Roald Dahl (1916–1990)

This is sinister, and becomes more so as you progress through the story. Billy Weaver arrives in Bath, needing to find a room for the night. He asks at the station and is pointed to the hotel down the road, only on the way he sees a sign for Bed & Breakfast in a house window & feel compelled to knock at the door. The landlady has a warm motherly smile and things seem all a bit too good to be true, probably because they are. Feels a bit like the Hotel California, only less exotic. The unease show more gradually grows, but you never actually know if any of your suspicions are justified; the outcome is left entirely to your imagination... show less

Well this is a weird little book.

I know Dahl has written a few disturbing stories in his time, but this one has to be right up there with the disturbing-est of them. I’m not comfortable rating it at this time, mostly because it’s entirely possible that kids would like this book more than grownups. I don’t know what kid-me would have made of this, but grownup-me isn’t impressed.

Even the premise is wacky. There is a boy, George, who lives with his parents and his grandmother. The show more grandmother is old and sick, and because of this, she isn’t always very pleasant. (That seems fair . . . It’s hard to be cheerful when you don’t feel good.) One day, in a moment of either mischief or senility, she mentions that she has certain powers, and the boy gets a little bit scared of these alleged witchy powers that, as far as I can tell, she doesn’t even really have.

So he disposes of her medicine and replaces it with his own concoction, which, wouldn’t you know it, actually has real, non-alleged witchy powers.

Despite being super-gross and potentially lethal (I mean, come on, it’s got antifreeze in it, along with a bunch of other household chemicals), this potion actually puts her in a good mood. Unfortunately, it also alters her physically, and permanently. I won’t spoil too much here, except to say that things don’t end well for her, but nobody else seems to care. Well, the mom cares, a little bit, at first, but she gets over things speedily enough. Old people are a burden anyway. Hooray!

I mean, really? What on earth did I just read?

It’s too disturbing to be funny, it’s too bizarre to be scary, it’s too much of a downer to be whimsical, and the protagonists are too callous for me to enjoy the adventure. There’s one other thing, too. It may be that I’m reading too much into this, but I am irked at the unspoken implication that a woman who isn’t constantly cheerful isn’t worthy to live. Between this and The Witches, in which the magical forces preying on children are always female, I’m a bit disappointed. It’s hard to come to grips with the idea that this came from the same author who wrote such a wholesome adventure in James and the Giant Peach, and who gave us such a calm, dignified, and self-possessed heroine in Matilda. This just feels like a vindictive kid who takes his frustration out on an old, sick, feeble relative.

Again, I’m not exactly the target audience, and I recognize that my adult perspective may be hindering me from appreciating Dahl’s intent.

Still, wow. Not my cup of tea (er, I mean, medicine). show less

Reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory made me wince. Seems Dahl is trying to warn us of the proliferation of patronizing, misogynistic, judgmental, egomaniacal, narcisstic, and manipulative corporate CEO types. How Willy Wonker ended up in a children's book as a good guy is bizarre and.... wrong.

He has a serious problem interacting with adults and children. Gets away with his awful behavior because he's outrageously wealthy. Producing candy doesn't make him a hero.

Charlie and his show more family deserve better. show less

Why not call it poetry?

Here we have an excellent book for those who love children stories with a dark appeal. Fortunately, it also carries a moral: Silly children are not able to control their urges after being introduced to the Magic of the Chocolate Factory. So they are punished by the factory itself, an archetype of the 'real world' punishing people who are ignorant to their own sins. And the Oompa Loompas are the ones who deliver the lessons, and they do so in the most exquisite show more fashion:

These are Veruca’s new found friends
That she will meet as she descends,
And this is the price she has to pay
For going so very far astray.
But now, my dears, we think you might
Be wondering–is it really right
That every single bit of blame
And all the scolding and the shame
Should fall upon Veruca Salt?
Is she the only one at fault?
For though she’s spoiled, and dreadfully so,
A girl can’t spoil herself, you know.
Who spoiled her, then? Ah, who indeed?
Who pandered to her every need?
Who turned her into such a brat?
Who are the culprits? Who did that?
Alas! You needen’t look so far
To find out who these sinners are.
They are (and this is very sad)
Her loving parents, MUM and DAD.
And that is why we’re glad they fell
Into the garbage chute as well.”
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