Guus Kuijer 2012 ALMA winner

This is what I wrote about Kuijer in my book Power, Voice and Subjectivity in Literature for Young Readers (2010):

In Guus Kuljer’s The Book of Everything (2005) the protagonist’s father is a horrible tyrant who not only imposes strict rules in his wife and children, but does not stop at hitting them. The nine-year-old Thomas is mortally scared of his father, but gradually learns to interrogate his authority, and with some help from both adults and other children finally causes his total defeat. Significantly enough, there is a figure in the novel similar to Granny in Aldabra [by Silvana Gandolfi] in her role of the wise woman. She is in fact believed to be a witch, but both the character and the reader are left to make their own inferences whether the seven plagues she sends on the Thomas’s father are real witchcraft, a coincidence, or the product of wishful thinking. Thomas is, unlike Pippi Longstocking, not the strongest boy in the world, but his special gift is seeing things that aren’t there, that is, having powerful imagination. He also finds strength and inspiration in reading. Three other children’s books are mentioned in The Book of Everything – and one non-children’s book. The latter is the Bible, which the father states is the only true book, while all other books, including those children are assigned to read at school, are false. The children’s books, that the witch neighbor gives Thomas to read, are Emil and the Detectives, by Erich Kästner, and Sans Famille, or The Foundling, by Hector Malot. Neither the author nor the adult character comment on the choice, but the protagonist contemplates why he has been given the books. He realizes that both books are about lonely children, children that have to cope on their own; books that encourage him not to be afraid. The third book is a collection of nonsense verses by the Grand Old Lady of Dutch children’s literature, Annie M. G. Schmidt, that apart from their role in the narrative itself, also demonstrates the liberating effect of reading for pleasure as compared to the boring Bible recitations by the father. Kuijer thus depicts a competent child, whose moral and intellectual strength wins over the adult’s physical superiority. When asked what he wants to be when he grows up, Thomas says that he wants to be happy. In some way, this is a proper dialogical reply to the affirmative ending of Pippi Longstocking.

Close encounters with children's writers, part 3

In 1991 I was spending three weeks as a guest lecturer at the University of Reading. My good friend and colleague Tony Watkins mentioned, among many other exciting things going on, that there was a writer in residence, "not a very famous one, but he has written some good historical novels". Sadly, I had to leave in the middle of my visit due to family circumstances, so I never got to meet the historical novelist, who, some years later, became famous for something else.

In February 2005, the Swedish Embassy in London gave a reception for all British nominees for the Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award. The embassy employees were perplexed. "What is it about children's literature? We invited these people, and they all came!" Yes, they all came, Diana Wynne Jones and Shirley Hughes and John Burningham and Philip Pullman and all cream of the cream of British children's literature. They all said it was a great honour to have been nominated. I shook hands with them, I said how delighted I was to meet them. I was delighted to meet them. I was especially delighted to meet someone I knew was getting the award, but of course I wasn't allowed even to hint. Yet I did. I said: "I hope to see you in Stockholm soon". I did, three months later, at the award ceremony.

Yesterday, at the Philippa Pearce memorial lecture, I asked my dear friend Morag for a special privilege: could she ask the Author to sign a book for my granddaughter. There was a signing session, but since my book was pre-signed, I jumped the line to collect it and say a quick thank you. The Author looked up from the piles of books he was signing and said: "Good to see you. Was it in Stockholm I saw you last?" "No, I said, it was in Oxford. Also known as the Other Place". The Author smiled.

From a former jury member

This afternoon I watched the announcement of this year's Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award winner on my computer. I am not supposed to reveal how the jury works - it's just as top secret as the Nobel Prize - but I can share the excitement of the moment when a year of hard work focuses on one sentence: "The winner of this year's award is..." And the people in the room, and people out there watching and listening, either say, disappointed: "Who's that?" or yell ecstatically: "YES!". I yelled "YES!" in the empty house today, because  Shaun Tan was my favourite.

I am a bit sad about not being part of the jury any more, but it wouldn't have worked when we moved to Cambridge, and at that point I also felt that six years was enough. It was a lot more work than we all realised when we were asked to be on the jury ten years ago. It was however so gratifying that it was worth all the trouble. Reading books from all over the world, books I would probably not have read otherwise. Meeting regularly to talk about books. Meeting to ARGUE about books. We child lit people are normally very kind and well-behaved, but in a jury you have to be able to argue, even quarrel, to come up with a good winner. The statutes of the award specify "literature of highest literary quality in the spirit of Astrid Lindgren". What is highest quality? What does "in the spirit" mean? And how often do we have the privilege of talking to colleagues on these matters?

So back to that moment, after all the reading and discussing and arguments, when the jury has made a decision, we call the winner, perhaps waking them up at dawn or catching them at the last moment before they go out to walk the dog; the voice in the loudspeaker as the Chair of the jury says: "You are the winner", and hearing sometimes: "Is it a joke?" or "I didn't know I was nominated" or "Now I can repair the roof". And then the lunch just before the announcement, the press outside, the tension. Then - interviews, champagne and the long coach ride back to Stockholm, listening to news and comments. And looking forward to the award ceremony.

I hope the jury are still having fun.