I was seven years old when I was shepherded into Mrs Hazard's class, deemed stupid and unwilling to learn by my teachers of the previous years. I had spent kindergarten a scared, confused child, who couldn't focus on the words on the board in front of me. Year One had been the same; why was everyone else reading and writing and I couldn't grasp it? But here was a gentle woman, who smiled down on us and said that we were going to read a story. I was bored. I knew I wouldn't be able to follow the words, but then she picked up a gorgeous picture book, and started reading. I was hooked.
Around that same time, someone, and I've never been sure who, recommended my parents take me to get my eyes checked. Hallelujah! with those ugly frames I could see, and the dreaded words formed. Within weeks I was writing my own stories, magical stories about funny lands, and especially about animals. By the end of the year, I was no longer thought of as stupid, and school become this marvelous place where you could go and leave with your head full of things you'd never known before.
Of course this book was a Faraway tree novel. Mrs Hazard had been using this book as a tool for years, and used it up until her retirement as far as I know. I'm sure I wasn't the only person enthralled by the Faraway Tree; it took me out of that classroom and into a world that didn't judge whether you were smart, only kind, goodhearted and polite. Years later I was asked to pick three different medias for an imaginative English elective. I choose a poem compulsory for the whole class, Kingdom Hearts, and this series. I spoke for ten minutes about how the imagination grows from an understanding of language; that the roots to the images in our heads is the understanding of that language. Every person, when hearing the sentence 'The Cat sat on the Mat', pictures a different cat, a different mat, according to their own understanding and interpretation. But the language is only the root, the trunk of the tree being the understanding of the roots, and the branches arching up as a reflection of those roots, stretching endlessly toward the sky and reaching ever upwards in understanding. I even spoke of the lands at the top of the tree, and how imaginative they are. Once again, The Faraway Tree helped me improve my grade and impress my teachers.
So this series means a lot to me. Sure, some people see the racism and stereotypes in Enid's work. But go back, and ask that seven year old, and she will see none of these things. She sees magic and understanding. Enid was a turning point in my life, the thing that made me long to tell my own stories and have my own adventures. And there's nothing wrong with that.