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Works Cited Conrad, Joseph. Heart of Darkness and Other Tales. Ed. Cedric Watts. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1990. ---. The Nigger of the ‘Narcissus’. Ed. Jacques Berthoud. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1984. ---. The Rover. Eds. Andrzej Busza and J. H. Stape. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1992. ---. The Secret Sharer and Other Stories. Eds. J. H. Stape and Allan H. Simmons. London: Penguin, 2014. Watt, Ian. Conrad in the Nineteenth Century. Berkeley: U of California P, 1979.

Haru Takiuchi, British Working-Class Writing for Children: Scholarship Boys in the Mid-Twentieth Century

Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave, 2017. viii + 218 pp.

Reviewed by ARAI Megumi, University of Tokyo

In his introduction to The Puffin Book of School Stories (1993), the editor Bernard Ashley writes that when he was growing up, he never came across school stories which dealt with the kind of schools he was attending. The school stories which were available at that time were all set in boarding schools.

The boys I read about didn’t go home at the end of the afternoon, they went to their school Houses, where, instead of doing homework, they did prep; and at the end of term there were no school holidays for them, but vacations. And we identified with these remote characters and went around talking about doing our prep and having vacations – generally feeling inferior – because there was no alternative. (p. 2)

School Houses, ‘prep’ (short for preparation), and ‘vacation’ belong to the world of the public school (fee-paying independent school) where traditional school stories, from Thomas Hughes’ Tom Brown’s School Days (1857) to the popular Billy Bunter series (1908-40) have been set. In fact, the Billy Bunter series, which were originally published in the popular boys’ weekly magazine The Magnet, were written by Frank Richards, who himself had never been to public school, and were read, as George Orwell pointed out in his essay ‘Boys’ Weeklies’, by lower-middle-class and working-class children ‘whom Haru Takiuchi, British Working-Class Writing for Children: Scholarship Boys in the Mid-Twentieth Century 25 one might expect to be completely immune from public school “glamour”’ (Orwell, p. 96). Robert Roberts, in his account of his early life in a working-class slum of Salford, The Classic Slum: Salford Life in the First Quarter of the Century, describes how he and his friends had ‘developed an addiction’ to the Billy Bunter stories, and even developed a strong sense of loyalty towards Greyfriars, the fictitious public school where the stories are set. He then depicts the rude awakening he experienced when he realized that he belonged to the class of ‘cads’ who are so despised by the boys of Greyfriars. And yet, because there were no alternatives as Ashley points out, these school stories and the ‘public school ethos’ they promoted, made a strong impression on the lower-middle- class and working-class readers, often strengthening their sense of social inferiority and class consciousness. The series of education acts passed towards the end of the nineteenth century may have fostered in the children of the lower middle and working classes the habit of regular reading, but there were very few works written for this new class of readers. Haru Takiuchi points out in the Introduction to British Working-Class Writing for Children: Scholarship Boys in the Mid-Twentieth Century that although there were a number of working-class writers of children’s fiction in the first half of the 20th century, the majority of books which dealt with working-class children were actually written by middle-class writers (p. 4). Takiuchi’s book, however, does not deal with such works. His focus is on a group of writers from the working class who wrote children’s books in the 1960s and 1970s. Most of these writers were the products of grammar schools, which are state-run secondary schools that select their pupils by means of a written examination known as the ‘eleven-plus’, or ‘the scholarship’. In theory, grammar schools were intended to provide an opportunity for lower-middle and working-class children of limited means to receive a high level of education free of charge, and to go on to university and enter the professions if they wished to do so. Indeed, according to the writer Marilyn Yurdan, who herself went to grammar school in the late 1950s and wrote a book about her experiences, many found the experience a distinct advantage, which ‘opened up a whole new world’ (p. 185). And yet, because the grammar schools were modelled on the traditional public schools, the pupils were instructed not only in academic subjects, but in a whole new way of life; how to dress, how to talk, and how to behave. As Richard Hoggart comments in his The Uses of Literacy: Aspects of Working-Class Life, these pupils were ‘often translated, by a process of education, into membership of other classes’ (p. 305). In his book, Takiuchi examines the works of such ‘scholarship boys’; working-class children who were educated ‘outside their class’, and thus ended up in ‘a new kind 26 書 評 of social space where they found themselves caught between classes’ (p. 1). He takes up three writers in particular; Aidan Chambers, Alan Garner, and Robert Westall. These writers have won several prestigious awards and thus can be seen to be held in high regard and as influential in the field of children’s literature. Takiuchi points out, however, that their works are usually discussed in the context of middle-class culture, and not in connection with the working-class culture from which they have emerged. Takiuchi also raises the point that class has attracted less attention than issues such as gender and race in literary criticism, and citing Pierre Bourdieu’s theory of cultural production, suggests that literary critics are unwilling to appreciate the values of working-class cultures, as that would make the critics’ own position insecure (p. 3). As a result, ‘the voices of the British working class and the different set of tastes and views that working-class writers brought into British children’s literature have been continually neglected’ (p. 3), and it is this neglect that Takiuchi sets out to address in this work, focusing on the three ‘scholarship boy’ writers, and showing the influence and impact of their writing and activities on children’s literature in Britain. The book consists of three parts. Part I, which consists of two chapters, deals with the issues which arise between the authors and publishers. The first of these chapters looks at how some working-class writers overcame the ‘bias of children’s editors in favour of white middle-class children’ (p. 25), and enabled working-class writers to depict realistic working-class characters in their children’s books, thus providing stories and characters with which state-school pupils could identify. Especially interesting is the account of how, in the 1960s, two writers, Leila Berg and Aidan Chambers each launched a series of books for state school pupils. Leila Berg started the Nippers series, which was intended for state primary school children and replaced the middle- class Janet and John series and other similar readers which were the only reading texts available. Takiuchi gives a detailed account of how Berg introduced working-class characters in the Nipper series, and how, as a consequence, she had to face harsh criticism that the stories were vulgar and disgusting. It would have been helpful, perhaps, if Takiuchi had included quotations from the Nippers series to show exactly how these texts were ‘working-class’, and contrasted them with quotations from the Janet and John series, which, I remember from my British primary school days, were indeed tediously ‘middle-class’ with their birthday parties and polite dinner-time conversations. The same can be said for Takiuchi’s discussion of Aidan Chambers’ Topliner series which were designed for secondary modern school pupils, especially, as Takiuchi says at the end of the chapter, that the ‘Nipper and Topliner are almost forgotten today’ (p. 41), and not many readers today may be familiar with the texts. Haru Takiuchi, British Working-Class Writing for Children: Scholarship Boys in the Mid-Twentieth Century 27

