© John Atkinson Grimshaw
I suspect there’s a reason why fairies are found at the bottom of the garden: the bottom of the garden represents the limits of a child’s freedom. It is the furthest they can go from home without entering the big wide world – and it’s in this space between security and freedom that magic occurs.
Children have so little freedom. Freedom beckons, but is also frightening. Perhaps this is why I loved reading so much when I was a child. From the safety of an armchair in the front room or beneath the covers of my bed, I could escape safely.
When I was seven I loved books in which magical items transported children directly from the security of home into another world - stories like Enid Blyton’s
The Wishing Chair, in which an old chair intermittently grew wings and carried the children off on fantastical adventures. There was also Nesbit’s
Phoenix and the Carpet, in which an old rug turns out to be a magic carpet - and let’s not forget that wonderful flying bed in
Bedknobs and Broomsticks - or
The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, in which an old wardrobe provides the portal to freedom.
Part of the excitement lay in the fact that the children never quite knew when their adventure might take place. Nesbitt’s children always had to wait until their parents were out – and Blyton’s children had to keep going down to the playroom to see if the chair had grown wings. The appeal also lay in the fact that there was always the risk of mishap - along with the assumption that the children would return home safely.
When my friend’s daughter Elinor told me about a dream in which her bedroom flew, I was delighted. What a wonderful symbol her unconscious had conjured up to grant her both security
and freedom! She could go wherever she wanted without leaving the safety of her bedroom – and what’s more, she would have everything she needed with her: a raincoat, a book to read, a sunhat or a swimsuit …
So, inspired by Elinor’s dream, I wrote
The Flying Bedroom, a series of short adventures in which Elinor’s bedroom takes her to faraway places including a tropical island (from which her bedroom nearly floats away), the theatre (where Elinor reluctantly takes centre stage), and even to the moon (where Elinor helps a man called Niall fix his rocket). I’m hoping that
The Flying Bedroom will satisfy children’s longing for both security and freedom – the tension that never really goes away, no matter how old we are.
You can find more information about Heather Dyer and her books at
www.heatherdyer.co.uk
Kirsty Doole has been part of the OUPblog team since…possibly forever, and yet I don’t know that we’ve ever properly introduced her to all of you. Formerly known as the ‘UK Early Bird,’ she is our UK Contributing Editor and keeps me on my toes at every turn. To my great delight, she’s also joined me on the @OUPblog twitter account! Without further adieu, I present this (fantastic) Q&A. -Lauren
If you had to reread one book every year for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Jane Eyre. It’s my joint favourite book, alongside Mrs Dalloway. But the thing about Mrs Dalloway is that you (or rather, I) have to be in the mood for it. Jane Eyre works anytime. Also: Matilda by Roald Dahl.
What’s the longest book you’ve ever read?
A love of Victorian literature means I’ve read a few doorstops. I’ve just finished The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope, which is 1,024 pages. It’s brilliant, by the way, you should definitely read it.
What’s your most obscure talent/hobby?
I’m desperately boring and can’t think of anything particularly obscure. How about my favourite obscure historical figure? Robert Bontine Cunninghame Graham.
If you lost your voice for a week, and could only communicate by playing portions of a song, what song would you choose?
‘I Am The Walrus’ by The Beatles. Might as well have some fun confusing people.
What’s the funniest thing that ever happened to you?
It wasn’t funny at the time, but it’s funny now. Ten days before my undergraduate English Literature final exams I broke my writing arm. Due to the short notice I had to get friends and family to scribe for my exams because most of the postgrads who would have done had already left for the summer, or were in the middle of their own exams. A friend scribed the first exam, and out of the first three words of the first essay in the first exam, he misspelled two of them. Funny now. Thought I was going to cry then. How did I break my arm? Long story.
Where did you grow up?
A small town called Barrhead , about 8 miles outside of Glasgow, Scotland. The most famous alumnus of my high school is Gregor Fisher, of Rab C. Nesbitt fame. I have no idea if Rab C. Nesbitt made it outside of the UK, so it could be that as far as you’re concerned I’m my high school’s most famous alumnus.
If you had to live outside of the UK, where would you move?
I’m better at dealing with cold weather than I am with hot, so I might go and join my Dad in Oslo. That said, apparently Norwegian is tough to learn. So, how about New York during the Snowpocalypse? (You can tell I’m British by how important weather is to me.)
Cat’s Cradle vs. Rubik’s Cube. Go. (Unless you don’t know about cat’s cradle?)
Neither. When I was a kid I had a Rubik’s *Clock* .
How do you feel about hats?
Given a beanie hat and my husband’s glasses, I look like Meg from ‘Family Guy.’ Seriously.
How do you feel about American versions of British TV shows?
*Obviously* they are inferior. I’ve seen your version of &
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