More New Roads In 'Secret Water' 'Town'

Some new roads leading off 'Arthur Ransome Way' have now been named, as well as 'Nancy Blackett Avenue' there is 'Swallows Way' and 'Secret Waters'.

Reconsidering Lovelock

When Julian Lovelock's Swallows, Amazons and Coots was first published (2016) I was pleased to see a new academic analysis of Ransome's canon to join Peter Hunt's Approaching Arthur Ransome and the various PhD thesis on his novels such as Hazel Sheeky Bird's Camping and Tramping, Swallows and Amazons: Interwar Children’s Fiction and the Search for England amongst others. On reading Lovelock's work this anticipation of pleasure became something of a disappointment as can be seen in my review on Amazon UK and the extended version of it that is available on the All Things Ransome Website (Lovelock Review.)

Though I admit there was much of the analysis in Lovelock's book I disagreed with, there were some aspects I did not. In an attempt, in the academic manner, to give a more considered view I have read the book again, and this time as I did so I made extensive notes, both in support and disagreement of his views to clarify my thoughts.

This paper is a further discussion of Lovelock’s book and my views on the some of the points he raises. It is not exhaustive, I found the more I read (including comparing some of his views with those of others) I realised I would probably end up with enough material for a volume of my own.

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There is one particular recurring aspect of Julian Lovelock’s analysis of the Swallows and Amazons series of novels by Arthur Ransome that I found very difficult to understand and come to terms with, this was his insistence that each of the novels has quite extensive comic elements, some he claims even having 'visual comedy', though how this is possible in a written work I find, as a concept, difficult to grasp.

As a regular reader of the Ransome canon for around fifty-five years, both for pleasure and latterly in serious consideration, during that time, even as a child, I have yet to encounter anything I would describe as 'comedy'. Yes, the occasional humorous remark or incident that brings a slight smile to mind but nothing to evoke a 'laugh out loud' reaction as Lovelock says it does for him (p. 193.) Peter Hunt in his book Approaching Arthur Ransome agrees with the analysis of Fred Inglis in his work The Promise of Happiness – 'Ransome takes life seriously, unselfconsciously so...' (quoted in Hunt p. 86), and in Hunt’s own discussion of William, the pug, in Coot Club he states 'This is about the only occasion in the whole canon where Ransome indulges in his sense of whimsy...' (Hunt p. 127.)

Throughout the chapters in Lovelock's book there are fifty or so references to what he considers the comic or humorous aspects to Ransome's novels, many of those cited are, in my view, a misrepresentation of what Ransome is writing about and so trying to convey to his readers.

There is always a difficulty in discussing humour of any kind, with it being one of those subjects that are beyond objectivity. It is well known that what appeals to one person’s sense of humour can do nothing for another's. In my own case this applies to slapstick comedy and any humour that has the intention to belittle or underhandedly insult someone, or exploits a weakness in them - these fail as humour for me on all counts. This does not mean, of course, I don't find things funny, far from it. I was fortunate, in my view, to have grown up in the tail end of the era of The Goon Show and Tony Hancock on the radio, then on through the years of Monty Python and their ilk on television.

I am well aware that many would be mystified by this, just as I am in why others find the likes of Laurel and Hardy or Charlie Chaplin in any way amusing.  Additionally, I find some modern examples of humour funny that I realise are something of a mystery to many people much younger than myself.

Even allowing for the notion that people have different ideas as to what constitutes 'comic', ‘humorous’ or 'funny' I feel that Lovelock's analysis in this aspect of Ransome’s work is misplaced; his characters are all children growing up and trying to deal with the world around them, their difficulties maybe minor compared to those many of us have had to contend with as children and adults, but they still have to be dealt with.

Some adults have such lives as this, whilst others seem to be free of such things. For example, I had a great aunt on my mother's side of the family who went through life with comparative ease. In her old age she once said to my mother that she would quite happily live her life over again without any changes. Whereas my mother, who was middle-aged when this conversation took place, thus far had a life that was tinged with tragedy – death of her only sibling in war-time, death of her first born child when he was only ten years old in a road accident and then widowed in her early forties. My great aunt clearly could not comprehend why my mother, through these circumstances, had a different view from herself.

It has never struck me in all my readings of the canon there was a possibility Ransome wrote with the intention of being humorous, and when I raised the topic on TarBoard (the long established Ransome Online forum) some of the comments in response seemed to suggest I was not alone in this view. For me, in his novels, Ransome actually wanted to show that there was a great deal of seriousness in the lives of children, as there had been in his own childhood. Lovelock points out in his introduction ‘His [Ransome’s] childhood was not a happy one, … at the age of nine, Ransome was enrolled at a boarding preparatory school, … it was a disaster, and young Arthur was bullied and lonely.’ (p. 3.) There is another, and to me unrealistic, view of childhood as being a period of one's life free of troubles of whatever kind that has been perpetuated from the mid-twentieth century with the comment that has become something of a cliché - ‘School days are the happiest days of your life’. Thankfully, there is more recognition that this is not the case for a significant number of children whom long to escape to the world of adulthood, they may not be much happier in doing so but at least they have been able to leave their childhood behind. As Hunt comments in his discussion of the character's emotional lives '...one might suspect, Ransome was a shrewd child psychologist.' (Hunt p. 85.)

As a child reader of Ransome, for me, amongst his books attractions were the lack of detailed descriptions of time spent at school, no negative heavy-handed interferences by adults, no 'teasing', no harassment and related emotional difficulties that many children have to suffer, including failing to be taken seriously by adults and being belittled by other children. This is made clear in Great Northern? by Roger’s reaction to being mocked by the young McGinty. As Lovelock points out ‘…he leaves the mocking message ‘THE SLEEPING BEAUTY’ that so angers Roger.’ (p.204.)

Ransome's ability to identify with children and express feelings they may be having rather than writing directly for them, is one of a number of aspects that makes him stand out as an author of books that may include children amongst their readers. This aspect of Ransome's style has clear connections, explored by Lovelock and others, with his own childhood and the loss of his father. Despite being a child, in the broadest sense, he learnt from an early age that life is a serious business and has to be dealt with, and occasionally it just had to be endured.

Even whilst being unaware of Ransome’s background as a young reader I immersed myself in his books, and was richly rewarded with an alternative childhood that fulfilled some of my emotional needs at the time for around a year or so. It also gave me a broad knowledge of many subjects that still serves me well today, Ransome’s ability to describe things and explain how they work has influenced many of his readers, and some of those who are now well known individuals acknowledge this role he played in their own childhoods.

A further attraction of Ransome's books is that the adventures the children have are (with the obvious exceptions of those in Peter Duck, Missee Lee and possibly Great Northern?) all rooted in the realms of possibility. Yet in his introduction Lovelock refers to the characters exploring a 'dressing up box' (p. 13) and being involved in 'the make-believe of games.' (p. 22.) On reading this I was reminded of Wittgenstein’s discussion on defining ‘games’ ‘How should we explain to someone what a game is?’ (Philosophical Investigations p.33) and he then goes on at some length of the difficulties in doing so.

