Illustration: Gordy Wright
Late to the party
It has taken me a long time to get around to reading this one; far too long considering now much I admired and enjoyed Darwin’s Dragons. However, whilst I own shelves of stories about children befriending a whole range of animals, domestic and exotic, I have to say that not one of their protagonists has actually developed a relationship with an octopus.* The idea had to be intriguing enough to spur me on, when I finally came across it. And am I glad I followed-up. What I discovered was a richly rewarding read.
I am always thrilled when, all too rarely, I come across real originality of imagination in children’s fiction, providing of course that its story is well written. Happily, My Friend the Octopus meets both these criteria outstandingly.
Late Victorian Brighton
One of Lindsay Galvin’s finest achievements is in capturing the late Victorian period generally and the seaside atmosphere of Brighton in particular. Like all the finest historical novelists, she does this not with extended exposition or description but by introducing a myriad telling incidental details into her narration, things that the characters accept as normal and everyday, but that point up to us differences that conjure bygone times..
This is compounded by outstanding writing, replete with rich, sensory references that takes us into her past world with engrossing immediacy. Here you can share such vicarious experience as young protagonist, Vinnie’s first experience of bathing in the sea from a bathing machine. And this is as nothing compared to the jeopardy and thrill of her half diving into a vast aquarium tank trying to tempt a giant octopus to eat. In another fine instance, the whole extended passage where staff are trying to move the monstrous creature from a large barrel into its new aquarium home is a writer’s triumph and a reader’s delight.
In the early stages of the story, the pace is slow enough for us to share every moment of over-protected, artistic Vinnie’s journey from a timid little thing, restrictingly tied to her milliner mother’s hat ribbons, into a strong and independent girl. Yet her journey is engaging enough, with an element of mystery thrown in too, to keep the pages turning.
Young would-be reporter, Charlie, ward of the aquarium keeper, makes a lively and entertaining accomplice, helping ably to lead Vinnie out of her shell. However, an even more valuable dimension is added to the story in the person of a second new friend, intelligent Temitayo, who has been ‘exported’ from her native Africa so that her imperialist ‘guardians ’ can show her off as a novelty - an educated black girl.
Later in the story
Later in her tale, Lindsay Galvin does not hesitate to show another side of Victorian society, the appalling conditions endured by the working poor, exploited by unscrupulous and avaricious industrialists. Her story develops gripping momentum and a much darker edge. Discoveries around Vinnie’s mother and the obnoxious Mr Jedders become deeply disturbing, and the situation sinks deeper into jeopardy, for the girl and her friends.
Underneath its entertaining, sometimes chilling, mystery, My Friend the Octopus develops significant themes, making it a most valuable addition to the contemporary children’s canon.Vinnie’s growth through the story not only involves coming into her own as an independent-minded yet caring individual, but also discovering which people truly love her. Perhaps even more pertinent, the story treats with the wicked exploitation for personal gain of appallingly treated human workers. It echos this too in the thinking of a businessman who wants to profit from the capture of exotic animals and colonialists who wish to exihibit a displaced African girl for the supposed novelty of her cleverness. Yet, for me, it is the story of Ghost, the octopus, and the beautifully sensitive and ultimately deeply affecting relationship Vinnie develops with her, that is the centre of this book. Anyone not aware of the nature of these wondrous creatures, afraid of even hostile to them, should read this story. Lindsay Gavin does here for octopuses what E.B.White did for spiders in Charlotte’s Web. And it is a very special thing.
Later this year
She seems to be heading rapidly for a throne next to that of Emma Carrol, as another queen of children’s historically-set fiction. And in this case two queens are most certainly better than one; there is ample room on our lucky shelves for both. It is a great pity that I did not read this book earlier, if I had it would most certainly have been included in my Best Books of 2022. On the other hand there is now less time to wait impatiently for her next book, Call of the Titanic, due out in June. She now has a very great deal to live up to. With her talent and track record, I am confident she will do so. However, there will never be another book special in quite the way of My Friend the Octopus. Because of it, I would never want to live in a world without octopuses. Even if I never actually see one, just to know the three-hearted, colour-changing wonders are there is enough.
Chicken House are to be warmly congratulated on the beautifully lavish paperback presentation of both this book and Darwin’s Dragons.
Note:
*Amazingly, another one seems to have just arrived on the scene, The Octopus, Dadu and Me by Lucy Ann Unwin, but I haven’t had a chance to read it yet. Jungian synchronicity?
