It seems, in a most unexpected discovery, that Enid Blyton (1897–1968) – doyen of children’s writers in the mid-20th century and naturally long since castigated for her political incorrectness – was way ahead of the curve when it came to understanding the tearing of society apart by compelling everyone to join in the madness to be the same and using Stasi-like police as enforcers.
Perhaps living in a time of totalitarian dictatorships had helped hone her satirical take? I sat down the other day to read one of her books to my grandchildren. I plucked The Magic Faraway Tree off the shelf, a book first published in 1943, and started reading.
For those of you who don’t remember the book, the Magic Faraway Tree has a series of clouds that take their place at the top of the tree. The children in the stories climb the tree and go up into whichever magical land has appeared that day. In the chapter I started on, Topsy-Turvy Land has arrived. If that already sounds familiar, you’re not wrong.
In Topsy-Turvy Land a spell has been cast and everything is turned upside down. The children look around in amazement but settle down to eat. It’s all horribly familiar:
They all tucked in to a good lunch. In the middle of it, Joe happened to look round, and he saw something surprising: a policeman was coming, walking on his hands, of course.
“Look what’s coming,” said Joe with a laugh. Everyone looked. Moon-Face went pale.
“I don’t like the look of him,” he said. “Suppose he’s come to lock us up for something? We couldn’t get away down the Faraway Tree before this land swung away from the top!”
The policeman came right up to the little crowd under the tree.
“Why aren’t you Topsy-Turvy?” he asked in a stern voice. “Don’t you know that the rule in this land is that everything and everyone has to be upside down?”
“Yes, but we don’t belong to this silly land,” said Joe. “And if you were sensible, you’d make another rule, saying that everybody must be the right way up. I’ve just no idea how silly you look, policeman, walking on your hands!”
The policeman went red with anger. He took a sort of wand from his belt and tapped Joe on the head with it.
“Topsy-Turvy!” he said. “Topsy-Turvy!”
And to Joe’s horror he had to turn himself upside down at once! The others stared at poor Joe, standing on his hands, his legs in the air.
“Oh, fiddlesticks!” cried Joe. “I can’t eat anything properly now because I need my hands to walk with. Policeman, put me right again.”
“You are right now,” said the policeman, and walked solemnly away on his hands.
“Put Joe the right way up,” said Rick. So everyone tried to turn him over so that he was the right way up again. But as soon as they got his legs down and his head up, he turned topsy-turvy again. He just couldn’t help it, because he was under a spell.
A group of Topsy-Turvy people came to watch. They laughed loudly. “Now he belongs to Topsy-Turvy Land!” they cried. “He’ll have to stay here with us. Never mind, young man –you’ll soon get used to it.”
“Take me back to the Faraway Tree,” begged Joe, afraid that he really and truly might be made to stay in this peculiar land. “Hurry!”
The children beat a hasty retreat to get back home.
I don’t think I’m ruining it for you by saying that the following day the Land of Spells was coming to the top of the Tree, and upside-down Joe would be able to escape the terrible consequences of Topsy-Turvy Land.
At least they had a way out. However, I’m left wishing another land of spells would arrive in our own time and perhaps we could rid ourselves of the spell and insanity of Topsy-Turvy Land that took us over a few years ago.
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Brilliant, absolutely brilliant
Nails the modern world!
I haven’t given up on The Land of Spells coming soon
Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, men are women, criminals are victims, the workshy are really just ill, migrants don’t need passports, everyone is a racist and an islamophobe, and the dish ran away with the spoon.
That policeman in the story was quite mild in his strictures compared to the radically topsy-turvy Met police in La-La Londonstani-Land.
In that benighted city (formerly the English capital, now Sadist Khunt’s personal fiefdom) the police kowtow to hamas-terrorist-supporting, anti-Semitic, yelling flag wavers and do all they can to save them from being upset by the sight of an openly Jewish person in their vicinity.
However, try to wave the St George’s England flag in England and ‘You’re nicked’ is the pusillanimous plods’ reaction. Same happens if you’ve got the nerve to agree with the government and display a placard announcing the fact that ‘Hamas is a proscribed terrorist organisation’.
In Blyton’s fiction, you’re only forced to walk on your hands. Here in the UK in 2024, we’re forced to do outrageous mental contortions such as accepting gross insults to our nation and its flag being supported by the ‘authorities’; and supporters of izlamic terrorist scum being allowed to rule the streets as they spit in the faces of the government, the English people and our whole society & culture.
What happened to Boris’s water cannon (the only decent idea he had) after they were vetoed by DisMay (the most stupid PM we ever had)?