For me, the characters do not posses a 'dressing up box' and what happens in the books are not 'games', they are not pre-planned or engineered by the children themselves or the adults that assist them in doing so just for enjoyment as games are usually perceived. They make plans of how to spend their time and sometimes those plans are thwarted by circumstances (on the few occasions they are hindered by adults it is not with malicious intent, as an example Great Aunt Maria in Swallowdale and The Picts and The Martyrs acts out of what she believes to be the 'right' thing to do in looking after her nieces, albeit quite forcefully.) Lovelock views this from a different perspective, he describes each of the books beginning with a disappointment which then is overcome, he sees this as '...one of the gateways through which the children enter an imaginary world where they leave the everyday world behind and, to them, their games become real.' (p. 184.) My reasoning here is, that if you believe they move to an 'imaginary world' then we have to assume they are still involved in 'games'. In a complete contrast to Lovelock Hunt describes what they do (their adventures)  '… [As] 'real'; they live in a recognizable world with recognizable laws and values.' (Hunt p. 14.)

Throughout his book Lovelock seems, as many of us long-standing readers are, occasionally somewhat confused and troubled by the nature of Nancy as a character. I have explored some aspects of Nancy’s character myself in a previous paper, and concluded that as she has no basis in reality, being a pure invention on Ransome’s part, this makes her different from all the others. It also means that sometimes Ransome even contradicts himself in how she is portrayed. Early on Lovelock states ‘Captain Nancy is a tomboy…’ (p. 32) and that and that her behaviour can become marked by ‘…over-familiarity and rudeness…’ (p. 32). The notion of Nancy as merely a ‘tomboy’ I have also discussed before and I feel that this description is usually nothing more than an easy ‘get out’ for those that have not read the books in any depth and tend to lump her in with characters of lesser children’s literature, such as that of Enid Blyton, where a 'strong' female has to be explained in some way as they go against what is socially acceptable at the time the author is writing. Obviously, Lovelock does not fall in to this category so it is somewhat surprising he uses this term against type.

Nancy is a very complex character, as Lovelock observes ‘…Nancy is frequently more emotionally aware and more farsighted than her companions.’ (p. 48.) In Winter Holiday it is she that is immediately accepting of the Ds joining the polar expedition, whereas somewhat surprisingly, the Swallows have their doubts  – ‘…Dorothea overhears the always generous Nancy arguing for their inclusion.’ (p.74, my emphasis).

As for Nancy being rude, certainly she is indeed often direct and outspoken but nearly always because she knows in her own mind that she is right. She will not be deterred from making her point or standing her ground when dealing with adults, in particular, those who tend to dismiss children in such situations without listening to or considering their point of view. To accuse a child of rudeness when they show an adult it is they who have been in the wrong, is a far too easy reaction of some adults both now and more so at the time Ransome was writing. As Lovelock puts it '...Nancy often proves herself to be the most considerate and empathetic of the older children.' (p. 109.)

A further aspect of Nancy that makes her such a complex character is that she is the eldest of the children, just slightly older than John as far a we can ascertain. By the time of their adventure recounted in Great Northern? takes place she would be sixteen years old, about to move from childhood to adulthood, a move that may of course have already occurred, and a very significant change for any young woman. As Lovelock observes of the previous novel 'Nancy, now aged fifteen, hovers uncomfortably between childhood and adulthood...' (p. 186.) Of course, age is no indicator of maturity or depth of knowledge (my great aunt that I referred to earlier lived in to her seventies but still behaved as if a rather naïve, somewhat ignorant teenage girl.)

In his analysis of The Picts and the Martyrs Lovelock makes two very salient points about Nancy – ‘Throughout the Swallows and Amazons series we have seen glimpses of Nancy’s sensitivity.’ (p. 194) and ‘Was the Great Aunt also an overbearing pirate in her youth who has been left unloved and embittered? Is this what will happen to Nancy in her turn?’ (p. 196). I would argue we have seen more than just 'glimpses' and I am reasonably confident through my own readings in stating that Nancy will not end up ‘unloved’, certainly she will always be loved by her fellows (if we can allow ourselves to extrapolate from their characters we are provided with by Ransome.) Had Ransome been able to let his characters grow older in to the early years of adulthood, the life of Nancy would have been the most interesting and given him the greatest scope as a novelist, again being a creation entirely of his imagination.

Another skill that Ransome has as a writer also leads many to make interpretations of his work, to me, often erroneously. In this manner Lovelock attempts to analyse the books to show how they reflect colonialism, Empire and the ‘loss’ of the way of life that existed in England (and again I will use this deliberately despite three of the books being set elsewhere) at the time he was writing about (the early nineteen-thirties.) In Swallows and Amazons and Swallowdale the children refer to themselves as ‘explorers’ and in all the books, other than the meta-fictions, describe the local people they encounter as ‘natives’. Even Nancy and Peggy take on this usage to talk of people they have grown up with!

In Swallows and Amazons the Swallows do regard the island on their arrival as being unexplored and so available to be, in a sense, ‘taken’ (in more recent readings I have concluded that prior to Commander Walker giving his permission for the expedition, Mrs Walker had already made arrangements for them to go camping there and probably had contact with Mrs Blackett, as the impression is given in later books that her family ‘own’ the island.) The Swallow children are all familiar with the plots of Defoe's Robinson Crusoe and Stevenson's Treasure Island (Titty particularly so), and perceive the island in the lake in the same way as Stevenson and Defoe did their islands. For the Swallows, perhaps naively, the island is an 'undiscovered country' (though clearly not in the sense Hamlet uses the phrase in Act III scene I of Hamlet.) It is a place to be explored, mapped and named because for them it has not been done before. As far as they are aware nobody lives there or knows anything about it, and when they encounter the Amazons it then becomes very clear to them they are not the first. Though this is something of a disappointment it does not deter them from mapping and so naming its geographical features, even negotiating with the Amazons over such matters, and continuing to make it their temporary home. When the Swallows arrive, not that it was ever their intention, there are no resources to be plundered, no native peoples to rule over or oppress, the usual activities of colonisation

The two main geographical districts of England that Ransome set his novels, the Lake District and the Norfolk and Suffolk Broads, both have at various times suffered with an over-popularity by tourists that has led to physical damage to the landscape and disruption of the way of life of those that are members of families who have lived and worked there for generations. The Broads in particular, had in the 1930s (the time Ransome was writing about) seen the introduction of motor cruisers for holiday hire, which changed the whole nature of the area from the days when it was purely populated with sailing vessels. It is this change that Ransome was not happy about, and he drew attention to it through Coot Club and The Big Six, a problem that would continue in to the 1960s and 1970s. This was not some view through rose-tinted spectacles hankering for a probably non-existent golden age; Ransome was concerned about the damage to the area in many senses but for the natural world in particular. Both books alerted people to this danger, as Lovelock points out in his analysis of the discussion in The Big Six between Tom, the Death and Glories and the eel man Harry Bangate (p. 155-6), Ransome was not reflecting on the loss of Empire etc. despite the description of the photographs and news cuttings in Bangate’s vessel, but the preservation of the countryside that was clearly under threat from the increase of motorised river traffic used by visitors.

