‘meeting’ where any problems or issues are raised, and dealt with. The two Headmistresses, Miss Belle and Miss Best are present, but don’t interfere. And on the whole it works very well.

Some of Elizabeth’s antics are quite amusing, and in reading aloud to a seven-year-old I was able to appreciate them from a child’s point of view along with her. Moral lessons are, of course made, but mostly fairly subtly: Elizabeth learns about living with other people, considering their viewpoints, and how her own actions appear to others. She thinks more about her relationship with her parents, and - when asked - befriends an unhappy girl in her class. 

She’s quite impetuous and sometimes does things without thinking them through, but the school staff and some of the older students realise that underneath her anger and hurt, she’s a hard-working and kind girl. She’s also extremely stubborn, and has a hard time deciding what to do when she realises that she is enjoying many activities at the school and that she will miss her friend if, as planned, she leaves after the first half term.

I didn’t manage to finish re-reading it during my visit, but my granddaughter will now have read the rest of the book herself. When I got home, I picked my own copy up and finished it too. Some of the writing is a bit stilted, and there’s a bit of author intrusion here and there - it’s not a deep or brilliantly written book, and the outcome is predictable. But I thought it a good story, and as it was one of my favourites when I was a child, I’m glad I still liked it. 

My granddaughter’s edition (and mine - this is one of the books I replaced) don’t seem to have been edited to make them politically correct; the only alteration I noticed is that each child receives two pounds per week from the shared pocket money scheme. That seems quite a lot even by today’s standards, and I’m pretty sure it was two shillings when I first read the books, when I was a child, before decimalisation. 

It’s an ideal book for a fluently reading child who likes old-fashioned stories, and makes a good read-aloud too. Perhaps you have to have grown up with these books to appreciate them as an adult, but they’re regularly republished and have a wide audience. There are two sequels, and another six or seven authorised 'fan fiction' novels in the same series, which can often be bought in sets. 

I can't say I much like the cartoon-style images on the newer editions, but I'm pleased to know that these books are still in print, as well as being widely available second-hand. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Second Form at Malory Towers (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

Having just finished Enid Blyton’s ‘First Term at Malory Towers’, which I hadn’t read for about thirty years, I liked it so much I picked up its first sequel ‘Second Form at Malory Towers’ to read immediately afterwards. It’s probably thirty years since I last read that, too. These books were some of my favourites in my teenage years, and I re-read them almost yearly; I hadn’t forgotten the main characters, but with a thirty-year break, I had not remembered many of the subplots.

Over a year has passed since ‘First Term…’. Darrell and her friends are due to move into the second form, at last. There’s no explanation as to why they spent so long in the first form, or why one or two of their former classmates have already progressed to the third form. Perhaps it was age, perhaps academic achievement. In any case, this is the September term, and Darrell is firm friends with Sally, who travels down to the school (in Cornwall) with her.

Sally is made head of the second form, due to her wisdom, kindness and common sense, but others in the form are not happy about this. There are three new girls in their class and dorm. The most likeable is Belinda, who is good at art and excellent at caricatures, but as absent-minded as the musical Irene. The second new girl is Ellen, who has won a scholarship to the school so she’s evidently bright - but she seems to be constantly stressed, and doesn’t respond to anyone’s friendship.

Then there’s Daphne, who is very pretty and nicely spoken, who continually boasts about her wealthy parents with their huge mansion and yacht. The fluffy, shallow Gwendoline befriends Daphne, hoping for an invitation to her luxurious home.

Most of the action takes place in the classroom: tricks are played on the French ‘Mam’zelle’, and one of them, intended for her, goes rather horribly wrong. Then things start going missing, so many that it’s evidently not carelessness, but someone stealing. An accusation is made… I had remembered the outcome of this (or perhaps sufficient hints were dropped that I figured it out) and the climax of the story, involving a courageous girl and a dangerous rescue, is surprisingly moving.

Overall I didn’t like the book as much as the first in the series, and don’t plan to read any more right now. There’s a tad too much author commentary in this book, describing the girls and their characteristics rather than always showing them. And while there are certainly lessons to be learned about courage, integrity and kindness, which are shown in the book, the girls (other than Darrell and Sally) feel rather too caricatured.

