Yes, yes, we all love Diana Wynne Jones, but what do we hate? A fiery debate is raging over on The American Scene about the worst children's books ever. Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree gets a hammering ("Tree loves boy. Boy loves tree. Boy grows up. Boy exploits tree. Tree takes it all silently, growing less happy with each lonely year."). But many have rushed to its defence.
I haven't read The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg but it also sparks controversy; I can't believe Judy Blume, The Little Prince ("the drunken musings of a leftist buffoon") and Winnie the Pooh are being considered, but – although I was (and probably still am, thanks to Angela Carter) a fairy tale fanatic – I am swayed by this rejection of Hansel and Gretel. "It starts with the dead mom (of course). The stepmother convinces the dad to murder the two children. He cannot carry through at the last minute, so he only abandons them to die in the woods. The children's bread-crumb trail is destroyed, and by chance they encounter a murderous cannibal whose home is decorated to attract children. The cannibal kidnaps the children and puts them in a feed pen. Thanks to her poor eyesight, the children manage to delay their execution and indeed are able to immolate her alive in her own oven. They steal her riches and return home (!!!) to their father, who thankfully does not attempt to murder them this time. And they all live happily ever after."
I am going to add Robin Jarvis's Deptford Mice books – I loved them when I was little, but I recently tried to re-read one and it was dire, and that really upset me (isn't it horrible when you return to a much-loved childhood book and find it's nothing like what you remembered?). I considered Fungus the Bogeyman – it scared me half to death – but looking back at it now I think it was rather wonderful, and I was just a very wimpy child, so that doesn't make my list. Winnie the Witch does though – my three-year-old niece loves her but I don't.
How about you? Anything you remember with loathing from childhood, or, as a parent, try to hide at the bottom of the bedtime reading pile?