When it comes to politics and the implied references in the novels, as Lovelock quotes Paul Foot’s discussion of Ransome and to politics in the books ‘The subject simply doesn’t arise.’ (p. 11) yet despite this for Lovelock it does seem to be there in the background '...the resolutely middle-class writer of what can seem to resolutely middle-class and imperialist tales.' (p. 10.) Ransome’s political views are difficult to perceive, in his journalist days he worked for a left-of-centre newspaper (The Manchester Guardian) and obviously took a great interest in the Russian Revolution which would enable us to place him roughly in a position on the political spectrum if we made some broad assumptions. Yet on his return to the UK with Evgenia it seems from his writings, both public and his private letters, that politics were a thing of the past in his life. This makes it very difficult to relate what happens in the novels to his political views, and perhaps a dangerous path to take. As Lovelock explains referring to a note in Ransome’s MI5 file that states ‘He has, I think, no special political views.’ (p. 7.)

Finally, Lovelock devotes a great deal of his analysis to the role of Dick and Dorothea in the books, and of Dorothea in particular. Both characters have their basis in aspects of the person Ransome had strived to become - the knowledgeable, practical expert and the novelist. It is interesting, to me at least, that Lovelock describes the Ds as ‘…not children to whom one immediately warms.’ (p. 71.) Hunt's view is very different 'Dorothea, is one of Ransome's masterstrokes. She … lives a happily conscious double life, paraphrasing the reality around her into the worst of clichés of 'ordinary' children's books... Together the D's provide a refreshing and not always flattering gloss on the Swallows and Amazons...' (Hunt p. 72.)  As a child, when I first read Winter Holiday, I identified with them both straight away and the book still remains my favourite of the novels. Aspects of the two of them were everything I was in some ways, outsiders, having a need to be included, but as I mentioned before, they only started out in that position until Nancy encouraged their acceptance in to the collective adventures overruling the misgivings of the others.

Dorothea sees almost everything through novelist’s eyes and we are told of her written observations, her own writing is not of great quality (from the snippets we are given) as she has yet to develop as a writer, but she has a vivid imagination that is triggered by the smallest events. Ransome does on occasions use her works to show the shortcomings of other writers, but mainly he uses her as a device to explain to us the reader what he is seeing as the invisible observer.

One of the biggest surprises with regard to Dorothea is her role in The Big Six. When all seems lost as the local members of the Coot Club are under suspicion from nearly all the adult characters for criminal activity, it is she who believes in their innocence and organises them all to work to prove it - '...the chief interest in the novel lies in the way they encounter the injustices and prejudices of adults rather than in their individual characters.' (p. 151.) Not only does Dorothea organise the others she has to deal with some opposition from within, as Lovelock puts it '… [she] takes charge, lightly shouldering Tom into the background … [T]he Death and Glories may be sceptical, and sometimes resentful, but they are swept along by her newfound confidence.' (p. 160.) I don't see it as a 'newfound' confidence on Dorothea's part, it is just that she has at last an opportunity to show her strengths; as Hunt views it '… the sole girl in the cast masterminds the operation …' (Hunt p. 133.) In Winter Holiday and Coot Club she is the newcomer and to a degree both in awe of those she meets and reluctant to put her abilities in to action.

There is an irony in that Ransome, who is often wrongly perceived by some as a 'masculine' writer telling stories of 'male' activities, should have two central characters over the twelve books that are female – Nancy and Dorothea. To add to this irony the two of them are the strongest of the children, in the broadest sense, and the most adult-like. Though Susan takes on the domestic tasks of mother and wife, it is always clear to the reader that this is just a role she has been assigned, or has regularly confirmed, by 'real' adults in the way they positively speak to her or of her.

Nancy is not only in 'command' as the senior part owner of the Amazon, but in that she controls the activities of all the books she appears in. Dorothea on the other hand may not always act like an adult but she views the events around her as if she was one, this is reflected in her writing. In her observations of the world around, she always takes what she sees as having the potential as source material for her novels.

We know from Ransome's autobiography, his collected letters and Brogan's biography that there were always strong women in his life. The most important ones of course being his mother and his, in their different ways, two wives, but not always in a positive way. He also had many female friends, many of whom he proposed to, again who had their own strengths, which influenced him.

Once again I find myself concluding that there is still much to be gleaned and written about Ransome’s canon, and that it is remarkable a series of twelve novels written over eighty years ago, ostensibly for children, still manages to generate so much interest and serious analysis. In comparison Malcolm Saville, a near contemporary of Ransome, wrote twenty-two novels in his Lone Pine series and many others as well. It is also clear there are still many areas of Ransome's works and achievement to be explored and for us enthusiasts to disagree over, but never in ways that will deflect any of us from our long held interest.

And When They Grew Up?

I’ve been a reader of the Arthur Ransome Swallows and Amazons series of books for fifty-five years now, regularly reading them over that time apart from a period in my thirties, but even during those years they were still on my bookshelf in a prominent position, a collection of the hardback editions including those belonging to my late brother from his own childhood.

When I began to read the books for myself as a child, I was, for a short period, immersed in them as if I was a participant; they gave me an alternative childhood. A childhood very different from the one I was experiencing then; dealing with the earlier death of my brother, medical issues and an unsettled time at primary school. The books described and gave me the childhood I really wanted.

In my late forties and early fifties I began to read the books again, now going beyond the stories in themselves and once again imagining what the characters were doing when not being observed by Ransome. One his skills as a writer, not for children as he always declaimed, but of books children would want to read, was to describe what was happening as if an invisible observer. Perhaps this was an ability he brought with him from his journalism days, he reported to us readers what the Walkers, Blacketts and Callums (and others) were up to.

Part of these imaginings led me in the Internet age to ‘fan fiction’ Websites, where enthusiastic readers create their own adventures for their favourite characters. What interested me most in these attempts were the ones where the adult lives of any of them are speculated upon, what were they like when they became grown-ups?

Given the original books are set in the nineteen-thirties with only the occasional reference to actual dates, my curiosity was initially aroused pondering what they may have all done during the Second World War. We know that John and Roger have ambitions to follower their father, Commander Walker, in to the navy, but what of the others?

This is where I have to admit that I eventually succumbed to the idea of ‘fan-fiction’, written only for my own entertainment as an exploration of the main characters from the information we have about them all from Ransome.

So here are my speculations of what happened to them all.

Commander Walker – we know he is already a serving officer in the Navy, tragically he dies in the early years of World War II when his ship is torpedoed.

Mary Walker – in her bereavement she becomes particularly close to Molly Blackett and Jim Turner, she is even more devoted to her children.

John Walker – joins the navy on leaving school and over the years rises through the ranks, during which he believes he is the most senior officer in the family since the death of his father. For a time at the end of their teenage years he feels that Nancy is the woman for him, until she gently re-buffs his overtures without a full explanation. It is only then he begins to realise that it is Peggy that he is really attracted to and loves, after the war they marry and have children.

