Joyce Lankester Brisley (6 February 1896 – 1978) was an English writer. She is most noted for writing and illustrating the Milly-Molly-Mandy series, which were first printed in 1925 by the Christian Science Monitor.
The second of three daughters of George Brisley, a pharmacist, of Bexhill-on-Sea, Sussex, Brisley's sisters - Ethel Constance, the eldest, and Nina Kennard, the youngest - were also illustrators. They studied art firstly at Hastings School of Art, then, following their parents' divorce in 1912 and the subsequent relocation of the girls and their father to Brixton, at Lambeth School of Art.
All three sisters illustrated postcards for the publisher Alfred Vivian Mansell & Co., with Nina (who also illustrated Elinor Brent-Dyer's Chalet School series) and Ethel becoming quite prolific. Brisley died in September 1978 at the age of 82.
When I was little, my mother would read me the Millie-Molly-Mandy books by Joyce Lankester Brisley that she read as a girl. I thought the stories were rather boring back then. But reading them again as an adult, I found them charming. So much so, that I set out to track down the rest of the MMM books, and then Brisley’s other books, which are less accessible.
The hardest to find was this one, Another Bunchy Book. As far as I can tell, its never been reissued since it was originally published in 1951. Initially there was a copy from a bookseller in England listed on AbeBooks.com, but I wasn’t willing to pay over $100 for this. Next time I checked, there was one copy for around $60 from another bookseller, but when I finally decided to order it I found the seller was on vacation—the seller has been on vacation for years now. Eventually another copy appeared and I ordered it, but a week later I received a message that the seller didn’t have it after all and was refunding the payment. Finally, after a year or two more, an inexpensive copy turned up on eBay from a seller in the UK. It took a few weeks to arrive, and it’s in rough shape, with loose pages, foxing, moisture damage and a few scattered pen and pencil marks. There’s only one color plate at the front, and I suspect there may have been more that were removed, but perhaps not. But it is readable.
So, was it worth the years of searching? Eh. Probably not, beyond my desire to complete my Brisley collection. Not that it’s bad. I am glad I didn’t pay $60 for it, though.
The book is a collection of seven brief stories about a little girl named Bunchy. She’s maybe around 5 or 6 (in the last story, “Bunchy and the Pencil-box” she is starting school the next day.) She lives alone with her grandmother, and there is nothing to indicate where her parents are. She lives in the same village as Milly-Molly-Mandy, but apparently not in town but more out in the country, where she’s isolated. (I only know this because she meets MMM in Milly-Molly-Mandy Again (1948) in the story “Milly-Molly-Mandy Goes Sledging.”) Unlike MMM, who has a large family and several friends, Bunchy doesn’t have any friends, and never interacts with anyone but her grandmother, who always seems busy doing something else. Not that grandmother ignores or neglects her, but she doesn’t play with her either, which is probably just a reflection of the era when children were expected to entertain themselves.
In each story, her grandmother gives her something to play with, and as she does she anthropomorphizes to interact and have imaginary conversations with the object or parts of it. In one story, her grandmother shows her how to cut out paper doll chains and they play games together until the doll chain that didn’t turn out right ruins it. Eventually, she threatens that she’ll toss the naughty paper dolls in the fire, and follows through when they refuse to behave.
Some of the stories reflect a more historic time. In the amusingly titled “Bunchy and the Peep-show,” her grandmother brings out one of the peep shows she made as a child with her sisters. It’s a long cardboard box that stretches out like an accordion. Inside at intervals are paper cut outs, and on one end is an eye hole the size of a penny. Looking inside is like seeing a whole panorama stretching into the distance. Grandmother explains they used to sell kits to make these. (I’d guess that would have been the late 1800s?) Bunchy imagines going inside the box, walking under the paper trees, meeting the lord and lady further along and having them join her; they are chased to the cabin by the lion and almost reach the distant fairy castle when her grandmother calls Bunchy to dinner. In “Bunchy and the Stafford Figure” grandmother takes her treasured Stafford figure of a lady on a horse from the mantle and puts it on the floor for Bunchy to look at before bed. Bunchy talks to the lady, who lets her ride behind her on the horse to Stafford. It seems “Stafford” is another Stafford figure of a castle on a hill in another part of the house.
There’s a simplicity and imagination to the stories that is rather charming. Bunchy doesn’t seem to have any toys or books of her own, and they never leave the house to go anywhere, but she manages with what she has. It’s not a spectacular book by any means, or even a lost gem. But it was nice to read, and I can see how it would have been a great bedtime story book for young children. It’s also a bit sad, as it’s clear that Bunchy longs for friends, though she seems content enough making imaginary friends out of anything and everything she can find.