But I’m glad I re-read these first two, which reminded me just why I liked them so much as a teenager, and I’d recommend them to anyone aged about eight or nine and up who likes this kind of book. I’m sure I’ll re-read the others at some point and am pleased to note that they have all been re-published regularly as well as being widely available second-hand.

Review copyright 2022 Sue's Book Reviews

First Term at Malory Towers (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

It’s that time of year, nearing the end, when I realise I haven’t quite managed the 100 books I planned to read during the year. I’m not far off: 94 completed, and a couple I’m reading slowly that I should finish on December 31st. But that still meant I needed to read four books in about six days… and I knew I wasn’t going to read much on Christmas Day. Time, I decided (as happens most years) to find a few childhood favourites: shortish books that I can read in just an hour or two, without any undue mental strain.

Glancing at the books which a 12-year-old friend has borrowed in the past couple of years, I spotted the Malory Towers series by Enid Blyton. As a teenager, those were my favourite books. I read them all regularly, but as far as I can tell I hadn’t read them since 1992. So I pulled out ‘First Term at Malory Towers’, and finished it this morning.

I knew the overall plot, of course. 12-year-old Darrell Rivers goes to boarding school for the first time. She’s a kind, honest girl who is enthusiastic about life, good at swimming, reasonably hard working. She makes friends, enjoys playing a few ‘tricks’ on teachers, and gains a great deal from her time there. But I’d forgotten most of the details of the book.

In particular, I’d quite forgotten the storyline involving Darrell’s friend Sally, who is a new girl at the same time as she is. But Sally, unlike the wise, intuitive person she becomes, is a morose, withdrawn person in this first book of the series. She answers questions in monosyllables and keeps to herself. Darrell becomes friendly with the lively and mischievous Alicia, and would mostly have ignored Sally but for a letter from her mother, who has met Sally’s mother and baby sister. But Sally denies that she has a sister…

There’s also the timid Mary-Lou, who is scared of everything. Darrell is rather scornful,and though she’s not as outspoken or unkind as some of their classmates, she finds Mary-Lou a bit irritating. However that’s nothing to what they all feel for the spoilt, unintelligent Gwendoline who thinks a great deal of herself and tries to manipulate people and circumstances to suit her own purposes.

Caricatures? Undoubtedly. But Darrell is a realistic person, whose main flaw is a terrible temper that she can’t control. It gets her into trouble in the course of the book, more than once. I hadn’t remembered that. Nor had I remembered that, despite the rather basic style, there are a couple of very moving scenes in this book.

Enid Blyton wasn’t the greatest writer, but she had quite an insight into character, and the reasons that some people were jealous, or unkind, or thoughtless. As a book intended for people of around nine or ten and upwards, I think it’s remarkable in the way it helps build understanding of those who may be different from us. Through Darrell’s eyes we start to see that being afraid is nothing to be ashamed of, that people can’t be coerced into changing who they are, and that violent behaviour in a bad temper can lead to potentially serious consequences.

Indeed, I liked the book so much that I immediately pulled its first sequel off my shelves, and will read that next.

The book is set in a girls’ school, and is obviously intended for girls, but any keen reader could benefit from the books which are appropriate for anyone of about eight or nine and upwards. These books have been reprinted many times, and I understand a TV series has recently been made to introduce a new generation to Malory Towers.

Review copyright 2022 Sue's Book Reviews

The Mystery of Holly Lane (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

Having thoroughly enjoyed re-reading ‘The Mystery of the Disappearing Cat’ by Enid Blyton, after at least twenty-five years, I decided to end the year by re-reading another book in the ‘Find-outers and dog’ series which I enjoyed so much as a young teenager. I couldn’t remember the plot of ‘The Mystery of Holly Lane’ at all (11th in the series) so decided to try that one.

Alas, I found it a bit rambly, and not nearly as interesting or well-written as ‘The Disappearing Cat’. The first chapters are mainly discussions by the ‘find-outers’ about whether or not there will be a new mystery when ‘Fatty’ gets back. And then they are convinced he will be in disguise at the station, so they’re on the lookout for a strange looking character….

