Back when I was in primary school (don’t even think of asking when that was), I was a regular of what I remember as our tiny library. I favoured fantasy and shunned anything based on real life. I found Nancy Drew and The Famous Five irritating in the extreme, which is ironic given my current obsession with police procedurals. I just felt that the language was too dumbed down and I felt patronised. Then at eight, a friend introduced me to the fabulous world of Roald Dahl. It was love at first read. Even after my second foray into children’s writing, I have not found his equal. His special brand of slightly wicked fantastic tales, absolutely brilliant prose and superb imagination combined to give me hours and hours of pleasure, and will again thanks to parenthood.
My own set of Dahl books are pretty worse for wear and stuffed in boxes until our new house is built. We had one copy of James and the Giant Peach, highly illustrated that Iris has only recently begun to enjoy given the amount of words and her goldfish attention span. I was therefore almost hopping for joy when I encountered this copy of The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me at a Salvos (Salvation Army store) for $2.25 and in immaculate condition. And it’s illustrated by the supreme Dahl illustrator, Quentin Blake. I was in Book Heaven.
Since I began my affair with Dahl when I was already well into reading, I’ve focused more on his novels than the shorter stories like The Enormous Crocodile and The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me. Thus, I admit with shame that I’ve never read the latter. Yet, more’s the better because I get to share that unique pleasure of reading a Roald Dahl for the first time at 37 with my four-year-old.
It is not a book for the amateur, tired or lackadaisical reader. My husband got told off by Iris for rushing and not reading it right. It has quite a lot of words and those who are familiar with Dahl will know how badly he likes to twist one’s tongue , especially when it comes to confectionery. This is the other reason I love Dahl. He obviously has a sweet tooth like me and he is second to none in making up names for things.
The story follows Billy who has always dreamt of owning a Grubber, or sweet shop, particularly the abandoned one in his village. Then along comes a window cleaning crew, who take it over and set up shop. This is no ordinary crew……you know what, I’m not going to bother summarising this story because it is Roald Dahl and I think everyone, EVERYONE should read it themselves. Here are a couple pictures though to give a glimpse into his fabulous genius.