There are apparently 25 Jennings books, written between 1950 and 1999 – though I have only read the ones written in the 50s. Jennings himself is an average schoolboy, who is always in trouble, but with good intentions. He and his friend Darbishire are presented as well-meaning but catastrophic, which is what makes them funny – they infuriate their teachers, especially the stuffy Headmaster, Mr Pemberton-Oakes, and the hot-tempered Mr Wilkins. Anthony Buckeridge (1912 – 2004) attended a boarding school himself, and was later a teacher, which perhaps indicates the ability of his books to see both sides of the story – one of the teachers in particular, Mr Carter, is a sympathetic and friendly character.

To be fair, the stories are quite dated – I just love their retro language (everyone that Jennings doesn’t like is an ‘ozard oik’; a good idea is a ‘wizard prang’, and a favourite expression is ‘Fossilised fish-hooks!’), and the class assumptions of all boarding school stories of that period are present. But it is all such jolly good fun that it doesn’t matter. I suppose I always liked accident-prone characters who get into trouble (such as Just William – another perennial favourite – and Paddington).  I used to find books meant for boys preferable to those for girls for this reason, I think.  Jennings’ attempts to explain himself are always the funniest parts of the books, especially when he is misunderstood by his teachers. It’s such a relief to still find his escapades funny; and the books are well-written and have an enduring appeal, I think, despite their dated slang.

I wonder if perhaps the books will come back into favour one day soon (though I’m pleased to see they are still in print) because they seem to me to embody what being a child (especially a boy) is about. Jennings finds some lessons dull, but he genuinely tries to engage, and even though he misinterprets a lot of what he is taught, he enthusiastically tries to apply his knowledge, whether he’s writing a detective novel, being a space-man, or building a hut (to mention just a few of his many activities). He falls in ponds and ruins his best suit; he breaks windows with cricket balls, and many other no doubt reprehensible activities, but he enjoys himself so much, and he remains a pleasant, generally well-mannered boy throughout, who sticks to a strict code of behaviour (don’t tell on your friends, own up to your bad behaviour, try to help others, etc). I think I shall start sending copies to all the little boys I know.

I’m pleased to see that there is a Jennings fan site; and there is more information available about the books here.

NB I’m delighted to see on Wikipedia that the Jennings books were popular in Norway – after being rewritten, and Jennings renamed ‘Stompa’. This amuses me greatly.

 It tells the story of Penelope, a young girl who lives in London (presumably roughly contemporary to when it was written), but goes to stay with her aunt in Derbyshire, at an old manor house called Thackers. While she is there, she finds that she sometimes, accidentally, goes back in time to the Elizabethan period, and finds herself getting to know the Babington family, who are plotting to rescue Mary, Queen of Scots. Penelope falls in love with the place, the people and, particularly, young Francis Babington. Her dilemma is that she knows what their fate will eventually be, and that of Mary, but she is powerless to alter the course of history. Incidentally, since this book was published at the start of the war, I imagine it may have provided solace to many evacuees, also exiled from the familiar surroundings of London and other cities to the countryside. Penelope’s positive experience may have proved a timely role model for many children, not to mention escapism for those whose experience was not so happy.

Many of the places, and indeed the Babington family, are real, incorporated carefully into the story; and the detailed and evocative descriptions of the countryside and the ways of the country people are drawn from Uttley’s own Derbyshire childhood. One of the things I like so much about this book is the way that it shows a kind of continuity between past and present: the people, for example, change little over three hundred years: the countryside is the same and many of the methods of working the soil and caring for the animals do not change. Even the same, local words are used; and I particularly like that Uttley does not pander to children in explaining such things, but uses the words which are appropriate anyway. In fact, I think she uses quite mature themes, such as the necessity of accepting that one cannot change certain things, no matter how much one might want to.

The book is partly fantasy and partly pastoral idyll – it is, in my opinion, much more than ‘just’ a children’s book. The slipping between time periods seems effortless (and indeed my understanding of the ‘rules’ of time travel come entirely from this book: you can’t alter the events of the past; you can’t take things with you; one day you’ll leave and never return, etc). I remember visiting Chenies Manor, a house of roughly the same age as Thackers, when I was ten, expecting every moment to open a door and find myself in a different century. Such is the conviction bred by good writing.

 A Traveller in Time paints a wonderful picture of the Elizabethan world of the small manor house, the secrecy around the religious beliefs of the time, the obsessive devotion to Mary, Queen of Scots, and the upstairs-downstairs lives. It’s impossible not to get drawn into the story, because Uttley is an enthralling writer who really did her research. When I first read the book, I was obsessed with every detail, and in fact, re-reading it now, twenty-five years later, many of the things in the story are things with which I am still preoccupied: old houses and their link with the past; traces of the past in the present; Elizabethan life; Mary, Queen of Scots; the countryside; local language; herbalism, etc. It also sparked in me a life-long fascination with priest holes and secret passageways! Not only is this a most enjoyable read, it also reminded me of how I developed some of my current interests.

One of my favourite places to visit now is Baddesley Clinton, a National Trust property in the West Midlands. It is a moated manor house which was occupied by a Catholic family during the reign of Elizabeth, and contains several priest holes. I think perhaps I like it so much because in it I sense echoes of Thackers.

I also want to know what it is about these books that I (and no doubt many others) loved so much: what keeps children going back to these books? I hope, over the course of what will probably be several years, to answer these questions and more. I have a long list of authors and books I want to revisit – and that’s before I’ve even started searching for the books; I’m sure I will find many books that I had forgotten.

Of course there is some trepidation that I might not enjoy these books this time round. But that is a risk I have to take, and a fear that I am sure will be unfounded.