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.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s