Post-Xmas Snow: We Didn’t Go Back to School
--was the name of a post I did some years back on Arthur Ransome’s Winter Holiday (a take, d’you see, on another series book We didn’t mean to go to Sea). There has been a lot of snow in the UK over the past few days, so it's obviously time for this (even more) weird (than usual) entry in the Barney or 'R' mysteries. I covered the rest of this series on the blog in 2024.
The Rat-a-Tat Mystery by Enid Blyton
published 1956
Things are getting desperate in the Lynton household –
Christmas is over, and the parents can’t believe that they still have to spend
time with their children Roger and Diana, and visiting orphan Snubby, until the
schools go back. (which, notoriously with Brit private boarding schools, will
be well into January). It’s a tense situation. If only it would snow: “Then you
can go out the whole day long, and snowball and toboggan and
skate—and I shall be rid of you for a little while!”
But luckily a complete stranger, someone they’ve never met,
offers a free holiday to the children in an old house by a lake. Mr and Mrs
Lynton can’t accept fast enough.
To be fair, the offer comes from Barney’s newly-discovered
grandmother, but still…
And even better:
They ran to the window and
looked out. Yes, big snowflakes were falling steadily down. Diana
looked up at the sky, but the snowflakes were already so thick that
they hid it completely.
And the lake at the house is frozen so there will be
skating. Those transporting them rush their journeys to make sure children are
dumped there with no danger of their relations being stuck there too. The
children will end up snowed in, out of contact with the rest of the world and
with the phone lines down. Mr and Mrs Lynton must be delighted – perhaps the
children can stay there till they are grown-up.
They are in the charge of the cook’s sister (changed to
‘the help’s sister’ in more modern editions), who can produce magic meals from
the store cupboard – she knew they would be snowed in, so brought extra
supplies. (No other responsible grown up seems bothered.)
The house is – no surprises – old, and mysterious. It has a
lot of panelling, and it has secrets. It also has a wonderful door knocker.
It was magnificent. It was in
the shape of a great lion’s head. Diana and the others marvelled at it. They
had never seen such a knocker in their lives - no wonder it made so
much noise!
This has legends attached to it, and the rat a tat sound
gives the house its name.
The snow keeps the loving parents away, but not so the
villains. There is evidence that people are creeping round, getting in and out
of the house, there is a bang on the knocker, and the worst of the children
(Snubby) disappears – where can he be? (spoiler: locked in the cellar. Best
place for him and his blooming dog)
All I can remember of the criminal plot is this
spoileresque sentence near the end:
The inspector and the
sergeant, with the box of guns, took off in their helicopter after lunch. The
children were sorry to see them go - everything had been so very exciting! They
waved till the helicopter was a speck in the sky and then went indoors.
Which is followed by this:
“Jolly good! I wonder if we'll still be
here when those men come to get their guns from the lake. I do hope so.”
Yes indeed, the holiday isn’t over, they are going to stay
on and have fun and the criminals haven’t been caught yet, and will be
returning to put everyone in danger. It seems an extraordinary ending – perhaps
Blyton was intending a two-part story, and it just trailed off.
Snowballs on a sled from the Museums of History of NSW
Outdoor skating picture from the Provincial
Archives of Alberta.
Children snowballing from a more modern source.
Door knocker is at the cathedral in Konstanz in Germany,
picture from Wikimedia
Commons.
Hilarious! I likely have this somewhere but I don't remember it - also I preferred the Adventure series, plus St. Clare's and Malory Towers. I especially like the door knocker which reminds me of a university paper on the Council of Constance. The local news is full of people drowning on thin ice in the winter but in books no one worries if the ice is thick enough or it provides dramatic rescue opportunities! Alas, must head to work where the drama is plentiful but quite different...
ReplyDeleteThe things that people don't worry about in Enid Blyton would make quite the list! There are some very casual parents.
DeleteIn Little Women Amy falls through the ice...
