Literature

Remembering our Childhood

My Favorite Childhood Reads

By Ashleigh Adams

Since the age of 10, I’ve been a devoted book lover, which I owe to the many stories I read when growing up – whenever I think back to my favourite childhood stories, I always remember how excited and warm they made me feel.

One of the first books I adored was my childhood best friendÔÇÖs beautiful edition of Tim BurtonÔÇÖs The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy and other stories (1997). I was entirely captivated by the stunningly dark illustrations and poems inside. We would both read the poems over and over again, imagining the secret lives of the characters within. Anytime I flick through my own copy I can so easily imagine myself on a rainy autumn afternoon with my childhood best friend having the best time discovering these stories.

Another book that started a 2 year-long Roald Dahl obsession for me was Esio Trot (1990), which is the sweetest romance between a man, and a woman who was more interested in her pet tortoise. When my primary school teacher got this one out, it was over – I thought of nothing else besides this loved up couple and their tortoise for weeks. Soon after I convinced my mother to buy me Esio trot and The Witches (1983) when on a family caravan holiday in Devon. I devoured The Witches in just two days and from then on, not only did I develop an irrational fear of square toed shoes, but I also developed an adoration for all kinds of books. Every new book I read became my favourite and I was officially bestowed with the name ÔÇ£bookworm,ÔÇØ – a title I was pretty proud of.

Well-told stories give us a feeling that stays with us for a lifetime, long after weÔÇÖve forgotten what the story was ever actually about, and to me those feelings are what makes the stories of our childhood so special.

My Sister Jodie ÔÇô Jacqueline Wilson

By Carys Scales

My favourite book as a child was definitely any Jacqueline Wilson book – I had an entire box crammed full of them. A particular favourite though was My Sister Jodie (2008). I absolutely loved reading it while imagining what it must have been like to live in a boarding school. As someone with two younger brothers, I always felt a little jealous of those with older siblings and My Sister Jodie became a big part of that. Jodie was one of my idols – she was just so cool and cared so much about her younger sister. From her dyed purple hair to her pierced ears, I was in awe – sometimes, when I see my own piercings in the mirror, I think that eight-year-old me would go nuts. I also related heavily to Pearl (JodieÔÇÖs younger sister), who had a deep love for literature.

Looking back, My Sister Jodie is borderline traumatizing. Dealing with strong themes of relationships, bullying and even death, WilsonÔÇÖs novel can definitely be considered a very dark tale, especially for a childrenÔÇÖs book. However, as a kid reading it, these negative themes arenÔÇÖt as noticeable because youÔÇÖre so wrapped up in the story ÔÇô they have only come to light the older IÔÇÖve become.

However, My Sister Jodie will always be special to me because of the emotional connection I have to it. My grandmother used to take me to Waterstones and let me pick out any Jacqueline Wilson book which we would then read together ÔÇô and sometimes, we would read them over and over again. That is part of what makes literature – and especially childrenÔÇÖs literature – so important, because the stories and what you do with them can make up such a big part of your character.

Winnie-the-Pooh ÔÇô A. A. Milne

By Lana Davidson Flood

ÔÇÿHere is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he could stop bumping for a moment and think of it.ÔÇÖ

These are the opening lines to the first of A. A. MilneÔÇÖs classic Winnie-the-Pooh (1926) stories and were words enough to draw me in when I was younger. As a young child I read books like I was on mission, reading absolutely anything I could get my hands on. While there were many favourites, I couldnÔÇÖt help but keep going back to the sweet childlike innocence of the Winnie-the-Pooh stories.

I imagine every child has come across these stories at one point or another, and how could you not love the little yellow honey-loving Bear of Very Little Brain. I still have the beautiful copy of these stories I had throughout my childhood, a large hardback edition with charming illustrations by E. H. Shepard. There is just something so endearing about the way Christopher Robin is continually interrupting the tales that adds to their fun, and the whole crowd of forest animals are each loveable in their own ways. My personal favourite growing up was Eeyore; there was just something about his perpetual gloominess that meant I couldnÔÇÖt help but fall in love with him.

My favourite story from the book has to be when Pooh and Piglet decide they are going to trap a Heffalump, debating all of the ridiculous ways they believe they could trap one, despite neither ever actually having seen a Heffalump. Inevitably, Pooh gets himself stuck in the trap, scaring Piglet in the process, and they need Christopher RobinÔÇÖs assistance to free him, with no Heffalumps in sight.

While these stories may not have a huge amount of substance or plot to them, they are charming and loveable and that is exactly what kept me coming back again and again when I was younger and will keep me coming back for many years to come.

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