Susan Walker – joins the Women’s Royal Navy Service (WRNS) at the beginning of the war, partly to ‘do’ something and as she can no longer stand having to be forever running around after the younger members of the family as if a second mother. She quickly rises through the ranks in various ‘desk jobs’ in London until by the end of the war she is in a superior and more influential role in the War than John has achieved at sea. Unfortunately for her, thanks to the restrictions of the Official Secrets Act, she is never able to reveal this to any of the others (apart from Dick Callum many years later.) She never marries or shows any romantic intentions.

Titty Walker – spends the entire war in London living the life of what is often negatively called a ‘good time girl’. Her contribution to the war effort is as an official dowser having learnt more about the skill, this involves her with searching for dead bodies after air raids. She gets by with the help of well-off casual friends and lovers, but mostly through Captain Flint, who still shows his gratitude to her for finding the manuscript of ‘Mixed Moss’. She continues to be a close friend to Dorothea. After the war she then dowses for a living, finding missing objects and water sources. In the 1960s through Dorothea she meets up again with Dick, they both fully realise the love they have for each other that is suggested at the end of Great Northern? and they subsequently marry.

Roger Walker – joins the Navy once he is old enough in the early years of the war. Whilst serving in the Far East he is captured and imprisoned by the Japanese. During this time he is regularly tortured because the Japanese discover, through the letters he receives, that he has a connection with Dick Callum. This treatment results in him being seriously mentally disturbed for the remainder of his life, and is cared for by his mother, then by Susan, with Titty’s help, after the death of their mother.

Bridget Walker – trains to be a teacher and mainly works abroad.

Molly Blackett – continues to live at Beckfoot and does all kinds of voluntary work on the ‘Home Front’ during the war, with her brother Jim Turner she consoles and supports Mary Walker in her grief. After the war she still maintains Beckfoot, welcoming any of the children who are to visit.

Nancy Blackett – Joins the WRNS and trains to be a driver as she is, disappointingly, unable to go to sea. In this role she serves on various bases, including some of those involved in the build up to D-Day. During this time, on one occasion, she serves along side Daisy of the Eels at one base. Unbeknown to all the others until after the war, the two of them have continued the close, intimate friendship begun after they met during the mapping of Secret Water. They remain a devoted couple until the death of Nancy many years later, the day following her funeral Daisy commits suicide by drowning in the lake at Beckfoot unable to face life without her.

Peggy Blackett – spends the war at Beckfoot helping her mother to run the house, doing WVS voluntary work in the local area. She reveals her love for John towards the end of their childhood adventures, once it is obvious that he and Nancy will never be romantically linked. After the war they marry and have two children.

Jim Turner (Captain Flint) – thanks to the money he earns from the publication of ‘Mixed Moss’ he is able to live a comfortable life. With Timothy Stedding (‘Squashy Hat’) he pursues various mining projects around the world. After the war he becomes close to Mary Walker and even proposes marriage, she turns him down knowing nobody could replace her late husband.

Dick Callum – gains a place at Oxford to study mathematics, whilst there, because of his exceptional skills in symbolic logic, he is secretly recruited to work on code breaking at Bletchley Park. Here he meets Alan Turing and then goes on to work with Tommy Flowers on the first electronic computers; this experience enables him to work for computer companies in the USA for many years after the war. Susan, through her position in the Navy, is aware of his war work, unlike the rest of them who never quite understand why he does not ever talk of the war years. On his return to the UK he meets up once more with Titty and their romance is re-ignited and they marry.

Dorothea Callum – during the war she works for the Ministry of Information writing leaflets for the general public and propaganda material. During this time she continues to write novels, after the war she eventually begins to get them published. In the nineteen-sixties she meets again Timothy Stedding through his friendship with Captain Flint, despite Timothy being married they have a passionate love affair for over twenty years that only ends with his death. Later in life she crosses paths with Tom Gudgedon, himself recently widowed from Bess Farland, and they begin a relationship. After her death her novels are reassessed by the literary establishment, and judged to be a significant contribution to twentieth century English Literature.

What Happened Next?

For some of the lifelong and devoted readers of the twelve Arthur Ransome novels that make up the Swallows and Amazons series, there has often been much speculation on what happens to the major characters and the paths their lives take after we leave them in what is considered to be their final appearance by all of them in the book Great Northern?.

Though this last novel in the series was written and published two years after the end of the Second World War it is set, as are all the others, in the mid to late 1930s. This aspect of Ransome’s work serves to highlight one of his skills as a writer, the real world in respect of what is happening nationally and internationally, as opposed to real life, only encroaches on the books, in terms of plot and character, when it is essential and so consequently the threatened war as it would have been in the novel’s timescale is not mentioned or even hinted at. One of the things that makes Great Northern? different from the other novels is the contrast it provides with the previous two books in the series We Didn’t Mean To Go To Sea and Secret Water. From examination of some aspects of this contrast we able to glean more detail on the development and maturing of the main characters, and this can assist us with our speculation about their respective futures.

With the immense amount of knowledge that the Internet now makes available to us, such speculation about the characters lives is now widespread - forums, blogs, fan fiction sites and the publishing of analytical scholarly papers all offer their views on the matter. For some Ransome devotees this activity has been going on prior to the emergence of the Internet, for example in an issue of Mixed Moss (the magazine of The Arthur Ransome Society) from 1994 there is an article considering the relationship between John and Nancy and it how it may develop beyond their lives as it is described in the books.

This process of hypothesizing about fictional characters has been criticised by some literary critics, but is robustly defended by Margaret and Michael Rustin in their study of children’s fiction (Narratives of Love and Loss, 1987), they comment ‘…authors have imagined situations and persons as if they were real.’ (p. 14, ibid, authors’ emphasis.) Their conclusion for taking such an approach is ‘…that our procedure is only an extension of ordinary readers’ response to works of fiction.’ (p. 14, ibid.) and conclude ‘We may in fact know more and not less about a fictional character than about most real people of our acquaintance.’ (p. 15, ibid.)

One of my main motivations for considering this aspect of Ransome’s books has its origins in similar speculation over such matters, this activity highlights another of his skills as a writer whereby he created characters whose lives, in the way they are described, give you cause to think about them in some depth after you have finished reading the novels.

It is clear in the books that amongst the main characters some particularly strong friendships emerge: John and Nancy, Susan and Peggy, Titty and Dorothea being the most obvious. These friendships are not of course limited to or at the exclusion of others, but they are the main relationships that emerge, that is until the novels Secret Water and Great Northern?. In the former we see Nancy, along with the others, meeting and making a particular connection with Daisy of the Eels, whilst in the latter the intensity and depth of the friendship between Titty and Dick is revealed in the book’s closing pages. As Peter Hunt observes in his discussion of the eleventh book in the series The Picts and the Martyrs by the end of the book ‘…all the characters have grown up to the point at which a deeper formulation of relationships would be inevitable.’ (p. 82, Approaching Arthur Ransome, 1992.)

