Thinking of things, and Enid BlytonPosted: October 4, 2007
Thanks to Zenobia for this one, because it really did have an impact on me.
Because yes, it’s got some truth to it. The idea that I’m somehow special because I’m clever. And I used to think that a hell of a lot. I still do, sometimes, to be honest. I still have a very low tolerance of very slow people. I just get bored.
There are other points she makes as well, but you can read them there. The one other thing I want to say is that I read all of the Famous Five, Secret Seven and Mallory Towers books by Enid Blyton. And I loved, loved Darrell, from Mallory Towers. She had a temper – she was great! And, perhaps because there were only girls, it wasn’t so overtly sexist (or a product of her time, whichever you prefer) as the others.
Georgina – “Master George” – as she insisted on being called, from the Famous Five series…. I never really liked her. I mean, I admired her, kind of, for having the sheer bloody-mindedness to do stuff – but I hated the way she always looked down on Lucy. Now, Lucy was a bit of a wimp, to be fair, but she was also the youngest, and pretty much overlooked by everyone. And I thought that that was just a bit unfair.
And it was the same in the Secret Seven books – there was always that girl, whose name I’ve now forgotten, who was overlooked and looked down on and generally treated pretty meanly, and I just didn’t really like it. Having said that, I did like the way they always managed to have adventures just because they had a club in their garden shed. That was pretty cool.
And I think that the things I read at that age did have an impact on me. I was furious when I realised that they were sexist. I knew I didn’t want to be like either ‘George’ or Lucy. Though I wouldn’t have minded being Darrell. Apart from the whole girls’-boarding-school thing.
As an aside, I also loved the picture of Darrell as a little first-year; she was all dressed up in slightly over-large clothes, just like I suspected I would be at that age (and was proved right, because my mother, like Darrell’s, rightly suspected I’d grow into them!) and, best of all, she had short hair!
I don’t quite know where my obsession with short hair comes from. But I do have it. Just one of those things, I suppose. How strange that I’m going out with a man who has long hair…. But, then, I do like long hair…. I just get bored, or annoyed, if it’s on my head!
Back to books, and elitism, and I think I’ve come to the conclusion that while I might be clever, I’m a bit cruel and shite sometimes, too. And maybe I should think more about that.
And I also think that perhaps we all react very differently to the world of Enid Blyton.