William at War

LoveReading4Kids Says

Richmal Crompton's much-loved character, William Brown, is back in ten wartime stories, set during World War II. William is always ready to offer his services to his country. But why is it that his enthusiastic contribution is so seldom appreciated? William is determined to do his bit, but unfortunately no one else thinks he'd make a hero. This title includes ten wonderful wartime stories where William proves himself just as dangerous, unpredictable and downright troublesome as the Enemy themselves.

A Piece of Passion from the Editor - "I love William Brown, Richmal Crompton’s scruffy, incorrigible hero. I want to join his gang, the Outlaws, and roam about with Ginger, Henry and Douglas. He is very, very funny, and ninety-six years after his first appearance William is still delighting fans with his well-meant plans that always go awry, and his endless optimism. If William wants something he will find a way to make it happen and when things go wrong, as they always do, he will think of a way, however unconventional, of ‘sorting it out’.  I am reassured and comforted by his long-suffering family. His forgiving mother and unimpressed father; his glamorous sister, Ethel, forever being courted by suitors; his uptight brother; his excellent dog, Jumble, and an endless supply of cousins and aunts. He has come to symbolize a particular vision of childhood – a scruffy, confident boy who spends his time outside planning and playing, leaving a trail of chaos and mayhem in his wake."

Praise from Charlie Higson ‘Today William would probably be put into therapy and made the subject of a documentary.  Except, of course, William always got away with it.  Despite the trail of chaos and anarchy he leaves behind, he always ends up as the only thing that any boy has ever wanted to be.  A hero.’ 

'Sue Townsend learned to read with Just William:  I learned to read during the three weeks I was away from school with a spectacular case of mumps. (Mumps were mumps in the 1950s.) My mother went to a rummage sale and came back with a pile of William books written by Richmal Crompton, a person I assumed to be a man. I looked at the illustrations and laughed, then I tried to read the captions underneath these delightful scratchy drawings. My mother helped me out, and slowly and mysteriously the black squiggles turned into words which turned into sentences, which turned into stories. I could read. There should have been a 100-gun salute. The Red Arrows should have flown overhead. The night sky should have blazed with fireworks. I joined the library thirsting after more William books. I read one a day and then two a day,then I ran out and fumbled along the library shelves pulling out books at random. Nothing was ever as good as William, but the die was cast, I was addicted to print.' The Guardian

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