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| It's all there! |
An article in the current New Statesman on reading to children both caught my eye and called forth memories. Not that I had any such parental memories from childhood; I never experienced it nor did any of my friends, I think, though mature consideration tells me that indeed I did receive the pleasure of an adult reading aloud to me [and other children]. My parents certainly didn’t read to me and my sisters during our childhood, though I, as the eldest, often read to the other two. To be fair, I didn't know of any parents among my friends, who did read to their kids. But I still do remember Miss Betts; she was the fearsome form teacher of the primary [St Edwards] Top Class and taught us everything, in the manner of primary teaching. We pupils were all careful in our behaviour with Miss Betts, that is to say, we tiptoed along the continuum from being nervous, to terrified, of Miss Betts who dressed, chiefly in black, in long concealing clothes which reached to her ankles. Her hair was disciplined into a tight 'bun' at the back of her head and I only seem to recall her frowns not her smiles. In other words, Miss Betts' appearance suggested that of a sniper, resting watchfully!
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| This image captures the experience for the audience though not the visual image of the majestic Miss Betts. |
On every Friday afternoon of my last year at Primary School, the last longed-for lesson of the week involved the teacher reading the current book the class was studying. HOW I loved it and waited for Friday afternoons to come round eagerly, whatever the book. My memories are strongest of Miss B. reading The Cloister and The Hearth by Charles Reade, an historical novel published in 1861. I have absolutely no recollection of the text, but I discover now that it is set in 15th century Europe and follows Gerard Eliassoen, a young scribe, as his journey takes him far away from his beloved Margaret. When false news of her death reaches him, Gerard’s path leads him towards the Church, setting up a profound conflict between earthly love and religious duty. The book explores the collision between family devotion and clerical obligation across a vividly rendered mediaeval landscape. My love of this book, because of Miss Betts' dramatic readings, caused my eve helpful mother to buy me a copy for my Christmas stocking and I have it still! It remains chiefly incomprehensible but I was thrilled to receive it at the time.
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| Engrossed! |
Frankly, this does not sound
like a book for a ten-year-old, but I was bewitched by it and especially by
Miss Betts’ reading of it. In retrospect, I think it was Miss Betts’ reading
aloud more than the actual narrative, which captivated me. And now I recall
that there were around 50 ten-year-olds in that class, all listening,spell-bound, to
the story. Much later, when I taught secondary English Language and Literature,
I too read the class current novel to fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds and
again, the magic of a story of being read aloud to the group always had a
similar, almost magical, effect. Reluctant readers and skillful readers alike,
among the pupils, were always, SO eager to have the story read aloud. AND a
similar effect was always produced with my own young children when I read from
their books of choice before bedtime every evening.
Frankly, on a daily basis, reading to my kids seemed a bit of a chore when preparing the evening meal for my husband and me loomed large! AND yet, I really enjoyed doing it each time. The quiet cadences caught and enchanted them as they quietened and listened and shuffled closer together, eyes fixed on me with minds on the narrative. I doubt that now, half a century later, that they even recall those ‘close together’ times while listening to stories read aloud, forging instinctive memories and sensations of family closeness and magical stories. I did try several times, to persuade my husband to take my place but he always demurred. I think the idea of reading aloud to his children made him somehow uncomfortable, and he did not appreciate the value of doing so, to his relationship with them. A key disincentive for him, which I didn't consider at the time, was the mere fact that he didn't himself enjoy reading. He could do it but didn't choose to do it for pleasure for himself.
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| Rural reading together enhances the story |
I discover that there are interesting supportive statistics to be had! A 2025 survey by the book data company, NielsenQ and publisher, HarperCollins, found that just 41% of children aged 0-4 are frequently read to. This is a sad statistic for it suggests that around 60% do not have the real bonding pleasure of being read to by an adult.Interestingly, a similar exercise in 2012 recorded 64%. Today, it must be increasingly difficult to entice children away from tablets, computers and phones to the apparently less dynamic, less seductive book. And yet …. And yet ….. While alternative temptations are legion, caring adults must keep reading to any available children!.
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| Dolly Parton at 80, a few months before her death. She created the Imagination Library |
I do like the sound of the
Imagination Library started by Dolly Parton in 1995 in memory of her father who
could neither read nor write. The programme sends a free book each month to every
child who signs up, until their fifth birthday.
It has delivered over 300 million books worldwide and on September 22nd of this year, [a month after Dolly Parton’s death] it was announced that the
scheme would be expanding in the UK, widening access to books to 157,000 more children. This is unbelievably brilliant both in
concept and deed, especially so coming from such lowly beginnings. A fine and imaginative use of fame and a testament to Parton's life journey.
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