In Ransome's Winter Holiday, Nancy and Peggy get their feet wet before the tarn is frozen solid. They claim it was all right for one, but not for two.
DeleteI just looked that up - Nancy says she was 'galoot-ish' not to realize that it would have supported one but not both. Oh I did love those books - and Winter Holiday a particular favourite
DeleteI have a problem with Enid Blyton because I never liked her, even as a child. Perhaps we could rewrite this for the modern age, with the children falling through the ice and drowning, and the adults being sent to prison for negligence. And maybe the police helicopter could crash - or is that too harsh?
ReplyDeleteI like the idea of updating them this way. And there is always the possibility of an Uprising by all the put-upon servants and housekeepers and cooks, they could teach the litle blighters a lesson.
DeleteThere are a series of updated "Five" books for adults - "Five on Brexit Island", "Five Go Parenting", "Five at the Office Christmas Party"...- a good idea that probably soon outwears its time.
DeleteOn the other hand, just at the beginning of the Covid lockdown I came across "The Ladybird Book of the Zombie Apocalypse" in Ladybirds for Grown-Ups which foresaw what was in store for us with frightening accuracy.
I may have to find the Ladybird book.
DeleteYes, the trouble with those funny ideas is that people don't know when to stop - the answer would be 'while it's still funny, clever and original'
There was an amusing series about modern art as well, probably around the same time
I got "The Ladybird Book of the Zombie Apocalypse" for a pound in a charity shop and lent it to a wealthy acquaintance, who bought several copies as gifts and forgot to return mine,
DeleteI regularly remember E.A. Robinson's Captain Craig who recalls "the days
When I had hounds and credit, and grave friends
To borrow my books and set wet glasses on them".
At least you got them back! I thought.
It's always the rich people. Gone are the days when I was forever pushing books on people, saying 'you'll love this, borrow it' - I realized that it was the surest way of losing books, because they took them to please me and forgot about them. And then a person who was sure she was about to embark on Proust, so could she borrow please? I KNEW she never would, but in those days was too polite to say so. I had to go to her house and 'laughingly' insist on taking it away, and decided then to be very resistant to lending - only books I didn't need returned. Otherwise, 'Buy your own'.
DeleteEAR! There's someone you don't hear much of these days. Miniver Cheevy Child of Scorn is a satisfying phrase. I just looked up his life, dear me no wonder he was so miserable. And yet Pulitzer, nominated for Nobel... but forgotten even in America I think, and unknown here?
"Richard Cory" inspired Paul Simon (is he remembered now?) and there is/was a selected in Penguin and the admirable Boydell & Brewer published his Arthurian poems.
DeleteAt a guess, EAR was just enough like Robert Frost for people to confuse them and forget him. EAR is the wrong kind of American laureate.
I lent a copy of one of Sarah Caudwell's books to a work colleague; asked her about a month later whether she'd enjoyed it; she hadn't (fair enough) and had given it to a charity shop. She herself never read a book more than once so it had never occurred to her that I might want it back.
DeleteSovay
Roger: I just looked up the Richard Cory song, wasn't aware of the connection. Again, more misery. Paul Simon very much still remembered (if you meant him rather than Richard Cory!) - I recently went to a gospel version of Graceland at the Barbican. PaulSimon not present, but the music going on forever.
DeleteSovay: people are funny aren't they? I can understand we all don't love the same books - but giving them away is quite another thing.
Especially when they’re not yours …
DeleteSovay
exactly!
Delete"Only duffers drown! Better drowned than duffers!"
ReplyDelete- the response of the father in Swallows and Amazons(?) when mother tells the children to get his permission to go out on boats.
'Better drowned than duffers if not duffers won't drown'. Just showing off that I can produce the exact quote without looking it up. When I was in the midst of raising the next generation, and looking at the books they read, I wrote a rather viral article about how modern books lacked the Swallows and Amazons freedom for children, inspired by exactly that quote.