Of those two books that were published before Great Northern? one of them in its plot and the characters involved stands out from the others in the series, We Didn’t Mean To Go To Sea only involves the Swallows and, with the exception their mother and Bridget, nobody else from any of the other books. The novel shows all the Swallows changing or maturing in their own way. These changes in them all arise from them being placed, in a sense, in to a ‘real’ dangerous scenario that has to be dealt with without the involvement of any adults. The four children are forced to confront events and situations where their decisions and reactions will have a serious effect on themselves and their siblings, particularly for John and Susan. It is these aspects of the book that makes it one of the most popular, and even the best, of the series for many readers.

A lot of the speculation about all the major child characters arises in Online ‘fan fiction’ sites and amongst the plethora of Ransome based work posted there seems to be two particular ideas that regularly occur, and those notions are all commented upon in other Websites as well. The first of those that John and Nancy will eventually in adulthood marry is the most prevalent. The second is that at least one of the female characters will emerge to declare themselves in maturity as a lesbian, and the most common suggestion for this notion is that it will be Nancy (there is an irony here that in the 19^th and 20^th century this name became a derogatory slang description of male homosexuals, though it has a much more simple origin as an affectionate ‘shortening’ of the name Ann.)

Though Ransome allows his characters to mature to a degree, given the relatively short timescale of the series of novels, he is often accused, critically, of ignoring matters of the sexuality of, or romance between, the older characters as they enter what we would now refer to as their teenage years. In Ransome’s defence it has to be said that he does not actually ignore these subjects, he was writing at a time when to allow such matters to be included in books aimed at children would be viewed suspiciously or even with total abhorrence. Of course, this does not mean such behaviour did not exist between children of such ages as the older characters who, by the end of the series, would have been fifteen or sixteen years old.

There has been in relatively recent years much discussion amongst Ransome devotees and experts over the status of Great Northern? in his canon. It is recognised and accepted by all Ransome readers that Peter Duck and Missee Lee are metafictions – stories ‘invented’ by the characters in the other books. This activity is referred to directly in Swallowdale in the case of Peter Duck, coming about when the Swallows and Amazons got together with Captain Flint on a wherry on the Norfolk Broads in the previous winter (the origin of Missee Lee is not revealed in any of the other books.) Some argue that Great Northern? too is a metafiction, primarily as it relies heavily for its plot on an idea, outlined in great detail, that was given to Ransome by his friend Myles North (whom the novel is dedicated to), and that the timescale of the book does not fit in with the usual pattern of the events taking place during school holidays as in the other more straightforward novels of the series.

Despite these differences and the possibility that Great Northern? is a metafiction, the parts of the book that reveal and detail aspects of the main characters and their friendships serves to highlight the development and maturing of all of them by Ransome in contrast to the books that precede it. Significantly, even though the fragment of another novel, which was edited for publication by his biographer Hugh Brogan and entitled by him The Coots in the North, exists it does seem as if Great Northern? was, albeit originally unintended, a farewell to us readers by the Swallows, Amazons and Ds.

Ransome, of course, was in some ways restricted in what he could write of the maturing of his characters by the period in which he was writing. He was, as he made clear during his lifetime both publicly and privately, not a children’s writer and that he did not write for children and expounded on this in some depth in a letter to Helen Ferris in March 1938 (p. 209, The Best of Childhood, 2004.) He was, of course, well aware that his audience was children and the books would have been bought, in the main, by parents and relations who in so doing would have expected them to conform to the widely accepted moral and social standings of the day. If we compare his novels to those for children by Malcolm Saville, in general terms, the latter was able to allow his characters to develop in to older teenagers and young adults as he continued writing volumes of the Lone Pine series in to the 1970s. These years followed and continued a lengthy period in the UK when there was a radical change in culture and society from that of the period that Ransome was writing in.

In his defence, Ransome clearly does not ignore the maturing of his characters in other less contentious matters, that of Roger being an obvious one and also the change of Bridget from a baby in Swallows and Amazons to being old enough to leave her mother and take part in Secret Water, though not considered ready to be fully involved in the preceding book We Didn't Mean To Go To Sea.

It has always been my contention, as an adult reader of Ransome, that his books are a ‘snapshot’ of England, in particular, at that time in which they were set. He wrote of what he saw around him then intertwined aspects of his childhood, and how he would have liked his childhood to have been. Subsequently the novels reflect middle class life as observed by a member of that class, thus countering some who criticise him for his books being so. He is also criticised for in a similar way having a tendency to reinforce gender stereotypes, but again this is a reflection of the time he lived and is far less guilty of this charge than other writers of the period. In addition he is occasionally criticised for the language he uses, some of which is now quite rightly perceived to be unacceptable for various reasons. This argument is an important one, but needs to be considered at another time, perhaps a discussion considering various aspects Ransome’s language and literary style. Such comments relating to Ransome’s view of class and gender often seem to stem from those who have actually not read the books in any depth, and also rely on Ransome’s public image relating to the books that in many ways he deliberately kept quite limited to ensure his privacy during his lifetime.

There have also been attempts, though very obliquely, to question Ransome’s motives in writing such books, with an underlying implication that there is something ‘odd’ about a middle-aged man writing about children. But this misinterpretation comes across in a rather heavy-handed way, much as in the same way it has been attempted to portray him as a traitor while working in Russia as a journalist during the revolution of the early twentieth century (double agent he may have been but ‘traitor’ is still a very problematic conclusion.) More relevant to this discussion here is that Roland Chambers in his book on Ransome as a spy claims that Ransome was a '...ferocious opponent of ... the modern obsession with ... sex...' (p. 335, The Last Englishman, 2010) though his source for this observation is not cited. Yet, in the same book his description of Ransome's relationship with and subsequent marriage to Evgenia is that it was 'passionate' (p. 8, ibid), though it is not entirely clear in what sense Chambers uses the word.

One of Ransome’s earliest successful published works (ignoring his ghost writing of books on sport, physical education and nature) was about his time living in Bohemian London as a young man in the nineteen-hundreds (Bohemia in London, 1907.) Through this we know that he would have come in to contact with and been part of a sub-culture which embraced the concept of ‘free love’ and where the expression of sexuality was nothing to be secretive about, similarly the role of women, the second wave of feminism, was for them to be the equal of men and live their lives accordingly. It can be concluded that he may have incorporated as much as possible of these matters as he could in his writing though not specifically for, or aimed at, children. Of all his characters there is one that reflects these matters more than for any of the others, and it is also the one that we have no confirmed or reliable record of a real person that it can be concluded that they are based upon, and that is Nancy.

Ransome's inspiration for nearly all of his major characters were drawn from people he knew in his life, and the sources for most of these can be worked out from his autobiography, there are discussions of the possibilities in the official Hugh Brogan biography and from the various memoirs of those that met him and knew him. Despite this, Taqui Altounyan made the point ‘It is no more possible to sort out which of the characters were based on real people, than it is to pin down the various places in the books to actual points on the atlas.’ (‘Sevens – I think that is what this talk is about’ given to South West Region of TARS in 1994.)

