The enduring appeal of Enid Blyton

Just stumbled across this article in the Guardian, questioning why Enid Blyton’s novels still strike a chord with children (and, I suspect, adults suffering from arrested development) today.

And no wonder.

Even putting the racism (edited out of recent editions) aside for a minute, I swear that one day I will prove causality between Blyton’s overwhelmingly sexist, classist, patronising, authoritarian, middle-class nannyish prose and the generation who grew up reading her voting in Thatcher.

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Laurence Thompson

Laurence Thompson is an English writer. He is almost certainly drunk.

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