DeleteOne of my favourite quotes as well. When talking to people younger than me who are parents, I do wonder how mine coped with my two three weeks' holidays in Europe, travelling in a mini with only a postcard sent halfway through the trip to reassure them we were still alive. Let's not even mention when the brake fluid failed, and the handbrake was the only way of slowing down the car.
Delete'it would only worry them if they knew' was an important defence of why you didn't tell them anything. I also remember young people trying to find a public phone in some remote spot of a far-away country to ring the parents (international call) and ask about their A Level results. Far from the modern days of being hunched round the phone on the day, ready to call clearing, the school, the university....
DeletePostcard quite likely to arrive after you got home
You have to wonder why these parents had children at all (unless it was out of sheer carelessness).
ReplyDeleteI'm sure it was 'just the done thing'. Or else to produce an heir to take over the family finances. You wouldn't be surprised to find that girls weren't valued...
DeleteNot much choice. In Cold Comfort Farm (it rereads just as well!) the unmarried Flora gives Meriam advice on contraception, which was probably a shock in the 1930s.
ReplyDeleteReading obituaries of David Lodge I was reminded of the 1960s joke: "What do you call people who use the rhythm method of birth control?"
"Parents."
Indeed yes to all.
DeleteI loved How Far Can You Go? best of his books, such a perfect picture of Catholic life in that generation.
Is there any disussion of Liza's contraception methods in "One Year's Time", or does it just go by default?
DeleteGood question - I don't think so, though I read it a little while ago and saved the entry till the appropriate date.
DeleteThere is an excellent moment in the Astaire/Rogers film, The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle. They (V and I) were real-life famous dancers in their day, and it was a biopic. The couple were childless, and there's a moment where Ginger Rogers says something like 'remember how we treasured that little Dutch cap?' I am assured that it doesn't mean the same in US as UK, but I remember discussing and wondering whether this was a coded hint to us all...
Contraception in 1920s and 30s books (or the failure to mention it) is an interesting thing: it plays a big part in Keep the Aspidistra Flying and I think Richard Aldington mentions it (or the failure to use it) in Death of a Hero, but Waugh, Greene, Henry Green, Patrick Hamilton, all keep schtum I think. No doubt DH Lawrence disapproved,
DeleteIt sounds like a PhD topic - except that an absence is hard to research and write about...
DeleteNow I'm trying to think of any mentions. Later on an illegal abortion was almost obligatory in a certain kind of novel.
Mary McCarthy's The Group was published 1963, but is set in the 1930s and there is a lot about contraception in that. Some of the scenes seemed very autobiographical... one of the young women is sent off by her lover to 'fix herself up' and has a most uncomfortable time. She ends up leaving her equipment under a park bench, in a scene that lived in my memory.
I'm off-topic once again, but I thought this group would enjoy this oldie-but-goodie (found a link in a very old e-mail, had to go to archive.org to reproduce it): https://web.archive.org/web/20140101020235/https://the-toast.net/2013/12/30/how-to-tell-if-you-are-in-a-noel-streatfeild-novel/
ReplyDeleteOh this is great! I loved The Toast and was really sorry when it closed: such funny subjects and very keyed to women and books...
DeleteTo an American reader (this American reader, at any rate) the only reason to read Enid Blyton is for the food.
ReplyDeleteAbout 15 years ago someone called Jane Brocket did a book called 'Cherry Cake & Ginger Beer' , with recipes for Enid Blyton specials - jam buns, rock cakes. And, it was a satisfying size with a paper cover. I loved it, and gave away a few copies. And then I lent mine to someone and never got it back. I may have to get a new one....
DeleteI have that book - it's a treasure. It also offered some insight into British food terms that as an Ignorant Yank, I appreciated.
DeleteYes!! And, I have ordered another copy, arriving this week... There will be solid stodge in this house next week.
Delete