Many of those that have studied the books in depth reach the conclusion that the characters Dick and Dorothea are based upon aspects of Ransome himself rather than any individuals that he knew, whereas the Swallows we know are all based upon the Altouyan children. But Nancy and Peggy have no such obvious origins.

There have been some claimants over the years as to being the inspiration for Nancy (and Peggy) by people, some seemingly based on the simple facts that they were young teenage girls who could sail and wore red knitted caps in the Lake District. Some in addition claim to have had some minimal interaction with Ransome. But, as yet, no serious, verifiable contenders have emerged. Like the lake and all the other geographical elements in the books set in the Lakes, Nancy seems to be an amalgam of the characteristics of a number of real women worked in to one person through Ransome’s imagination.

In terms of twentieth century children’s fiction Nancy is one of the most interesting characters created. For many such children’s ‘adventure’ books the tradition arose of any ‘strong’ female characters usually being presented with the characteristics of what has become known as ‘tom-boys’. This is on the basis that to be capable, decisive and a leader are male traits and so had to be represented as such even though they are attributed to girls. The one thing that makes Nancy stand out in the books, and in some ways apart from all the other girls, is that she is a very strong female character. Such female characters in other works are often dismissed as mere 'tomboys' and are in stark contrast to how Ransome portrays Nancy including her being physically strong. As Peter Hunt says of Nancy ‘…it is never suggested that she is emulating boys per se…’ (p. 71, ibid, author’s emphasis.)  In more traditional children's fiction it seems females, if domesticated and caring in the manner, for example, of Susan, were and perhaps still are more acceptable to parents and educators as they do not threaten the status quo as it is perceived to be by the majority.

There are some obvious examples in this style of writing whereby ‘strong’ girls are given a ‘male’ identity to fit in with their abilities, such as George in Enid Blyton’s Famous Five series and Peter in Malcolm Saville’s Lone Pine series. This aspect of these two female characters is reinforced by both of them having names that are ‘shortened’ to a male form, from Georgina and Petronella respectively. Ransome turns this convention around by giving his character Ruth a nickname of the ‘strong’ female name Nancy. So a traditional biblical derived name is replaced, she is given a relatively modern name with no biblical connections much more suited to her role in the novels.

Interestingly, two of the other main female characters, Titty and Dorothea, also show strengths that are not often seen in children's literature of the period whereas one female, Peggy, is almost stereotypical in her behaviour - her fear of thunderstorms and speaking openly when it would be better to stay silent being the main ones. Then with the character of Susan we are given a female who excels at everything domestic, an ideal sought by many men, even to the extent of her mother relying upon her in the care of her other children.

Not only is Nancy physically and emotionally strong, she almost dominates the plot of every book, even when she is quarantined in her sick bed in Winter Holiday. She also plays a background part in the books she does not directly appear, particularly in the Broads books when being referred to by those that know her to those that don't!

Those that speculate on a female character from the books being a lesbian in adult life use these aspects of how Nancy is portrayed to support their view. The main suggestion we have of Nancy's possible sexuality actually appears in the ninth of the twelve books, Secret Water, and it really is no more than a veiled hint, you have to make a close reading of Nancy and her behaviour in this and the other books with this reference in mind to begin to get a sense of her in this matter.  It also has to be remembered that by the time of Secret Water Nancy would be fourteen to fifteen years old, and thus she was fast approaching adulthood, if not reached, especially in female biological terms.

Of course, the origin of the Amazon’s name has to give us cause for consideration in this discussion, whereas the Swallows take their name from the boat they are allowed to use in the first novel there is no equivalent described in the books for Nancy and Peggy. Amazons - the female warriors from Greek mythology who shunned men in their society and only had annual or biannual sexual relations to continue the race, where male children were slaughtered to achieve this end. Was this tribal name chosen for Nancy and Peggy by Ransome deliberately, or did he just continue the connection with the idea of using the name of the great South American river? Interestingly, Taqui Altounyan mentions that in 1924 ‘We also had a native Armenian nurse called Perouse, an Amazon of a woman.’ (ibid, emphasis mine.)

There is another important aspect to consider in this discussion; the character of Nancy comes across to us in some passages of the books that she is a feminist. Not that the term is ever used, but it is clear that Nancy is just as capable as any of the males in whatever task is before them. Some devoted readers of the books may dismiss this labelling because the notion of 'feminism' is often perceived to be a product of the nineteen-sixties. Yet it has to be remembered that Mary Wollstonecraft published The Vindication of the Rights of Women at the end of the eighteenth century (1792) and the term 'feminism' is first recorded in print in the 1890s. It is in the more modern view of feminism (that of the 1930s and 1940s and later) that Nancy inhabits, rather than that of the 1960s or the view that Ransome probably observed during his young days in London. Nancy was not a woman fighting for the right to vote or to be able to play her part in the political life of the nation, she already regarded herself as a captain and so in charge of others, she wanted to show she was as capable as many men and more so than a great number! All through the books she has encounters with adults whereby with her plain speaking she either gets her way or puts them in their place, not letting them think they can deal with her easily as she is 'just a girl' and is rightly offended on the occasions when this happens.

It has to be acknowledged that some have observed Nancy sometimes comes across in the books as almost being devoid of emotions or any deep feelings. The major rebuttal to this idea is when she expresses her feelings most poignantly in Swallowdale over her dealings with the GA in relation to her mother, and her memories of what she has been told of her late father when they are all at the summit of Kanchenjunga.

So how does all this peripheral information draw some of us to the conclusion that when Nancy matures that she will be a lesbian?

To consider this argument and discuss it firstly there has to be acceptance that human beings gender and sexuality are in the main genetically part of us, and our upbringing and life experiences can both encourage or suppress them. Many of those, for example, who have been incorrectly gender assigned at birth or always ‘felt’ they were of the opposite gender (such as the travel writer Jan Morris, once James Morris) knew from an early age (in Morris’ case when he was three years old) what they should be. Similarly in matters of sexuality, many know before they are of a maturity to be sexually active where their proclivities lay. At the time of writing (Autumn 2016) in the UK and the USA there are moves to accommodate those with such doubts of their gender at a much earlier age, this is a far more complex argument beyond the scope of this discussion. My aim is to speculate on the possible sexuality of an older teenager and not an attempt to make them something they are not, but to consider what they may be within the confines of the information given to us in the texts, and how it effects our interpretation of the novels.

As noted, an easy response to such a difference in a young woman by some writers is to use the device, now something of a cliché, of a 'tomboy'. In more recent times the same notion is often achieved by describing such a character as a loner, an orphan, having divorced parents or some other negatively perceived social stigma.

In The Arthur Ransome Society magazine Mixed Moss (issue No.2 of Volume 3 1997) Sarah and Peter Hunt, acknowledged experts in the works of Ransome, contributed an article ‘Arthur Ransome and the Question of Gender’ discussing how the roles of the male and female characters fit the traditional stereotypes that usually occur in children's literature. Though they describe the main characters all tending to follow expected stereotypes, they conclude '... the one element of AR's success has been precisely that he balances the genders, the two sides human nature so finely, and in a manner very advanced for his time.' (p. 38.)

