I wondered how these children’s books had survived through her school, college and university years, but stopped short of asking her. After all, I had some of my own ‘collectibles’ with me, and they included Blyton’s Book of Fairies and Book of Brownies.

Enid Blyton, a children’s writer of the Edwardian era, left for her eternal abode before many of us were even born. Yet her books have outlived her.

In fact, both her books and she are enjoying a revival 40 years after her death thanks to a BBC drama about her life titled Enid — a simple name for someone who has been part of just about everybody’s formative years.

Back in my school days, Enid Blyton books were not that affordable, and unfortunately, the school library did not have such a great collection either. Nonetheless, I had read all of them at least twice, even though some of the donated books were in tatters, with pages torn or missing.

My bookworm friends and I had an exchange club for Enid Blytons so that we had access to as many as was possible. The moment I came home from school, I propped myself on the lounge sofa, lost in a make-believe world where dolls, chairs and trees talked, goblins, fairies and pixies roamed the enchanted forests, and giants and witches chanted mantras to cast or undo spells.Much to the disdain of my mother, I usually forgot to wash my hands or eat anything before laying hands on the book, so eventually she made a rule that meant no reading before lunch. The Wishing Chair, SleepyLand and PixieDale around whom Blyton weaved so mesmerising a world was a truly amazing one, say what the purists might. She made all sorts of feats, otherwise impossible, seem quite real and achievable to those she wrote for, namely children. Ask anyone who has read (and loved) her, and they will tell you that they still stop to have a closer look if they spot an Enid Blyton at a bookshop — no matter how grown up they are.

So when I heard that BBC was running a series of dramas this month, featuring famous British women, and that the biopic included Enid Blyton, I got excited. I wanted to see how the writer, who was as much a part of my childhood as were my frilly pink frocks and wooden dollhouse, had reached where she was. What followed was a revelation of sorts for me because I had never bothered to read up on the author.

With such a grand fan-following of Blyton all around me, I would never have thought that Blyton was a controversial figure who had been written off by BBC — and even banned for 30 years before her stories for children were granted permission to be aired. This, because her stories ‘lacked literary value’. She was deemed politically incorrect and it was almost fashionable to be anti-Enid Blyton in literary circles back then.

Even after her death, objections regarding the racial and sexist ideas and references in her books continued until finally, vigorous editing of her books was carried out to set things right. I can hardly imagine the Toytown books being censored, but yes, that is what 
was done.

Notwithstanding her critics, Blyton wrote as many as 5,000 short stories and 150 full-length novels in her lifetime. About 500 million copies of her books have been sold worldwide in 90 languages. And what a variety of thoughts, a myriad of them, she introduced in the books she wrote.

There was the Noddy series that many mothers still read out to their three-year-olds, while they make excited queries about the colourful illustrations. She had endless short stories about mystical places with names like Toadstool Town and the Faraway Tree.

And for the older children, she wrote the Famous Five and Secret Seven series where school-age detectives took on the task of solving mysteries. She also created the Mallory Towers and St Clare series about girls’ adventures in the dormitories — series we fell in love with as adolescents.

I wish critics had left literary merits out of this one because it really never matters to children. They are hardly looking for the pleasure of reading perfect language, or judging a book by first checking the racial, cultural and religious undertones that it might 
be purveying.

All they want is a good story—and an imaginary world where things that are otherwise impossible are made real. And where the most important question to them — what happens next — is answered to their heart’s content. Not that Blyton’s books did not offer a didactic message, a ‘moral of the story’ kind of thing. I think an oft-repeated one was that of reward and punishment, where good deeds and behaviour were hailed and bad behaviour f
rowned upon.

And proof that she has retained her popularity is obvious in the Costa Book Award poll held last year, where Blyton was named Britain’s best-loved writer. She beat the giants like Shakespeare and favourites like Jane Austen to take the top spot. All critics of Enid Blyton, take that and make what you want of it!

Rabia Alavi is a Dubai-based writer. For feedback, write to opinion@khaleejtimes.com