Another childhood idyll falls

This time it was the old favourite storybook series: Malory Towers. 

There had been a time, when I was twelve years old (i.e., not too young!) when I had had a heated debate with a literary critic about why she considered Enid Blyton politically incorrect, why she said women were misrepresented in her stories, because at that time, I still would not have taken a word against the author I had spent my childhood with. This time, as I read, I watched in mental horror as I myself critiqued her rigid sensibilities. Malory Towers, a haven to which all us youngsters had once wished and wished our parents would send us to, slowly dissolved in my opinion as a haven and became a structured prison! 

Not only is xenophobia more than painfully apparent in the characters of the two Mam'zelles, Dupont and Rougier, one being stringent and an ultra-prude while the other is gormless, but the conventionality and strict codes of conformation struck me as being even more painful! The girls themselves are snobbish, heirarchized and extremely exclusivist. For the first time in my life, I actually sympathized with Gwendolen Mary!! 

There seems to be a central core of exemplars in Darrell, Sally and Alicia. They decide who gets to fit in or not. Anyone who is different, is put down in a list for rectification. As if difference is necessarily a flaw! The talented girls all have weird quirks. Belinda and Irene, talented in art and music respectively, are scatterbrained, and often make fools out of themselves. Alicia, who was a little on the wild side, becomes acceptable in the later books, only after she has been tamed to the norms. Her wildness is only allowed to express itself in harmless tricks and jokes. The potential for her to become subversive is clipped, even before it has a chance to assert itself! Mavis, a girl who had an enchanting voice, was flawed with the sin of pride. Once she has been taught her place, she is willingly accepted, but her place is apparently well behind those of the main trio. Bill, a girl who loves horses, has her feminity disregarded. Since she is a good rider, obsessed with horses, comes from a family of 7 brothers, she is branded the archetypal tomboy without ever getting a say in the matter!  She isn't ever given a chance to grow into the woman she will eventually become, no space to discover her own identity for herself. In the fourth book, she is given a friend in the form of a girl named Clarissa, who, on account of becoming friends with the much marginalized Bill, is from the next book onwards, similarly side-tracked. Identity is a big problem in Blyton's school stories. All the girls seem to be bred towards a similar purpose. All the girls are white, and Christian. No representation of diversity. If one cannot fit in, one's edges MUST be trimmed until she can be forcefully made to fit inside a singular mould. The fact that in school, one makes choices regarding the sort of person she wishes to become doesn't appear of consequence to Blyton. In this respect, I believe she misses out on the point of school altogether! By the end, one gets bored. Through 7 years of school, all their education has done is to negate all notions and values of individuality. There is strength in community, not in singular purpose. The women are always denied the opportunity to assert their individual wills or personalities. Even academic excellence is not given precedent over social viability!

Gwen, according to me, is the most rebellious figure. In her continuous unwillingness to conform to the desired norms of womanhood and responsibility, no matter how negatively Blyton paints her, she stands out as the sole opposition to established authority. Because of this, I keep on cheering for her now! That there can be alternative human beings to Darrell Rivers can only be seen through Gwen!

People like my parents keep on stressing how evergreen a writer Enid Blyton was. In my opinion, creating a false idyll for children is ultimately disappointing. I don't know how I would have reacted to a socially conscious narrative between the ages of 5-12. In my currently enlightened state, I would like to believe socio-political awareness should start as early and as naturally as possible. But perhaps I would also be doing Enid Blyton wrong if I didn't consider her environment. Her era's prejudices seem extraordinarily blatant to us now, but maybe our own will seem just as blatant in times to come.