Alfie
May 5, 2011
HERE IS Alfie, the unforgettable little boy in a series of children’s books by the well-known British illustrator and author Shirley Hughes. When they were little, my sons and I read the Alfie books again and again, particularly the one (Alfie Gets in First) about the day when Alfie accidentally locked his mother out of the house and the other (Alfie’s Feet) about the time he goes to the shoe store to buy new boots. Hughes’s illustrations are charming. With their warm, rich colors and interesting domestic details, they vividly capture the expressions and movements of young children. Hughes has a sense of how ordinary episodes become for them high drama.
When Alfie gets his new boots, he comes home and puts them on right away. He goes to the park, but discovers something is seriously amiss. Most children have experienced at some point the same problem, which is why people sometimes write R’s and L’s on perfectly good boots.
The first of the thirteen Alfie books, which are set in a middle class neighborhood of London, was published in 1981. Alfie and his sister Annie Rose come from a perfectly normal family and their mother takes care of them all day. They go to simple birthday parties in urban backyards and Mrs. MacNally’s daughter Maureen babysits. The stories of the small incidents of their lives are appealing to children between two and five.
Here is an interesting 2009 interview with Hughes, who has written and illustrated more than 50 books. The inspiration for the Alfie stories came from watching her own children play in the garden behind their home in Notting Hill Gate, which has since become a more elegant neighborhood. Few children play outside anymore, she says. Hughes is 83 and, as of two years ago, she was still working.
In this interview with a publisher, Hughes says, “I want the children looking at my books to feel that they want to see round the corner; I want them to feel they are in the picture they are looking at…. I would like to think I draw with sentiment but never with sentimentality. Family life is a high drama, not a sweet idyll.” This may be so, but the drama in the Alfie books is sweet and idyllic.
— Comments–
Hurricane Betsy writes:
I, too, had to read that lovable story [of Alfie and his boots] about 800 times. That, and The Jolly Postman, with the little envelopes. Boy, are the memories ever swimming back.
Simone writes:
My most cherished book as a child was Dogger by Shirley Hughes. It was also my brother’s favourite book, and oh how we fought over the ownership rights to what was supposed to be our joint copy. (My brother ultimately won that battle and is now in possession of the orginal.)
Even as a child I can remember thinking about one day reading this story to my own children, so when it came time to buy a new copy of Dogger a couple of years ago for that very purpose, I was more than a little excited. I was so sure they would fall in love with Dave and Bella the way I had done all those years ago, and was hopeful that they might use the story to reflect, as I know I did, on the very special relationship that can exist between siblings.
The truth is that my children like Dogger and the Alfie books, but (and it shames me to admit this on your blog) they like Barbie books a whole lot more. They literally beg me to read this trash to them and, so help me, through gritted teeth and thinly veiled disgust, I do it.
I’ve read enough to know that I’m probably not doing my children any favours by reading them Barbie stories and the like, but the thought of consigning them to the recycling bin I find somewhat unsettling. A little bit of Barbie, I try to tell myself, most unconvincingly, is like a little bit of junk food, i.e. alright in moderation.
Do you have any thoughts on this? Did you ever read the equivalent of a Barbie book to your boys when they were younger?
Laura writes:
Some junk literature is definitely okay. It’s only a problem when that’s all there is. My younger son loved a book about the Power Rangers. We had a video of one of the shows and we read the book many, many times. We will always remember the final line. The Power Rangers have all been through a long ordeal fending off the Putty people and Billy says, “Smoothies for everyone!” That line is immortal. Sheer poetry. “Smoothies for everyone!”
It was just a phase. I read junk too when I was a child, but it tends to fade from memory.
