The R Mysteries/ Barney Mysteries of Enid Blyton
Fellow-blogger Invisible Event and I
share an interest in prolific children’s author Enid Blyton, though we come to
her from different angles. I read huge amounts of Blyton when I was a child,
whereas I think Jim is solely an adult reader. Jim is very much keyed to Blyton
as a mystery/crime author, whereas I liked them all – eg very keen on the
school stories at St Clare’s and Mallory Towers.
Jim has blogged on all the Five
Find-Outers and Dog books: great favourites of mine too, and I
have covered a few. Now
he has started
on the ‘R’ Mysteries: six books with titles of the nature of The Ring
O’Bells Mystery and The Ragamuffin Mystery, featuring children Roger, Diana, Snubby
and Barney, plus two maddening animals, Miranda the monkey and Loony, a dog who
should be put down.
So naturally I was inspired to look at these books again. These
are my thoughts on the series:
- JJ wants more detection in the books, while I’m
less picky: I don’t mind just an adventure.
- Throughout
the series, the parents are amazingly whole-hearted
about getting rid of children – they seem anxious to spend no time with them at
all. They send them away to boarding-school, then find something for them to do
during the holidays. I can see this is good for the adventure aspect, but
still…
- I can’t
bear the animals, particularly the very badly-behaved and very destructive dog,
and I don’t think it hilarious when it attacks
people and belongings.
- All
the pranks and tricks leave me straight faced.
But apart from that…
Starting with the first
The Rockingdown Mystery
published 1949
The children are staying in a Dower House, something
I always enjoy – see Heyer, Wentworth, Davis-Goff, Pim. It
originally belonged to a very sinister old mansion.
There is a surprisingly dark backstory about dead children.
And they are told:
‘Folks do say that once a
young fellow managed to get in there, and he couldn’t never get out again. That
might happen to you too. There’s doors there that shut of themselves, yes, and
lock themselves too.
And there’s rooms there still
full of furniture, left by the last owner – my they’ll be full of moths and
spiders. A strange, creepy place I wouldn’t go into, not if you paid me a
thousand pounds.’
The reaction is: ‘This sounded pleasantly eerie. The three
children at once made up their minds to do a bit of snooping that very day.’ I
love it that the children have zero qualms about breaking into the weird old
house and making free of it – neither moral qualms nor a sense of
self-preservation.
There are some features very much of their time:
Whilst the boys amused
themselves by looking through the old toy cupboard and picking out more of the
beautifully carved old soldiers… Diana got very busy tidying up and cleaning.
The boys help by offering her 'a large handkerchief' to tie
round her head so her hair doesn’t get dirty.
Later ‘the rooms were in
dreadful state now. It would need
a good morning’s work from Diana to get them straight again.’
The three very upper-middle class children (private
schools, servants) meet up with Barney, a boy who works in fairs and circuses
with his monkey, and wanders the country, ‘tramping around’ he calls it,
looking for his father. There is the grim unexpected realism of the privileged
children hating extra lessons, while the child who has nothing, Barney, is
longing to learn. He will feature in all the books, and they are known by some
as the Barney books.
There is a crime plot. If you want to know about it, I
recommend Jim’s
blogpost…
Next came
The Rilloby Fair Mystery
published 1950
The posh children are again mixing with the admirable Barney
who (with his monkey Miranda) is working and living with the Fair of the title –
which is very old-school, with a travelling menagerie as well as the expected
roundabouts and hooplas. There is quite a lot of intriguing and
vaguely-convincing-sounding detail of this.
Meanwhile – there has been a series of thefts of important
historical papers from locked rooms in old houses: no-one can work out how the
thief got in.
Now, to be honest, no adult reading this book is going to
be very long in solving this – and certainly not anyone who has read a particular
classic of early crime books. Blyton waves it in the readers’ faces, and you
think the cast of characters are quite slow in getting to it. But it is an
attempt at a locked-room mystery: good for her.
And there are some nice moments. I like that in her books
the children are unrespectful and take a very cool view of adults.
There is a nuisance of a Great Uncle visiting the family (although
he is the gateway into the mystery).
Great Uncle tried to settle
down and go on writing what he called his ‘Memoirs’, which Roger said were
another name for ‘Nodding over a Pipe’.
He introduces Diana to a 16th century proverb
‘When ye thunder-clouds come,
think on the Storm-cock bird – he sings’
Diana has no problem translating this to modern idiom:
‘When you’re up to your neck
in hot water, think of the kettle – and sing!’
