It has been a weekend of inclement weather. When the Siberian winds finally dropped, the snow fell, closing roads and making even the shortest journey hazardous.
Snow always takes me back to childhood, even when it is inconvenient or the conditions on the roads become downright scary. There is a magical quality to the silence and purity that blankets the world and that feeling seems to override any memory of the impracticality or frustration heavy snow can bring.
Two of the first ‘proper’ books that I remember lsitening to when I was a child feature snow. One was The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis, which must be one of the best loved children’s books around. The other is far less well-known these days.
I remember being curled up against my mother, probably way too young for the horrors of the story by today’s standards. I listened entranced as Kitty took the journey from Good-night to Good-morning on Christmas Eve. The book was ‘Down the Snow Stairs’ by Alice Corkran.
The book left an indelible imprint on my mind. Many years have passed since my mother had first read the words of an earlier century to me. I hadn’t seen the faded blue-green cover with its evocative, gilded picture since my childhood, yet so well did I remember it, that a chance find a couple of years ago had me pouncing on the copy, exactly the same edition as the one I remembered.
It was published in 1887 and is the kind of Victorian moral tale that can give a child nightmares. Goblins and strange creatures personify all the ‘crimes’ of childhood as Kitty, having thoughtlessly caused her little brother’s illness, journeys through a landscape where she sees all her faults brought to life in the Land of Naughty Children. She sees the great spiders weave the Webs of Lies that entrap children, watches those who are lost in the Maze of Disobedience, and weeps for the frozen children who chant a litany of ‘Me-me-me,’ grasping with icy fingers at anything they can, taking it only so that no-one else may do so, yet finding no pleasure in aught they touch.
It is near the end of her journey that she meets Love, she who can give the Kiss of Forgiveness and set them free. Love shows Kitty the beautiful guardian child and the playful sprite of temptation that accompany all children and shows her the star that will guide her home. Kitty, however, plays with the sprite and listens to its promptings, meeting many more strange creatures… like I and Myself, a child and the image of himself that he has created and which occupies all his attention.
At last she listens once too often to the sprite, obeying the whispers of temptation and her guardian child fades and withdraws. It is only when Kitty realises her error and gives the child her absolute trust that the guardian can return, called back by Love.
Though the tale might well be dated and seems to heap the guilt of sin upon the head of Kitty and the other children who disobey the strict Victorian code, there is loving forgiveness too and the chance to try again. Persistence and perseverance, courage and wonder are the lingering taste of the story for me. The illustrations by Gordon Browne stayed with me, the pictures as familiar now as they were so many years ago. Yet beyond the dated pictures are other images, even stronger, imprinted on the pages of the imagination that carried a deeper message. The book addresses aspects of childhood behaviour, and misbehaviour, yet the analogy to the way we can lose sight of our innermost self in the distractions of the world, even as adults, is a strong one.
Fairytales and children’s stories are sanitised today, their horror is removed or softened in a Disney-esque manner to safeguard small minds from traumatic images.
Quite apart from the symbolic meanings of many of these stories, such tales once served a purpose, allowing children to face the very real nightmares of life within the safe environment of a mother’s arms and within the pages of a book.
Oddly enough, although I remembered the story and the images I formed in my mind of Kitty’s journey, it was not the gothic horror of Victoriana that made its mark. What remained with me above all was the idea of that beautiful guardian child… the inner child of the universe… a voice of clarity born of Love that always knows the way Home.
Great plot and quite imaginative, I thought.
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It was a starange book.
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I noticed that.
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Thank you.
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How wonderful that you found a vintage copy of your beloved book. Books can make such a difference in a child´s life which forms their adult life as well.
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I can trace so many things back to those childhood stories.
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Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
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Thanks, Jaye x
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How wonderful to find the very book you loved as a child, Sue, and I loved the me, myself, poem!
I have been searching for the illustrated copy of Jane Eyre that both thrilled me and frightened me to death all those years ago, with no luck.
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Odd how some of these things keep a hold on the memory and heart.
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Especially when the childhood in question was full of things I would rather forget!
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There were a few of those in mine too. But books are always good memories.
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My daughters and I were just wondering last night if Pippi Longstocking is still OK to read to children. Pretty soon there will be nothing left that’s acceptable. (K)
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I’ve read my sons some ‘terrible’ books by modern standars. they seem no worse for it 😉
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Mine either.
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How we see the story as a child is far different than how we see the same story as an adult. You were left with what the story was intended to impart. I’m halfway through a post on my mother’s Grimm’s Fairy Tales.
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The old fairy tales had some real horrors in them… but are a safe space for a child to explore the world.
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Well said, Sue.
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I think it would serve humanity well if that book was required reading for everyone — children and especially adults — today. I’d love to read it. I am going to see if I can get it through the library.
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It is both dreadful and brilliant, Fransi. Worth a read though 🙂
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I’m going to see if I can get it
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Let me know if you do 🙂
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I will for sure 😊
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🙂
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When I think of stories of snow and childhood, the first to come to mind is “A Child’s Christmas In Wales” by Dylan Thomas, especially his own reading of it.
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“It was always snowing at Christmas….” 🙂
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What a lovely conclusion to your post, Sue. I remember those old grisly fairy tales with the gorgeous illustrations and their stern morality. But like you, what stuck with me were the beautiful parts, the magic and the goodness, which always prevailed. ❤
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They always did…and that is not a bad lesson to learn as a child. ❤
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I understand why you have fond memories of this book, so strange that sometimes so scary is for children. I remember reading Tom’s midnight Garden, I loved that book and also The Snow Queen. The Snow Queen always frightened me!
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Children seem to enjoy getting the shivers from stories…
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Yes and the Brothers Grim and Anderson especially did write scary ones!
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Yes, they did!
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😵🙃😱🤔
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Reblogged this on Die Erste Eslarner Zeitung – Aus und über Eslarn, sowie die bayerisch-tschechische Region!.
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Thank you 🙂
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My Uncle Jack was a lithographer — printer, not an artist. But I had stacks of these books as a kid and I remember less the contents than the smell of the illustrations. And the feel of those engraved covers. This brought back memories because I think it’s possible I still have some of them. I have to go and look in my forgotten bookcases.
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That’s wonderful, Marilyn… I do hope they are still there 🙂
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The author would probably sit in horror if they saw all the temptations children have today. 😦 — Suzanne
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I rather think you are right, Suzanne… though the basic human morality should still serve them well.
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