The Foreign Reader

In ‘Bridge to Terabithia’, we meet Jesse, a young boy who is bullied at school and at home. What he loves most in the world is running and drawing, and neither is encouraged by his family. His life changes when he meets Leslie, a girl who has just moved to the area, and they become best friends, defeating bullies together and creating an imaginary world in the woods called ‘Terabithia’ that they can escape to. 

Jesse and Leslie’s friendship is something that I tried to model all of all my childhood friendships on. They give each other courage and support, they are understanding of each other, and they bring out the best in each other. Good friends can truly transform your life. What I love especially about this book, is that it defies gender boundaries: everyone is shocked at first when Leslie runs with the boys, but it soon becomes accepted, and Jesse’s love of drawing is at first derided by his father, but later praised. 

The writing is full of warmth and humour with delightfully American descriptions such as ‘sweeter than a melted Mars Bar’ or ‘sweatier than a knock-kneed mule’ -- I found Jesse’s life and family fantastically foreign and I devoured the book and its new turns of speech.

It is the last section of the book that is so devastating. I remember the first time I read it, I didn’t quite understand what had happened... I had to reread it, tears streaming down my face, before I realised the finality of the events. I was seven, and didn’t have anyone to whom I could speak to about it, and it was only on rereading it many many times that I began to understand. When I lost a friend at the age of 13, I thought of Jesse and Leslie.

Paterson wrote the book when her son David’s best friend Lisa died after being struck by lightning on a beach. She was only eight years old. 

‘The only way I could keep her alive was not to write that chapter. As I tell in [Stories of my Life], going to a friend's house and the friend says, "How's your book coming?" And I just blurted out that I was writing a story about a friendship between a boy and a girl, and the girl was going to die, but I couldn't let her die. And so I said to [the friend], "I think I just can't face Lisa's death again."’

Katherine Paterson, 2014, Interview with NPR

It is the stark reality and finality of the last scenes that make this novel so unforgettable and such an important part of the canon of children’s literature. It has been censored by various groups ever since its publication in 1977, and even today, many parents and schools around the US still question whether it should be read by young children. On this Paterson has said, 

‘...the more you write the more you realize that if a book has any power, it also has the power to offend, and there were many people offended by this book. And I'm sorry, because I don't like to offend people, but I know it was a story that I had to tell, and I had to tell it in the way I told it. So, I can't apologize for it. I can feel sad that it was hard for them.’

People calling for the censorships of ‘Bridge to Terabithia’ point to various things: that Jesse uses the word ‘hell’ and blasphemes, that the story alludes to the fact that (*gasp*) Santa Claus might not exist, that the story has satanic overtones (just... what?), and of course, the death of a child. 

And it is all of these things that enhanced my understanding of the world and of myself. 

In a world where some children are lucky enough to be sheltered from death, this book takes you gently by the hand and shows you that when bad things happen, there is still hope. It drove home to me that we need to hold on to those we love, no matter how old we are, and that when the absolute worst happens, we will survive and we can remember them. 

10. ‘Earthly Joys’ by Philippa Gregory

Gregory is a true master of historical fiction -- the ‘sweeping’ kind, as they are so often referred to -- and indeed, all of her books are ambitious and span various time periods with large casts of characters, all described with a wonderful eye for detail.

In ‘Earthly Joys’, we follow John Tradescant, a ‘celebrity’ gardener of sorts and confidante to Sir Robert Cecil in the 1600s. The narration melds the political with breathtaking descriptions of the gardens John creates, and brings the reader closer to the real work of planning and building a garden worthy of its estate. We follow Tradescant as he scours the world for new flora, and as he moves from household to household, navigating social divides in the turbulent times leading up to the English Civil War.

The sequel ‘Virgin Earth’, follows John’s son who becomes gardener to Charles I -- I’m very excited to read this one too.

9. ‘Kew Gardens’ by Virginia Woolf

Nobody reads a Woolf novel expecting a page-turning plot, and ‘Kew Gardens’ is no different -- instead, it is a meandering, beautiful ode to London’s Kew Gardens. Woolf’s ear for descriptive language is second to none, and you can truly lose yourself in her tender and witty descriptions if you give it the time and the patience it demands. The characters in the novel almost become flowers and insects themselves and their dialogue mimics the pleasant background hum of a lazy summer afternoon. 