Inevitably there is a mystery, but at first it just seems like an ordinary burglary. It’s hard to work out who could possibly have committed it, but Mr Goon the local policeman is involved, and there’s nothing much the children can do. An old man kept his money inside his furniture because he didn’t trust the banks - this was first published in 1953 so the amount mentioned seems relatively small, but the idea of not trusting banks seems to prevail even today. Other than the obvious lack of all technology, and the formality of the children’s homes (where bells are rung for meals and bedtimes) the book could easily have been written in modern times.

The plot thickens when the old man’s furniture is stolen, and the author did well describing his bewilderment mixed with anger. She also managed the list of suspects well, and it looks, at first, as if quite a likeable person is the only person possible to be guilty. Naturally enough the children are convinced it’s someone else, and they have one or two clues that the police haven’t found… but still it takes some risky exploring, and something of a coincidence in leaping to the right conclusion before the mystery is solved.

Perhaps by the 11th book in the series Enid Blyton was getting a bit stale; I don’t remember whether the later books are any better; there are 15 in all, and I liked them much better than her various adventure series (such as the well-known ‘Famous Five’). It feels as if there’s more of a plot, and a reason for the story. But this book didn’t really do anything for me - the story works well, and the interactions between the children mostly work, even if they’re a bit spurious at times. There’s also quite a poignant section when it looks as though Buster the dog is going to be in trouble for something he didn’t do.

But although I was pleased I acquired this back in 1971 and probably read it several times as part of the series, it wouldn’t make a good introduction to the ‘Find-Outers’ - and it’s not one I’m likely to pick up again.

Still, older children and younger teens who like this genre would probably enjoy it.

Review copyright 2021 Sue's Book Reviews

The Mystery of the Disappearing Cat (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

It’s been a busy month and I haven’t read as many books as I expected to. My ‘Goodreads’ challenge, I had decided, was a modest 100 books for 2021. I had read 98 books by Christmas Eve, so should easily have reached my target. But although I’m in the middle of four different books currently, I realised it was going to be difficult to finish any of them in two days - and I wouldn’t enjoy them if I tried to do so.

So I decided instead to re-read a couple of my children’s books. A young friend has been borrowing, repeatedly, the ‘Five Find-Outers’ series by Enid Blyton, so I decided to choose one of those. I’ve just finished ‘The Mystery of the Disappearing Cat’, second in the series, a book which I acquired in 1969 and read many times during my teens, but which I had not read for at least twenty-five years. I was expecting to find it rather trite and was pleasantly surprised that I thought it very readable.

Set in the 1940s, it was well before the days of political correctness, so one of the 12-year-old children, whose initials are FAT and who is somewhat overweight is known as ‘Fatty’, but he takes it mostly in good humour. He’s a bit boastful at times, as he knows that he’s extremely bright, but he’s also kind, and full of integrity. His dog Buster is also an important part of the group. The other 12-year-old is Pip, who’s light on his feet but rather scathing of his younger sister Bets, who is eight - but quite a clear thinker. Their friends are Larry (13) and Daisy (12)

The children evidently come from well-off middle class families; the older four are all at boarding schools, and their parents have housekeepers and cooks, though we don’t see very much of the parents. But they’re likeable children, not at all snobbish, as becomes evident in this book. They hear someone mowing the lawn in the garden next-door to Pip and Bets’ house, and meet Luke, the under-gardener, who is 15. He’s not particularly bright or formally educated, but he’s very knowledgeable and creative, and while he feels that he probably shouldn’t be friends with the children, they welcome him and do what they can to help him.

In the garden where Luke works are some valuable Siamese cats, and a few days after the story begins, one of them goes missing - the most valuable cat. The young woman who usually looks after them is away for the day, and the owner of the house is having a tea party which involves most of the staff. All evidence suggests that Luke must have stolen the cat…. But the find-outers are quite sure he is innocent, and set out to solve the mystery.

And it’s surprisingly well plotted for a children’s book. I realised that I did remember who actually committed the crime, and how it happened - there are clues scattered through the book which I’m sure I didn’t notice when I was nine, but which helped to trigger my memory. And I’d forgotten most of the details. The book is only about 100 pages long, and easy to read; yet there’s characterisation that helps distinguish all the children, as well as Luke, and the children’s friend Inspector Jenks.