The following chapter takes up Robert Westall’s semi-autobiographical novel, The Machine Gunners. This novel was first published by Macmillan Children’s Books in 1975. Macmillan was the publisher of the Nippers and Topliner series, and made the decision to publish the novel in spite of the swear words it contained, knowing full well that this might lead to controversy. It was re-issued in 1977 as a paperback by Puffin Books, which made some changes, especially in the language of the characters. Takiuchi makes a comparison between Westall’s original manuscript, the Macmillan edition, and the Puffin edition, and by doing so, looks at the relationship between ‘bad language’ and class in Britain at that time. The ‘respectable’ Puffin Books reduced the amount of swearing, but did not remove it altogether. Working-class characters were allowed their ‘bloody’ and ‘bugger’, but lower-middle-class characters were not, nor were policemen and soldiers, upholders of the country’s morals and values, allowed to swear. Middle-class swearing like ‘damn’, on the other hand, was allowed, and apparently, some of the ‘bloody’s were altered to ‘damn’ in the Puffin edition. Takiuchi points out that this was not simply censorship of ‘bad language’, but a reaction against ‘working-class swear words’, and that although it was now possible to publish working- class children’s books, elements of working-class culture (as represented by the ‘bad’ language) were still being excluded. In the second part of the book, Takiuchi looks at individual novels to show how works for children and young readers written by ‘scholarship boy’ writers are based on the experiences of the writers themselves. In Chapter 4 and Chapter 5, he looks at the works of Aidan Chambers. Aidan Chambers was born in 1934, and was of the first generation of working-class children to go to the state-funded secondary schools as established by the Education Act of 1944. Under this Act, the so-called Tripartite System of secondary education was established, which consisted of the grammar school with its emphasis on academic subjects and preparation for higher education, the secondary modern school, which with its ‘practical’ education was intended to prepare its pupils for jobs, and the technical school to offer training for ‘the technically minded’ (in actual fact, very few schools of this last category were actually opened). Chambers initially failed his eleven-plus and so could not go to grammar school, but was able to take the examination again when he was 13 years old, and transferred from his secondary modern school to a grammar school. According to Takiuchi, who gained the information through a personal interview, Chambers saw this change in schools as crucial to his success in becoming a writer (p. 70). On the other hand, he experienced the lack of confidence and sense of displacement which many working-class children experienced when attending grammar school, and this often traumatic experience was 28 書 評 the motivation behind Chambers’ writing. In the last chapter of Part II, the author takes up the writer Alan Garner, who is best known for his fantasy novels. Through an analysis of his 1973 novel Red Shift, which consists of three intertwining stories set in three different time periods, Takiuchi discusses how critics and scholars have tended to overlook the importance of Garner’s background as a ‘scholarship boy’ when evaluating his works. Like Aidan Chambers, Garner, who was also born in 1934, was a working-class child who went to a grammar school. Unlike Chambers, however, Garner’s background was the rural working class with strong connection to the land, and he thus felt an affinity with the ‘ancient aspects of British culture’, as can be seen in his retelling of myths and folk legends (p. 107). In this sense, Takiuchi regards Garner as the writer who ‘travelled furthest from his working-class roots and the one who has reengaged with them most fully and creatively’ (p. 107). His analysis of Red Shift shows that this work, a fantasy novel set in three time periods, Roman Britain, the English Civil War, and modern Britain, can be seen as a reflection of the writer’s own experience as a ‘scholarship boy’ in which loyalty to the dominant middle-class culture led to alienation from his rural working- class roots, giving rise to loneliness and despair. The final three chapters which make up Part III deal with criticism and reception. The author reminds the reader that