‘They were both in the prime of youth, or even in that season which precedes the prime of youth, the season before the smooth pink folds of the flower have burst their gummy case, when the wings of the butterfly, though fully grown, are motionless in the sun.’

8. ‘Atonement’ by Ian McEwan

I’ve read almost all of McEwan’s books, and ‘Atonement’ is still my favourite. It is full of repressed sexual-tensions (the best kind), war, young children who lie, and regrets, regrets, regrets. The pivotal scene in the first section of the book takes place in the beautiful garden of the Tallis family’s country estate, where two worlds cross: that of the upper class Cecilia, and that of Robbie Turner, the son of the housekeeper. It’s all very star-crossed lovers type stuff, but it is Briony’s self-conscious yet naive narration that elevates this to a classic. 

7. The Complete Tales of Beatrix Potter

Beatrix Potter was an all-round bad ass woman of many talents: writer, artist, business entrepreneur, sheep farmer, gardener, mycologist and conservationist. Her children’s stories are a part of the British canon, and she built a Peter Rabbit empire -- seriously, just go to the Lake District, where Beatrix lived in the later years of her life, and you’ll be surrounded by places dedicated to her legacy.

She based most of her illustrations on her own home and gardens at Hill Top Farm by Esthwaite Water in Near Sawrey, and featured her neighbours and the raw northern countryside around her. Each illustration is filled with love and admiration for nature and English country life. 

6. ‘Hothouse Flower’ by Lucinda Riley

Orchids are the most fascinating family of flowers, and Riley takes us from the humid tropics of Thailand, an orchid’s natural habitat, to the hothouses of a Norfolk estate, Wharton Park. It’s a multi-layered story that weaves backwards and forwards between the modern day protagonists Julia and Kit, and the secrets that their ancestors kept from them. 

As with all of Riley’s heroines, Julia Forrester is complex and relatable and never conforms to stereotype. Characters overcome their troubles by understanding and forgiving events of the past, and there are so many twists and turns in this novel that you must read it in one sitting. 

(Full disclosure: I am Lucinda Riley’s research assistant, and might be a little bit biased, ha! This is the first book I ever read by her, before I even started working for her, and I absolutely fell in love with it, especially her descriptions of Thailand and Norfolk.)

5. ‘Through the Looking Glass’ by Lewis Carroll

Caterwauling daisies and rude roses. The Garden of Live Flowers is only one section of a brilliant novel that will lead you to question time, space, language, life, reality -- everything, basically. It is a work of genius, and more importantly, it is really entertaining.

4. ‘The Amber Spyglass’ by Philip Pullman

The ‘His Dark Materials’ trilogy are three of my favourite books of all time, and are, in my opinion, required reading for everyone. Lyra is the most forceful, intelligent, stubborn and resourceful character and she inspires us to never stop questioning authority and to always stay loyal to your friends. 

‘The Amber Spyglass’ is the final book in the trilogy; the war that has been brewing is finally raging. Will and Lyra are at the cusp of adulthood and have to make heartbreaking sacrifices. And amongst all this chaos, there is a quiet little bench in the Oxford Botanical Gardens. A bench that connects two lovers in two separate worlds.

I can’t read this book without bawling. Like, full-on keening and sobbing. It is brilliant.

(And for anyone who is ever in Oxford, Will and Lyra’s bench is actually in the Botanical Gardens, and you can sit on it and have a cry there too.)

3. ‘Rebecca’ by Daphne du Maurier

‘Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.’

This darkly gothic exploration of jealousy is perhaps du Maurier’s most famous novel, and justifiably so. The atmosphere she creates makes the Manderley estate a character in its own right, its gardens and buildings shifting with the changing moods of the unnamed narrator, whom we only ever know as ‘the second Mrs de Winter’: a young woman who marries a rich widower with more baggage than an airport carousel. The ending is an absolute nail-biter, it’s fantastic.

Du Maurier’s Manderley was inspired by the Menabilly estate near Fowey in South Cornwall, and it will give you the most ridiculous home-owner envy.