There are caricatures too - the bumbling, accusatory Mr Goon the village policeman, for instance, or the trembling Miss Trimble who appears regularly but doesn’t in fact play any significant part in the story. Luke’s boss is very unpleasant to him, and we hear of his brutal stepfather. Blyton doesn’t go into gory details, but she doesn’t ignore this kind of realism either: the children are aware of bruises and beatings, and have a strong sense of what is fair.

Enid Blyton isn’t to everyone’s tastes, and naturally some of the story is old-fashioned - but even coming to it fresh over fifty years after I first read the book, I thought it a very enjoyable book. Once I’d started I could hardly put it down.

Recommended to children of about seven and upwards who like a fast-paced adventure story. All these books stand alone, so it’s not necessary to have read ‘The Mystery of the Burnt Cottage’ which is first in the series.

Review copyright 2021 Sue's Book Reviews

Mr Galliano's Circus (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

I had an hour free on a Sunday morning, and decided to read something ultra-light and frivolous. A young friend has recently been reading her way through my extensive Enid Blyton collection, and I had been thinking for a while that I could discuss them more intelligently with her if I re-read some of them myself. One of my childhood favourites was ‘Mr Galliano’s Circus’, so that’s the one I chose. I hadn’t remembered that I last read it as recently as 2005.

Jimmy is the main character in this book; a boy who I suppose must be about ten or eleven although I don’t think it’s ever stated. He could well be younger - it doesn’t matter. He’s an ordinary boy, in a somewhat impoverished family. His father has been out of work for a year and his mother works hard taking in laundry and cleaning houses to earn enough to keep them. The book was first published in 1938, although my edition is a paperback from the 1950s.

Unusually for Blyton’s books, the adults play an important role, and are mostly likeable, three-dimensional people. Naturally, given the era, their roles are somewhat typecast, but I very much liked Jimmy’s mother, and some of the circus people whom he gets to know. Mr Galliano is large, with a strong Italian accent, and exaggerated emotions, but he’s also kind and usually fair. He cares deeply about animals and won’t allow anyone to treat their animals badly.

Jimmy’s father is offered a week’s work as an odd job man at the circus, and does so well that he’s taken on long term. So he and his wife and son pack up their house - it’s not clear how they manage to give notice so quickly, assuming it’s a rental house, but it doesn’t much matter - and embark on life in a caravan, following the circus. Jimmy starts learning a few unusual skills such as riding horses bareback, and tightrope walking, but as he keeps being told, he’s too old to get really good at these things.

However Jimmy’s passion is working with animals, and he has a special rapport with all of them. This enables him to do some important jobs, earning him the respect and liking of the circus folk. Not that they’re all kind, honest people - but the few ‘bad’ guys are dealt with relatively lightly.

Enid Blyton gets a bad rap for many reasons, one of them her sexist and racist attitudes, although given the era in which she was writing, they seem relatively mild to me. There’s an expectation that women cook and clean, but many of them have important roles in the circus. Mr Galliano might be a caricatured figure, but he’s the boss - and he has contented, caring folk around him. I was slightly shocked at the name of one of the dogs, a word which wasn’t pleasant in the 1930s and is considered an extremely racist one nowadays; but it’s one of ten or twelve dogs, many of whom are named based on their fur colour, not with any negative connotation as such.

Some of the writing is a bit trite, and some of the conversation a little stilted, and (unsurprisingly) old-fashioned - but there’s something about Blyton’s books that make them very readable despite the flaws.

On the whole I found myself enjoying this book considerably more than I had expected. There are a couple of quite poignant scenes where my eyes filled briefly - something that seems to happen more when I read children’s books than with adult ones. And it’s a good story. Caricatured, undoubtedly, idealised in many ways - but, of its era, a good story. My young friend enjoyed it (and read the two sequels) although she said she wasn’t really interested in circuses in general.

Recommended for children of about eight and upwards who like a good, character-based story - I assume that modern versions have changed the unpleasantly racist-sounding name of one of the dogs.

Review copyright 2021 Sue's Book Reviews