I think it’s a little too long since I discussed the Famous Five. I’d think this even if there hadn’t been a three year hiatus of articles on Heath the Rat’s Silly Page, so this being the case, I feel that an immediate article on the subject is due. And because the only Famous Five book I have to hand is Five Get Into Trouble (book number 8, if anyone’s interested), I thought I’d better focus on this particular book.
Five Get Into Trouble is, I think, the first Famous Five book I ever owned. It consequently has a special place in my heart, though that isn’t going to stop me ripping it to shreds (figuratively, not literally, unless I get very annoyed with it) in this article. A brief summary of the plot is that the Five go off on a cycling tour, cycling merrily through the countryside and stopping for massive meals every half hour or so. They run into a boy called Richard, who joins them on the cycling tour. Richard is, however, wanted by a criminal called Rooky, and in the middle of the night, Dick is kidnapped instead of Richard. The remaining Five and Richard track Dick to a big house on a hill which is swarming with criminals, get trapped in there themselves, and spend the second half of the book trying to get out, a feat which is achieved by having Richard hide in a car and fetch the police, who come along and arrest everybody involved. Having recently watched the Comic Strip Five Go Mad In Dorset, I have the feeling that this is the book that programme was mostly based on.
The main theme of Five Get Into Trouble is that Richard is an irresponsible, arrogant cowardly arse who is eventually infected with the moral standards of the Famous Five, and presumably becomes henceforth a valuable member of society. While Richard is a little bit of a tosser, unfortunately it’s Julian who comes off worst in this book, because he is an absolute bastard to Richard. While Julian’s behaviour may – at an outside push – have been acceptable in the 50s, it’s completely insane now. I have decided, therefore, to run through a number of nasty things Julian says to Richard. All quotes come from the 1968 edition, 32nd impression, 1989 (if you care).
“Richard would keep trying to ride three abreast, and Julian had to warn him that cyclists were not allowed to do that. ‘I don’t care!’ sang Richard, who seemed in very high spirits. ‘Who is there to stop us, anyway?’
‘I shall stop you,’ said Julian, and Richard ceased grinning at once.”
This little extract comes from P.45, early in Chapter 5, before Richard reveals his connections to the criminal underworld. It’s quite mild, compared with Julian’s later outbursts of bile, but it does show him up to be a right killjoy, and a self-righteous one at that. Still, it could be worse. Let’s move on, and you’ll see.
“‘A deceitful and ridiculous plan.’”
Again, a pretty mild rebuke, occurring on P.64 when Richard reveals how he has tricked the Five into letting him come along with them. Still, it sets the scene for later spleen-ventings, by easing the reader gently into a mindset that considers it acceptable, and indeed applaudable, to talk to people nastily.
In fact, P.64 is pretty much where the high drama of the book begins (after a side-splittingly hilarious interlude where Julian and George try to buy some food from an irrationally unpleasant farmer), in which Richard explains his problem with Rooky. However, he also admits – rather foolishly, given Julian’s sanctimonious holier-than-thou attitude – that he’s told a couple of porkies along the way. Julian reacts thusly:
“Julian was disgusted.
‘I’m ashamed of you,’ he said. ‘Telling us lies like that!’”
Oh, Julian. Did you have any friends? If I’d gone round like that at school, I’d have been even more hated than I was – which would have been impressive. Yet Enid Blyton is actively encouraging children to tell each other off self-righteously when they tell a little fib.
Julian takes Richard back to the camp, where they encounter Anne on P.69-70:
“‘Who’s that?’ said Anne, suddenly seeing Richard in the shadows.
‘Only Richard. He’s behaved badly,’ said Julian, grimly. ‘It’s all because of him and his idiotic behaviour that this has happened.’”