most ‘scholarship boy’ writers were aware of the ‘potential power of children’s literature to change the class system’ (p. 134), and were thus involved in writing criticism with a view to bringing about changes in the children’s book industry. One of these attempts, described in Chapter 7, is the founding by Aidan Chambers and his wife Nancy Chambers of Signal: Approaches to Children’s Books, an independent children’s literature journal which was published from 1970 to 2003. In 1967, Alan Garner’s The Owl Service was published to high acclaim. It won the Carnegie Medal, was made into a TV series in 1969, and was highly praised as a ‘modern classic’, and yet contemporary reviews showed a lack of insight of and hostility towards class issues which angered Chambers. Signal was an attempt by Chambers to provide a place for discussions of class issues and other topics considered as radical in the field of children’s literature. The journal offered opportunities for other ‘scholarship boy’ writers to contribute articles expressing their views, such as the need for books written for state school children and young readers of the working class, and played an important role in bringing about changes in children’s book criticism and reception. In Chapter 8, Takiuchi looks more closely at the reception history of The Owl Service, and presents an interesting discussion on how the interpretation of the ending of the Haru Takiuchi, British Working-Class Writing for Children: Scholarship Boys in the Mid-Twentieth Century 29 story can be made clear when read in the context of class, and with the understanding of the social and educational background of the author as a ‘scholarship boy’. The main characters are Alison, an upper-middle-class girl, her stepbrother Roger, and Gwyn, the son of their cook. At the end of the story, when Alison is stricken down by some unknown force, Gwyn refuses to help her, and it is Roger who comes to the rescue, thus providing an ending quite different from the conventional happy ending expected of a children’s book. Takiuchi concludes that the very ambiguity of the ending, by providing various interpretations, made possible the approval of middle- class parents and teachers who failed to grasp, or chose to ignore the radical class issues depicted there. In effect, Takiuchi suggests that by virtually hoodwinking such adult critics, The Owl Service has succeeded in conveying radical messages to young readers, and this might prove to be ‘an effective challenge to British cultural hegemony’ (p. 170). Part III concludes with a chapter on Robert Westall’s Fathom Five, a 1979 sequel to The Machine Gunners. This work seems to have been neglected by scholars, and Takiuchi surmises that this may be due to the unfavourable reception it had when it first came out. The fact that it was probably ‘the first children’s book in which the protagonist becomes a friend of a brothel keeper’ (p.177) was bad enough, but Takiuchi argues that it was Westall’s attempt to discuss politics and class in a book for children that played a large part in its lack of popularity. And yet, this is the very element that makes this work important, as it attempted to depict the ‘intricate realities’ of the British working class (p. 181). Takiuchi mentions that one reviewer, for instance, showed their ignorance of working-class culture when they criticised the ‘classist statements’ in the book (p. 178). What the critic saw as a stereotypical class antagonism was in actual fact something more subtle: the prejudice of the upper working class toward the lower working class. In this sense, this work is of great historical importance, as it is ‘one of the earliest children’s books to show clearly the British class system as observed from the upper-working-class perspective’ (p. 182). We have indeed come a long way from working-class children’s books of the early 20th century, written by middle-class writers which, written however sympathetically, were still regarded as ‘patronising’ and written from ‘above and outside’ (p. 4). Takiuchi thus traces the emergence of working-class children’s books written by ‘real’ working-class writers, focusing on those writers, the ‘scholarship boys’, who received a middle-class education through grammar school and were, as a consequence, caught between two social classes. Using a wide range of resources, including first- hand material from personal interviews, he analyses the works of Aidan Chambers, 30 書 評

