The haunted wood of children’s literature
Britain’s beloved childhood books are realms of conflict and pain as much as nostalgia and delight.
By
New Times,
New Thinking.
Britain’s beloved childhood books are realms of conflict and pain as much as nostalgia and delight.
By Frank Cottrell-BoyceI curled up on the big chair ready for more stories about these jolly trolls with their magic hats…
By Frank Cottrell-BoyceA survivor of the Somme, the man who invented Winnie-the-Pooh wrangled with his conscience in his non-fiction – trying…
By Frank Cottrell-BoyceMy uncles and my grandads were at sea. I always felt the call but liked my family, my city…
By Frank Cottrell-BoyceThere’s a haunting story by Leon Garfield about a clerk who sells seven years of his own life to…
By Frank Cottrell-BoyceIt was boredom that produced Thorn and hundreds of artists like her. Now that it’s gone we might miss…
By Frank Cottrell-BoyceTheir performance showed me that sincerity always beats irony.
By Frank Cottrell-BoyceYou wouldn’t invite Harvey Weinstein to a festival of films by great female directors. And you wouldn’t invite the Sun to Liverpool.
By Frank Cottrell-BoyceThe prose is so clear that it feels less like writing and more like a surrendering to memory itself.
By Frank Cottrell-Boyce