Patronising bastard. If I were Richard, I’d have had enough by now. For those unfamiliar with the magnum opus that is Five Get Into Trouble, Richard is the son of Mr Thurlow Kent, one of the richest men in the country. The Five may be upper class, but Richard’s practically divinity compared to them. And Richard’s letting this scum from a much lower social stratum talk to him like this? For added realism, Enid Blyton would have given Richard a cricket bat at this stage, and let him use it to great effect on Julian. I for one would be cheering him on.
When discussing what to do about Dick’s kidnapping, the Five make the decision to track him down, which they do by piecing together a few clues that the kidnapping ruffians have been foolish enough to let slip. Making up their minds to go to a house called Owl’s Dene, where they believe they will find Dick, they have this light-hearted interlude on P.71:
“A voice came out of the shadows nearby. ‘What about me? Will you take me home first? I don’t want to run into Rooky again.’
‘I’m certainly not going to waste time taking you home,’ said Julian, coldly. ‘If it hadn’t been for you and your tomfoolery we wouldn’t have run into this trouble.’”
Julian then adds:
”‘You’re old enough to look after yourself. I’m fed up with you.’”
This is a kid who’s going to grow up into some kind of affectionless sociopath. There’s no character in any of Enid Blyton’s books who’s quite as unpleasant as Julian is being here, I’m sure. He’s hammering in the point again and again that he hates Richard’s sorry ass. The moment Julian decides Richard is to blame, the poor kid hasn’t a chance. Unless he gets that cricket bat. Anyway, on the very next page, Julian concludes:
‘What Richard wants is a jolly good hiding. He’s untruthful and deceitful and an absolute baby!’
‘Give me another chance,’ almost wept poor Richard, who had never in his life been spoken to like this before. He tried to hate Julian for saying such things to him – but oddly enough he couldn’t. He only respected and admired him all the more.
Yup, a jolly good hiding would do the trick. Julian has an unusual idea of what warrants corporal punishment, I have to admit – I recall in Five On A Treasure Island, Julian picks up a wooden box that belongs to him and says to himself, “I bet I’ll get an awful spanking if I get caught,” in what I always imagine to be a tone of voice that implies he’s rather looking forward to it – and I suppose in his peculiarly skewed worldview, telling a few fibs so you can come on a cycling tour would probably not just incur a damn good thrashing, but there’d probably be some branding with red hot irons or castration involved as well.
It’s also interesting to note that Julian’s opinion is shared by Rooky, who is among the most unpleasant and sadistic baddies I can imagine Enid Blyton coming up with. I mean, obviously, he’s no Ian Huntley, but by Blyton’s standards, he’s a well hard bastard. Anyway, he accuses Richard of being a “Miserable little coward – you never did have any spunk – you just ran round telling tales and misbehaving yourself whenever you could.” I’m not going to be immature enough to discuss the use of the word “spunk”, though I am going to point it out, just in case you missed it. And then George and Julian actually agree with Rooky! These children are vicious, make no mistake. So basically, Blyton spends quite a lot of time building up Rooky to be the nastiest criminal in the world, and then has him agree with Julian on a central plot point. In an ordinary book, I wouldn’t have a problem with this – shades of grey is more interesting than black and white – but in Blyton’s world, it’s rather jarring. Julian has never before, nor will ever again, agree with a nasty criminal. What to make of it, I don’t know.
Let’s be honest, in the second half of the book, Julian lays off Richard a bit. This is largely due to the fact that Richard goes off in the car boot and fetches the police, so he’s nowhere near Julian. However, at the end, when the Five meet Richard’s father, Mr Thurlow Kent, he says, ‘I was very angry with Richard when I heard what he had done ... I’m ashamed of him.’
Julian is good enough to respond to this shared confidence with the pompous arrogant statement that, ‘Yes, Richard made a fool of himself ... and landed us in trouble. He wants taking in hand, sir.’
The book does not reveal whether Mr Thurlow Kent takes on board this piece of sage parenting advice from such an infuriating little tosspot, instead choosing to end on this scene. My guess is that Mr Thurlow Kent either recoiled in revulsion from the smug self-satisfied git, or merely knocked him into the middle of next week. I’d have done both.