Five Children and It (Wordsworth Classics) [ペーパーバック]

This 1902 fantasy, a gift from my parents when I was in fourth or fifth grade, features an irritable Psammead whom Cyril, Anthea, Robert, Jane, and their baby brother dig up in a sand pit. Then the magic begins. The sand-fairy does not like granting wishes, and his misshapen body with bat's ears and snail's eyes bloats when he does. The wishes, lasting only until sunset, all take unexpected, funny turns.

The sand-fairy and other personalities and Victorian details render the magic entirely real-world, believable. This was my favorite children's book and I relived the delight when I found a copy to share with my own children. That this volume is illustrated by one of my favorite people from one of my favorite families triples the delight.

The book is too challenging for independent reading for children under 10, but it's a great read-aloud for small children, as are the classics of Frank Baum, E.B. White and C.S. Lewis.

Edith Nesbit was like J. K. Rowling a single mother in need of a means to support her children. Her books in their era were as popular as Harry Potter in this one. Some of her observations are surprisingly humane. Nesbit's treatment of a clan of Gypsies, for example, transcends the deep prejudice of her time. Not to worry, the book is not preachy or teachy. It's just grand, eloquent fun. Alyssa A. Lappen

I came upon E. Nesbit relatively late in life. I was a 20-something grad student when I found out that the "Bastables" referred to in C. S. Lewis' "The Magicians Nephew" were the children in an E. Nesbit book. Shortly after that, I found a copy of "Five Children and It" and eagerly read it.

I love E. Nesbit.

She writes in a way that is intelligent, snappy, and funny - at least to an adult. There are a lot of little side jokes in the book that seem to be aimed at the parent reading the book. I do think her books may be funnier to grown-ups looking back at childhood than they are to actual children.

And I'm afraid that many of today's children, made into literalists by the media and generally not appreciative of complex, "archaic" or "overly British" (at least among American kids) language may not get it. Which is a pity, really. The Nesbit stories are so good - so imaginative, so full of good use of language. I have read a number of her stories, but I think this is my favorite. It is basically an expansion of the old saying "Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it". Five children find a Sand-Fairy (or Psammead) that can grant them wishes. But the sand fairy is a cranky literalist, who interprets the wishes of the children just as they are and wild things happen (e.g., the children wish for great beauty, and then the people around them don't recognize them). This is an extremely entertaining book. Unfortunately, I suspect it may be beyond some of today's youngsters who tend to lack patience with complex or older language.

With the surging popularity of Lemony Snicket's, "A Series of Unfortunate Events", the time has never been better to gently urge children towards those literary classics that sound so mightily similar to their beloved Baudelaire sagas. And of the great children's authors that employed direct narration, few are so wonderful yet rarely remembered as the fantastic Edith Nesbit. The woman who single-handedly redefined the whole kid-fantasy genre. As the Books of Wonder edition of "Five Children and It" is quick to point out, until Nesbit happened along, children's fantasy novels either took place in some "far-off fantasy-land (Alice to Wonderland; Dorothy to Oz)" or simply began and ended in their own magical world (The Princess and the Goblin, for example). No one had really explored normal every day children stumbling across magic. And that, of course, brings us to the fabulous, "Five Children and It". Written in Nesbit's trademark snarky Edwardian style, the tale remains as amusing to children today as it did back in the early 20th century. I remember it fondly from my own tender youth, and since I'm only 27 that should certainly say something.

Now there were once five city children. The eldest was Cyril and the youngest was simply referred to as "the Lamb", since it was only a baby and was dearly adored and spoiled by its family. One summer the children have the delightful opportunity to be left in a seaside house with only their servants to care for them. While exploring the grounds of their new home, the kids come across a strange furry creature in their local gravel pit. It has extended eyes like a snail, the ears of a bat, monkey hands and feet, and a big furry spiderish body. It is, of course, a Psammead (or Sand-fairy) and the kids have a chance to make one wish a day. In your normal Edwardian novel, this might be a good thing and the kids might have delightfully boring adventures for the rest of the book. Not here. The Psammead, you see, is a bit of a jerk. A self-satisfied eternally complaining jerk. And whatsoever the children wish for, be it wings or money, somehow their wishes have a tendency to go awry. Still, when you've a whole summer before you and a pile of wishes waiting to be made, life can get very interesting indeed.

To my mind, Nesbit's best book is without question, "The Phoenix and the Carpet". That said, this is an excellent companion to it. Now I had the pleasure of reading an edition with the original Millar illustrations when I was young. And if you're a fan of pen and ink, that could certainly be a nice choice. But if you want an edition that's really going to get your children's attention, try the Books of Wonder publication with illustrations by Paul O. Zelinsky. Zelinsky, as it notes in the back of the book, had a great deal of difficulty drawing the Psammead since Millar's own version was uncommonly faithful to Nesbit's description. Nonetheless, Zelinsky has the advantage of color and full page spreads. So when the children acquire beautiful rainbow colored wings, you see them here in all their showy glory. Better still are the tiny black and white illustrations on the book's inside covers that show multiple amusing scenes from the book.

And as for Nesbit herself, none can compare. She employs the tone of a conspirator towards her child readers. Often adults are ridiculed for being too blunt and unimaginative to understand what's being said here. The book teems with plots that would be later employed and stolen by such future authors as C.S. Lewis and (more obviously) Edward Eager. In fact, as a kid I often got Eager and Nesbit mixed up in my head. Some critics of this tale sigh with great moans that the kids here don't talk like kids today. Well lah-de-dah. The children in the "Peanuts" comic strip don't talk like kids today either. Shall we just go chuck all of Charles Schultz's work into the Boston Harbor and forget he ever existed? Ladies and gentlemen, we simply cannot go about condemning classic children's books because our slang has changed. Kids today will still love "Five Children and It" and they'll adore its ridiculous plotting. If anything is dated about this book it's the truly odd moments of racism in it. Though Nesbit is to be applauded for giving gypsies a fair shake, the same cannot be said for American Indians. The British obsession with Native Americans is as puzzling now as it was then. So you should at least know that there's one chapter in this book that, if you don't particularly care for Edwardian stereotypes, can be easily skipped past if you so choose. Or not. It's entirely up to you.

In any case, this is a fine fine tale. They don't hardly make `em like this no more (though they certainly try to). A tip of the hat to Ms. Nesbit for all that she has done for children's literature. And a tip of the hat to every kid today that picks the book up for a lark. A memorable tale.