An unexpected exchange.
And Snubby gets very cross when Great Uncle gets him into
trouble, and says, as if talking to a chum in the fourth form, that he’s finished
with him :
I’m not telling you, or
anybody else, a single thing! Sneaking and blabbing like that and getting me a
whacking. It’s not fair.
Whacking and similar do feature in these books, signs of a
different time.
Cook has a ‘marvellous Sunday hat. It’s got three
roses, a wreath of violets, and five carnations in it. It’s wizard.’
Completism means I will read the whole series, so there
will be further entries…
Children and trees from the State Library of North Carolina.
Swing boat ride photo taken at a fair near Newcastle in the 1940s – Tyne and Wear archives.
Flowers in hats were a nono - but they'd been all the rage in the 1900s.
ReplyDeleteIt's generally used to show someone very old-fashioned - cook here, Miss Silver always!
DeleteMiss Silver has a hat trimmed with pompoms instead of flowers in one book, but it's clearly an innovation and one she's not entirely confident about, IIRC.
DeleteSovay
Yes, very true. The pom-poms are only loosely attached and nod, if I remember right.
DeleteI'm pretty sure they're in her signature hat colours though - three of them, one black, one grey and one purple. She certainly wouldn't be seen in Cook's riot of roses and carnations - a small bunch of purple pansies is her limit.
DeleteSovay
Doesn't she re-trim them from time to time - adding a new ribbon or a different flower... Thrifty.
DeletePatricia Wentworth mentions in one book that her current (re-trimmed) hat is in its third year, though that may well be during the war and immediate post-war years. Ethel persuades her to have a velvet hat one year but I can't think she repeated the experiment - velvet must be less hard-wearing and refurbishable than felt.
DeleteSovay
I once did a post where a hat-shop owner complains about the hard times war (this was First World War) has brought to milliners. As I said, hard to put it high on your sympathy list...
DeleteIt's here https://clothesinbooks.blogspot.com/2013/04/nine-till-six-by-aimee-and-philip-stuart.html
My memories of childhood include loads of Enid Blyton, but when I look at her output I'm surprised by how LITTLE of it I read. Faraway Tree and Wishing Chair when I was very young; Famous Five; St Clare's - but little or no Mallory Towers, Naughtiest Girl in the School, Secret Seven - and none of these Mysteries. The sinister mansion warnings sound very much like a classic Scooby-Doo set up - scare the kids away so that they don't interfere with whatever criminal activity is going on ...
ReplyDeleteParents, at least in fiction, are surprisingly insouciant about giving children their head - isn't there a telegram from a parent in "Swallows and Amazons" giving the kids permission to go off camping on their own because if they're capable of looking after themselves they'll be fine and if not they're better off dead? Or words to that effect. Milly-Molly-Mandy roams the countryside by herself aged about five or six.
Greegage-flavoured jelly - those were the days!
Sovay
She wrote an awful lot - all for children but in very varied genres: Noddy is very different from Mallory Towers.
DeleteOne of the points in her favour was that there were cheap paperbacks - I could take my pocket money down to the newsagents at the end of the road and buy one. Harder to find in libraries as they were so disapproved of.
'Better drowned than duffers: if not duffers will not drown' is the legendary S&A telegram - burnt into my mind. It links up with an article I wrote in Slate magazine a long time ago - you might be interested: https://slate.com/culture/2002/05/the-new-gothicism-of-children-s-books.html
Thanks for the link to your article - very interesting and makes me glad I've missed out on recent children's books which sound grim enough to put kids off both literature AND real life.
DeleteThat's the telegram - I knew it was a lot snappier than my version! The independence or otherwise of children reminded me of the Bonetts' "No Grave for a Lady" - the mother of a boy of 5 or 6 is reluctant to leave him to play on his own on the beach, which her husband and other characters clearly consider fussy and over-protective, but as long as SOMEONE has an eye on him she doesn't seem to care who it is - a middle-aged man she first met five minutes ago is a perfectly acceptable baby-sitter.
Sovay
Yes it's a wonder they weren't all drowned/abducted. There's a Noel Streatfeild book where the children are sent to swim off the Cornish coast every day - the house and the adults are at the top of the cliff. And in Swallows & Amazons it is considered very funny that Roget cannot, in fact, swim, he's just pretending - this is before going on a completely unsupervised sailing and swimming holiday...
