“If a nation loses its storytellers, it loses its childhood.”
The recent movie, Goodbye Christopher Robin, illustrates not only the damaging impact of a work of fiction on the author’s relationship with his young son, but by contrast its restorative influence on a nation reeling from the horrific devastation of W.W. I.
While the exploitation of the child, Christopher, is tragic, the value that the book offered to England’s wounded collective soul is difficult to measure. A. A. Milne and C. S. Lewis were both veterans of that war. Their stories took not only the children but a disillusioned adult population by the hand, and gave it back a taste of innocent childhood. Winnie and Tigger offered comfort as friends while, a few years later, C. S. Lewis would tell of a magical wardrobe into Narnia. Both authors provided fanciful escape from the revelations of the evil at large in the world.
Today we still find solace in the pages of fiction. We dive into worlds where plots are tidy compared to real life, maybe even predictable, and characters become friends. The author leads us into an imaginative world. Like those who entered Winnie’s Hundred Acre Wood, we are children filled with wonder. Those are the books I want to read; those are the ones I very much need to write.
Which books helped define your childhood? I still remember many days playing Pooh sticks with my children.