Alan Garner, and Robert Westall, and looks at how these works, together with their publishing history and criticism and reception, reflect the class situation in Britain at that time, and how they influenced and changed the representation of class in children’s literature. Takiuchi’s focus on ‘scholarship boy’ writers is itself interesting and offers fresh insight into this topic, though one cannot help feeling that he could, perhaps, set a little more distance, as it were, between the works of each writer and the writer himself. One gets the sense that the works of such ‘scholarship boy’ writers are necessarily an extension of the writers’ experiences, as the ‘creative’ aspects of these works do not seem to be discussed at much length. The plot of each novel, also, could be explained in a little more detail at the beginning of each chapter to help the reader with less well-known – at least to non-specialists of children’s literature – works. Having said that, there is no doubt that British Working-Class Writing for Children: Scholarship Boys in the Mid-Twentieth Century is an informative and stimulating work, and provides much food for thought on diverse matters related to British culture and class.

Works Cited Ashley, Bernard, ed. The Puffin Book of School Stories. 1992. London: Puffin Books, 1993. Hoggart, Richard. The Uses of Literacy: Aspects of Working-Class Life. 1958. London: Penguin Books, 2009. Orwell, George. Collected Essays. 1961. London: Secker & Warburg, 1970. Roberts, Robert. The Classic Slum: Salford Life in the First Quarter of the Century. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1971. Yurdan, Marilyn. School Songs and Gymslips: Grammar Schools in the 1950s and 1960s. Cheltenham, Glos.: The History Press, 2012.

Neil Roberts, Sons and Lovers: The Biography of a Novel

South Carolina: Clemson UP, 2016. xii + 191 pp.

Reviewed by NAKABAYASHI Masami, Sagami Women’s University

The process of creativity is usually mysterious, but when a writer revises his/her written text, glimpses of that process can come fleetingly into view. D. H. Lawrence frequently avoided detailed structural revisions, and regularly re-started a work from the beginning, rewriting it until he was satisfied. His working practice of producing