DeleteI think it's so interesting to look at a set of stories like that from two perspectives, Moira: what you thought of them as a child, and what you think as an adult. It makes me think about those kid-lit mysteries I read, and try to work out whether I liked the adventure part, the character part, the mystery part, etc., the most. I think you make a good point, too, about the differences in parenting between that time (or at least in those books) and today.
ReplyDeleteThanks Margot. I think those of us who love crime fiction must all look back with great interest at what we read as children. I'd love to hear more about your own reading as a child.
DeleteAngela Thirkell remarked in her books that English parents would use any excuse to have their children taken off their hands, at least for a bit. I took it as humor, but who knows?
ReplyDeleteI honestly think it was one of those jokes with truth in them: they told themselves it was good for the children, encouraged independence, enabled them to make friends etc. But it did make life easier for the parents...
DeleteWhen my own children were young (and they are entirely state-educated) I had a friend whose children went to private schools. She used to say 'lucky you, longer terms, I'm sure the much shorter sessions at my children's schools are actually illegal.'
To be fair, I think most parents some time make jokes about wishing the children were off their hands, looking forward to the end of holidays.
Why did middle-class children think it was ok to break into empty houses? It happens in Forest's Marlows and the Traitors, and they couldn't be a more upright family. I can understand it if the house was obviously ruined and long uninhabited, with doors and windows long gone, but if they actually have to break in?
ReplyDeleteI know, I couldn't agree more, it seemed particularly blatant in this case. And, it seems obvious to me that if the exact same behaviour was assigned to low-class boys it would be seen as a terrible indictment of them, real villains.
DeleteBut at the same time, there are great claims (in Blyton) of the importance of honour - no lying, no snitching, no breaking your word. An uneven moral framework...
IIRC the Provincial Lady and Mrs Tim were glad to see their children when they came home from boarding school (although they seemed more interested in the sons than in the daughters IMO). But I remember being surprised in a some books by the practice of keeping kids in the nursery all day, only letting them out at certain times to see the parents! (At least in the upper classes.)
ReplyDeleteOh definitely, the children didn't see the parents very much at all even when they are at home. I'm interested to know what the rich upper classes did in other countries.
DeleteI once shared a house in England with a very upper class Indian girl. She thought my three-year-old daughter was a very difficult child. (Honestly, she was not - back home n Sweden I was regarded as an unusually stern mother whose children were unnaturally well behaved.) I remember her saying once that when she and her two siblings were little they would amuse themselves in one end of the living room without ever disturbing their mother, who would be reading a book at the other end. Then she added: "But of course, our ayah was with us."
DeleteSorry, forgot to give my name in the comment above.
DeleteBut of course she was!
DeleteNothing divides people like bringing up children, and everyone knows their way is right...
My favourites are those who are extremely censorious and judgemental before they have children, convincned no child of theirs will ever behave like that, then change utterly when they have their own...
Not much fashion in the Barney mysteries, IIRC, but lots of lovely food.
ReplyDeleteIndeed, endless feasts. Having not described anything anyone wears (except yellow jerseys for riding) Blyton has a sudden unexpected moment in one of them where the awful Snubby buys second hand clothes in the village shop, looks bizarre, is mistaken for another youth, and is given a secret coded message as a result. I have spectacularly failed to find a suitable picture...
DeleteI don't think the Enid Blyton books are in my future. I don't have enough time to read all the books I have now. And I also noticed in Thirkell's books (I haven't read that many but I have a lot around the house) and and the Provincial Lady that children were sent off to school or cared for by others a lot. That should not bother me but it did.
ReplyDeletePerhaps you have to have read Enid Blyton in your childhood to have an interest as an adult - I would not be trying to persuade you to read.
DeleteI know just what you mean - I can't help thinking 'what were they THINKING?' about the arrangements for upper class children. Those of us from poorer families did a lot better.
I think you’re right about EB’s books not having that much appeal to anyone who hasn’t read them as a child (though as you’ve highlighted, they do raise a lot of interesting points about social attitudes of the time). I find myself very tempted to get hold of a copy of her “Six Cousins at Mistletoe Farm”, which I remember as a favourite and my gateway into the field of the pure Pony Book. Which is probably why I read less EB than I might have – the ponies took over!
DeleteSovay
That rings a bell, I wonder if I read it? I never had any interest in real-life ponies but could hack (yes!) a pony book...
DeleteLove these books takes me back to a happy time I can feel I am their with them fatty an pip are tops 👍
ReplyDeleteOh great! I love to find another fan. And they are absolute childhood favourites and comfort reads.
Delete