lwindrush wrote:Rereading Blyton is like discovering a hidden secret cave of the imagination where once I was young and free. Hope this makes kinda sense.
I used to go out on my bike and nobody knew where I was or where I was going. Even I didn't know where I was going half the time. I knew where I was of course, but I had no idea where I wanted to go, just made up my mind as I went along. I had no identification on me, no money, and nobody was ever worried.
It's so sad now that kids can't play out on the street and ride their bikes around town. Those that do are more often than not from the council estates, up to no good and their bikes are stolen. It's very sad.
Reading the Famous Five etc growing up, they were free to go off on their own, miles from home, camping and hiking, and even though they always had adventures, nobody ever stopped them from going off again when the holidays came around.
Although these days kids can watch adventures on DVD and see more vivid versions of stories, it was in reading Enid's books that my imagination kicked in, and I visualised Kirrin and all the other places that they visited in my head. There is definitely something to be said for reading adventure stories and stimulating the imagination.