Obviously this is all circumstantial, yet is it not the sign of a great writer that they can produce characters and plots that lead you to think of them beyond the confines of the pages of the book? A voracious reader may consume many novels, but how many works give them cause to think beyond their pages? To want to re-read them is something of a triumph for an author (for me those I do re-read are members of a select group given how many books I have read in my lifetime.)

From my own interest it seems many readers have perceptions of ‘what happens outside the books and what happened next' for Ransome's characters. Most common is that John and Roger will join the navy, next John marrying Nancy seems to be regularly proposed as such outcomes are certainly hinted obliquely at in the books. In an article in a another edition of Mixed Moss (issue No. 1 of Volume 2 1994) Dave Sewart contributed a piece entitled ‘Sex on the Quarter Deck’, this examines the relationship between John and Nancy as the series of books progresses, and the possibility that they will be together in adulthood - ‘Time and again we catch them looking at each other, looking into the other’s thoughts…’ (p.35). Other speculations about the characters abound on fan fiction Websites and Internet forums discussing the works. It has to be said that Ransome is not alone in being so discussed but it does seem he is one of only a few from that period of children's literature, but this is more a reflection of both the quality of his writing and his observations of children's lives. His equals, in the sense of identification with by readers, in modern times seems to be the Harry Potter and Twilight series of books.

When still alive Ransome was able to either indulge in, mislead or ignore questions regarding his novels from his readers and others, now there are none to speak for him, his literary executors quite rightly guard his works in the matters of copyright infringement and misuse so leaving us readers to speculate on other matters.

Nancy seems to provoke such speculation partly because of her lack of a 'real' person to connect her with or identify her by. Her character beyond what Ransome gives us is something of a blank canvas; it is significant that the conclusion on the nature of her sexuality is a common one. Sewart concludes his piece with the following thought ‘Did AR omit such relationships, or are they so subtly entwined in the plot that we do not always spot them?’ (p. 37, ibid) which to me sums up neatly the position we find ourselves in regarding Nancy.

There is a feminist argument that this conclusion about her sexuality has come about because many men, and some women, see a strong (in all senses) woman as a threat, and by labelling her a lesbian diminishes her strength, or justifies the perceived threat. In the novels Nancy shows little interest in domestic matters, otherwise expected from all the females, she 'works' certainly but it is regarded as 'real' work (the equivalent of paid labour), not housework (unpaid labour.) This is clearly seen in Pigeon Post where physical labour is involved, Nancy does much of the mining and crushing with the pestle and mortar while Susan cooks meals for them all and cares for the younger ones, even though the two of them are of a similar age. Again, such rejection of unpaid domestic labour by a woman often leads to such conclusions and labelling. (A similar process is often, unfortunately, applied to men who are interested in fashion or interior design.)

The crucial marker to help us speculate on the nature of Nancy's sexuality from the books is her meeting with Daisy (of the Eels) in Secret Water. In the book the Swallows meet Don of the Eels first, and then until the arrival of the Amazons none of them have yet to meet Daisy (other than Bridget) and they do so when 'rescuing' Bridget from her captors (the Eels.) It is clear from the first exchange between Nancy and Daisy they recognise something in each other, a shared characteristic. Though Ransome's writing makes this clear he does not state at all what it is they recognise (there is a scene where the two go off together), and it would seem probable he had no idea himself, they were just like-minded, but as Sewart says ‘When two sixteen year olds wish to be alone together we do not need a blow by blow account to tell us that they are not playing games.’ (p. 37, ibid). In his longer discussion of Secret Water Sewart states 'Nancy arrived and (inevitably) discovered another purpose - plus Daisy, a kindred spirit the like of which she had never had before.' (p. 36, ibid, emphasis mine.)

Recent research by geneticists has indicated that friendships, though seemingly random, can be choices made on genetic similarities. In analysis of people and their close friend's DNA it shows they tend to be as closely related as if fourth cousins (Nicholas A. Christakis and James H. Fowler, Yale University, 2014.) So such choices of friends and future partners seems to have an element of recognition of the self in others.

Further on in Secret Water Nancy and Daisy have 'secret' discussions (a further interpretation of the book's title), though we know this meeting is with regard to planning the 'human sacrifice' celebration between the Swallows, Amazons and Eels later in the plot, that it is made clear that these two have such an immediate rapport is significant. When Ransome splits the narrative in his books in this way, as he often does, we are usually given alternate chapters to follow both sides, but of the talks between Nancy and Daisy we are told nothing. But we are told ‘…’There was a lot to talk about.’ Both of them were smiling. It seemed to John almost as if they had been glad of the delay.’ (p. 249, Secret Water, Puffin 1969.)

Prior to Nancy and Daisy going off without any of the others all of them are invited to Daisy's parent's yacht for afternoon tea, Daisy prepares them all for this, but this is clearly aimed at Nancy in particular. Nancy understands immediately and surprises the others during the visit by her behaviour in particular chatting to Daisy’s parents about gardening. (p. 235, ibid.) The reason for this care during the visit is recounted in the book as so that none of them should give any clue to Daisy’s parents of her 'other' self (in the plot this is referred to her as being one of the Eels, but of course can be interpreted to include other matters such as her sexuality.) That John and Susan, and the others, go along with this deception is not in itself surprising, but it seems Nancy understands immediately the importance of this separation of life in to what is shown and what is not shown to parents and she comments that Daisy even ‘looks’ different (p. 234, ibid.) This deception of Daisy’s parents is not because what they do is in any way ‘wrong’ but it is something they want to keep outside the parent's sphere of influence. It is also behaviour they have no wish to share with them, but in return they are happy to behave in a way that will please the adults (Don has previously talked of doing the same with his own mother (p. 100, ibid)), though Ransome hints during the episode with Daisy’s parents that they are not entirely convinced by their daughter’s efforts!

Though writing in the late 1930s and in to the 1940s about the 1930s Ransome may not have directly dealt with the sexuality of his characters, but he does not shy away from contentious issues. In Coot Club the Hullabaloos are a social group that behaves in ways that many at the time, and now, would find unacceptable. To contrast with this there is the behaviour of some of the locals - George Owdon in Coot Club and The Big Six being a petty criminal and a general nuisance to everyone, the fathers of the Death and Glories, working class boat-builders, in The Big Six end up fighting on the staithe! These are not descriptions of a perfect middle-class world of perfect older children (the term teenager was not coined until the 1950s) as Ransome is often accused of doing (Chambers in his introduction rather over emphasises the point and only manages to weaken his argument, (p. 5-6, ibid)) but it is a world where wrongs can be and are nearly always righted.

The idea of a woman desiring her own sex is not new or unusual even at the time Ransome was writing, those who do not approve cannot deny its existence. In literature at the time Radclyffe Hall and Virginia Woolf were the most well known examples, they too gave their characters masculine names; Stephen and Orlando respectively (and of course some male writers ventured in to such areas, D H Lawrence being one of the most obvious.)

