Cover art: Sarah McIntyre
Classic in more ways than one
Having already penned a couple of entertaining children’s books (as well as some very successful novels for adults), Lissa Evans hit the children’s fiction jackpot in 2017 with Wed Wabbit, a very funny, whimsical adventure with a good deal of heart that will be a much loved element of many a childhood for years to come.
Now this very talented and skilful writer has produced another strong contender for children’s modern classic status. There are many ways in which this book is reminiscent of the older classics of Edith Nesbit. Not that her works are at all similar in setting. Wished is markedly contemporary in its characters and their thinking, whilst the E. Nesbit titles are very much of their time, rooted in the style and social milieu of over a hundred years ago. Of course, there is much that remains common to childhood, across time.But it is not really that.
It is more that a storyline where children discover a magic item (or meet a magical creature) that grants wished, leading to a series of fantastic and sometimes unintended mini-adventures, is very much the sort of plot basis for Edith Nesbit too. In fact, the wishes theme is actually one that can be found in far more ancient and traditional stories from around the world too. This is, however, very much not a criticism of Lissa Evans’s new book. Quite the contrary. It is wonderful for today’s children to have some of the traditions of children’s literature reinterpreted and explored for their own time, in fully contemporary idiom. In this, it creates a reading experience that is rooted and resonant at the same time as it is immediate, accessible and hugely enjoyable.
Enchanting read
This is exactly what this author very much provides - and she does it quite wonderfully. Her characters and their attitudes are ones with which a wide range of children will readily identify. In this tale, where the children use the wishes from a set of forgotten birthday candles, both action and dialogue are often very funny indeed, not least the contributions from Attlee, a cantankerous (and exceedingly smelly) old cat, who gains the power of speech after one of the wishes. Lissa Evans keeps the whole narrative moving and very much alive by establishing a pattern of action following each wish and then subsequently subverting it in surprising ways. The whole is excitingly unpredictable and a feast of quite delightful imagination.
Inclusion too
This story has another very significant plus, though, in that one of its main characters is a boy who uses a wheelchair. These days, the range of diverse representation in children’s books is, thankfully, improving all the time. However, whilst there are now some outstanding representations of neurodiversity especially autism, as well as greater ethnic diversity, physical ‘disability’ is perhaps still under-represented. I see illustrations of children with wheelchairs in a good few picture books (especially from publishers like Barefoot Books), but far less of them as protagonists in mainstream fiction.And here the behaviour of Ed, the boy in question, is not in any way presented as a ‘handicap’. Apart from a very few practical limitations, he is an active participant in all aspects of the story’s action, as well as a fully and naturally accepted member of the protagonist group of three friends (plus cat!). As with all such welcome examples of inclusivity it is important for similar children to be able to find themselves in books and their sensitive representation helps other children develop awareness and empathy.
Hearts and minds
Overall, this is not a story for readers seeking to explore the harsher realities of real-life experience. Rather it is delightful escapism, that nevertheless has much to teach, not didactically, but through truthful modelling of believable children and a denouement that is both warm and wise. If the book has a moral, then it isn’t simply, ‘Be careful what you wish for.’ It is, rather, a far more positive urging to life, courage, and determination: ‘Don’t end up regretting things you wished you’d done, and could have done, but never did.’
Cover: Sarah McIntyre
