
As part of The Times’ project to Get Britain Reading Andrew O’Hagan wrote a piece in last Sunday’s edition about the books that got him reading. It took my mind rolling back through the years. So many authors have come to my mind and I would love to know what books you enjoyed?
It started, of course, by being read to, but once I was reading I loved the Little Grey Rabbit stories by Alison Uttley. In fact my older sister, Sarah, and I would read them to one another every Christmas, even when we were adult. We also both adored the Mary Poppins books and Babar the Elephant. Such magic.
Then there were all those other books about animals. Yes, Peter Rabbit and Beatrix Potter but Black Beauty made such an impression and Moorland Mousie even more so. B.B was one of my favourite writers as a child and I remember having a tantrum in a bookshop in Chester when my mother wouldn’t buy me his book Mr Bumstead, about a dog. She quite sensibly refused to do it at the time of my screaming fit, but softened later and I still remember the joy of losing myself in its pages. His Wizard of Boland Forest was magical, a pre-cursor to Harry Potter maybe. My father used to read Kipling’s Just So Stories and the Greek Myths to me when he got back from the office.
Struwwelpeter by Dr Heinrich Hoffman gave me nightmares. The terrifying illustrations are referred to on the cover as “funny pictures” for little children, which I found anything but funny. Characters with huge scissors aimed to cut off the thumbs of little Suck-a-Thumb. My goodness one would have needed a few trigger warnings on that book!

C S Lewis’ Narnia books took me into all those other worlds of imagination and I remember my friends and I creating games in the woods pretending we were in Narnia. Enid Blyton taught us a lot about friendship as well as adventure and what children could get up to when there weren’t adults endlessly supervising them, as sadly has to happen these days. That freedom was heady and my generation was lucky enough to experience it, allowed to go off on bicycle rides or pony rides for hours on end with no one knowing precisely where we were or when we would return.
As teenagers in the 60s there was no such thing as ‘young adult’ or other marketing categories when I was immersed in other worlds of reading. We read adult books way before we had lived any life of our own. We knew nothing of the world, of relationships, love, lust, marriage but Pasternak and all the Russians opened up my life and I wolfed my way through War and Peace in about 3 days I loved it so much. Georgette Heyer and D K Broster also whisked me off into imagined scenes of other places and romance. Then Colette, de Beauvoir and Sartre took me to Paris and Alberto Moravia to Italy.
It was the period of the angry young men writers and I thoroughly enjoyed John Wain’s books Strike the Father Dead and The Young Visitors. Iris Murdoch was another of my favourites, always stirring up thought, and I loved Elizabeth Jane Howard’s early books.
JP Donleavy The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B is another I remember and the Tom Sharpe books had me laughing out loud on the tube.
Later in life I discovered Elizabeth von Arnim and her German Garden and more witty subtle novels.
These days I think John Boyne is one of my favourite writers and his The Heart’s Invisible Furies was both witty, poignant and insightful about other lives.
We have recently read Mother’s Milk by Edward St Aubyn for our book club and I found it a brilliant read.
All this led to me writing No Lemons in Moscow – now coming up to two years since publication! So happy to receive good reviews such as
“What a beautiful read. I couldn’t put it down! The tenderness in the ending is really special. A good insight into 1990s Russia and London. Highly recommend!”
And that make me think that my publisher would suggest it might make a good Christmas present for someone you know …?
Anyway, happy reading. I hope these memories have triggered some of your own and I would love to know the books that set your mind alight – and the books that keep you reading in the midst of this overwhelming world of distraction.