In objective terms to speculate on the possible adult lives of fictional children is in some ways an almost pointless activity, and even in some senses dangerous, but the difference with the characters created by Arthur Ransome is that we are given such an insight in to their inner lives that such speculation is inevitable. Additionally, there is so much we are not directly told about them but enough to encourage us to find out more. From my first ever reading I can well remember that they all felt ‘real’, these were children who, if my life was different in some way, I could have met, got to know and so shared in their adventures. Yet for the Swallows, Amazons, Ds and the others they were not just ‘adventures’, these were just the things that happened in their lives. Yes, parents and school lurk in the background almost as something that actually interferes, but as Nancy memorably says to Dick and Dorothea on their first meeting in Winter Holiday

“…but what are you? In real life, I mean.” (p. 39, Winter Holiday, Puffin, 1968.)

Review of the 2016 film 'Swallows and Amazons'

So at last the deed has been done.

Chance circumstances meant that I had an evening alone at home so I watched the new film adaptation of ‘Swallows and Amazons’ on DVD, I was able to prepare myself for this and so I was not disappointed. Everything I had gleaned from watching that first minute or so previously was confirmed, the team behind this production had acquired the rights to the book with the intention of making the film they really had in mind.

The starting point for the production team seems to have been to make a film that would appeal to children, in their view to do that it had to include spies, secret documents, guns and almost impossible chase scenes to top and tail the production (the one in the opening sequence ripping off nearly every film version of the ‘Thirty-Nine Steps’ in the process.) All of these additions to appeal to their notion of ‘modern’ children were in the lazy style of Enid Blyton’s writing – if the plot is flagging just introduce a totally improbable incident to grab everyone’s attention and hope they keep watching. This was made worse by taking elements of Ransome’s novel, changing them slightly, then slotting them in to the production, often out of narrative sequence, done so as a merely wasted attempt to try and keep the Ransome purists happy (the meeting by the Swallows with the charcoal burners being the worst example, the loss of the Amazon’s pocket knife being one of the most distorted.)

It was interesting that in the DVD ‘extras’ the writer and director make comments in interviews claiming, in as many words, that they wanted to be faithful to Ransome’s original. From the very first scene where an on-screen caption tells us the year is 1935 we can see that this intention of faithfulness soon got pushed aside by both of them.

Once the pre-credit sequence is over the actual credits use a cartoon style map of the lake, which topographically is completely wrong in comparison to Steven Spurrier’s in the book. It also contradicts the descriptions Ransome gives of where places are in relation to each other, on which Spurrier based his maps.

The film looks good, mostly, in terms of the cinematography of the English countryside but then fails when the Swallows reach the island. Though we know Wild Cat Island is a product of Ransome’s imagination it has its origins in Peel Island, and as the children walk around trying to find a suitable campsite it is just too big (in the original novel John swims around the island, I think even if he is a strong swimmer he would be hard pushed to do so with this island. Once the Amazons arrive on the island any illusion is destroyed. The ‘secret harbour’ is revealed and it is just a woeful inaccurate reconstruction and we are left wondering why they just didn’t film at the real place as was done for the 1974 film. The secret harbour does actually exist, possibly the production team had not been told. Many of the scenes involving buildings, exterior and interior, suffer from over set dressing based on an idealised form of what 1930s streets and interiors looked like.

The interpretation of the characters created by Ransome are let down in the film by the casting, characterisation and some poor acting. One of Ransome’s strengths as a writer, and to an extent illustrator, was his ability to give the reader a rounded view of even minor characters with very few words and through his simple black and white line drawings. The makers of the film seem to have been determined to change the nature of all of them completely, so for those of us familiar with the book we are constantly having our mental image of each one challenged and not in a good way. Mrs Walker’s detailed Australian roots are abandoned in favour of her being a woman brought up in the Scottish Highlands. Mrs Blackett, one of the few characters we are actually told little of in the entire series of novels other than as a widow with her ability to run her household and deal with her servants, is portrayed as a disorganised Pre-Raphaelite Bohemian individual living in a house that seems to be the reverse of Doctor Who’s Tardis (we are shown an exterior shot of Beckfoot, a large house facing the lake, which then cuts to an interior shot of a cramped dining room you would expect to see in a terraced house of the day.)

Four of the six children have no resemblance to the individuals we know through Ransome’s book; both John and Susan are too old for how Ransome described them (and the ages he gave them when planning the novel.) John comes across as pompous, overbearing and on occasions totally indifferent to his siblings and sometimes he is rude and hurtful towards them. Susan, the prototype ‘domestic goddess’ beloved of many devotees of the books, is shown to be a domestic ignoramus. Her only other attribute seems to be that she spends much of her time on screen moaning to John about how he treats her, behaving as if she is a put upon wife in a crumbling marriage. Nancy, who looks much younger than John though we know her to be older, and Peggy both come across as an almost last minute add-on to the plot, with the actors performing as if they have been brought in at short notice and have no idea what the film is about or what they are supposed to be doing. They also spend much time bickering with each other as if one of them has posted something the other didn’t like on Facebook. Titty and Roger are a different matter.

Before the film was made production details released to the media created some controversy in the renaming of ‘Titty’ as ‘Tatty’, something I commented on my first post here, yet strangely the portrayal of the character is almost a homage to the way Sophie Neville played Titty in the 1974 film except, unfortunately, there are scenes where she screams and screams like a spoilt brat (or more accurately like the infamous Violet Elizabeth Bott in the Richmal Crompton ‘William’ books.) Roger, considered by many to be the weakest casting of the children in the 1974 film, is a slight improvement in this version but in places, again like Titty, some of his scenes are almost a homage to that earlier version.

When we come to Jim Turner, Captain Flint, Nancy and Peggy’s uncle. Of all the characters in Ransome’s novels he is one of the few that we are giving detailed illustrations and descriptions of – memorably that he is balding and ‘fat’! In the 1974 film Ronald Fraser had his weaknesses in his portrayal, but he did actually look more like the character Ransome intended. Similarly, it was the intention of the film makers to make use of the relatively recent revelation that Ransome was a spy in Russia, but of course by 1935 he had left all this behind him and was making a living through journalism with the intention one day to write a novel that would appeal to children, though not specifically for them.

The script on occasions uses lines verbatim from the original novel, as comforting as this might be for those of us that know the book they are often put in to the mouths of other people for no obvious reason. When the Swallows find the Beckfoot boathouse with intention of capturing the Amazon’s boat only to find it not there, in the book John comments that this is ‘It’s an old pirate trick…’, in the film this is now spoken by Roger who only moments before been frightened, out of all proportion, by the two dummies left in another boat by the Amazons (an invented addition to the scene.)

There were parts of the film where, if I pushed aside in my mind all my knowledge of the original book, it was quite enjoyable but even then some aspect of the modern day, particularly language or character’s behaviour, would spring up and remind me I was watching a travesty of an adaptation of one of the great works of children’s fiction.