2. ‘Elizabeth and her German Garden’ by Elizabeth von Arnim

‘Wait a minute,’ you might be thinking now, ‘why have you snuck in a German garden??’

Because Elizabeth von Arnim is one of my favourite writers: she is bitingly witty, sarcastic and satirical, and while her novels all have quite gentle titles, such as ‘The Enchanted April’ or ‘The Solitary Summer’, they skewer contemporary society and are filled with the most hilarious characters.

Elizabeth von Arnim was an Australian-born British writer, but later married a Prussian Count in the 1890s (there were loads of those back then). ‘Elizabeth and her German Garden’ is semi-autobiographical, and describes the daily life of the British protagonist Elizabeth, as she learns to tend the estate’s garden in Brandenburg, and attempts to integrate into the German society that she finds so alienating. ‘I believe all needlework and dressmaking is of the devil, designed to keep women from study,’ Elizabeth notes at one point. You can’t not love her.

1. ‘The Secret Garden’ by Frances Hodgson Burnett

No surprises here, this novel has to be at number 1. I mean, [SPOILER ALERT] being in the garden CURES Colin and lets him walk again, it is that magical. (But seriously, I think almost everyone over the age of 12 has surely read this book or at least seen the film?)

The story follows the spoilt 10-year-old Mary Lenox, who is orphaned when her parents die of cholera in India. Sent to live in a dark and gloomy mansion in Yorkshire, Mary is a Class-A brat -- but a friendship with local boy Dickon, the discovery of a secret garden, and a growing relationship with her angry and sickly cousin Colin all teach Mary greater empathy and kindness. This is the ultimate endorsement for why gardens are the Best Thing Ever, and also that they really do have a positive effect on our mental health. So go out and just sit in a garden or a park; lie down in the grass and take in the scents, it’s the best thing to chase away sad thoughts.

Now make yourself a pot of tea and get reading!

This book, originally published in 2000, was already a bestseller in South Korea, where Hwang is a well-known author, and the book has been adapted into a box-office breaking animation film, Leafie, A Hen Into the Wild. So really, the English-speaking world came to the party pretty late, in 2014, but damn are we glad we finally got there.

Hwang tells the story of Sprout, a naive farmyard hen, who dreams of laying her egg in the wild. Managing to escape her coop, she goes on an adventure where she finds that freedom has its ups and downs, and that learning who to trust can be tricky. I won’t say any more about the plot, as the book is a scant 127 pages. It is the casual charm of Hwang’s writing that make this book a true gem, and that kept me absolutely captivated...

‘Sprout was the best name in the world. A sprout grew into a leaf and embraced the wind and the sun before falling and rotting and turning into mulch for bringing fragrant flowers into bloom. Sprout wanted to do something with her life, just like the sprouts on the acacia tree.’ 

In an interview, Hwang states that she didn’t write it with a specific lesson in mind, but that she hoped that readers could reflect on their lives after reading Sprout’s story. And it truly did have me looking at the world in a different way, and reevaluating old hurts and friendships with more empathy. The story is about moving out of the familiar and towards something new and challenging, which is a terrifying thing to face at times.

Although the book has been heavily marketed to emphasise motherhood, Hwang finds it ironic that so many people have interpreted this as the main theme. Instead, she explains that it is about how human beings go about their lives, how we pursue our dreams. Everybody’s journey lies within that act of laying an egg. The original South Korean title ‘A Hen Who Moved Out From Its Farmyard’ reflects an idiom that describes a person going out into the unknown. The story plants that little seedling of motivation within you.

The illustrations by Kazuko Nomoto are simple and whimsical, and Chi-Young Kim’s translation perfectly captures the different ‘dialects’ of all the animals.

Published in English by One World Publications, this publishing house is dedicated to international literature and diversity. They have an amazing list, and I’m really looking forward to one of their new publications, ‘The Meursault Investigation’ by Kamel Daoud, out this July.

It seems that the incredible success of this translation of ‘The Hen Who Dreamed...’ has sparked more interest in South Korean literature -- I’ll be reviewing Ahn Do-hun’s ‘The Salmon Who Dared to Leap Higher’ soon.

In short, ‘The Hen Who Dreamed...’ is definitely a story for when you just need that little push to do something that’s been scaring you for a while. Go for it!