More William

LoveReading4Kids Says

When Aunt Lucy tells William that 'a busy day is a happy day', William does his best to keep himself very busy indeed. Unfortunately, not everyone appreciates his efforts to cheer up Christmas Day - and when a conjuring trick with an egg goes very badly wrong, William finds himself in more trouble than ever!

A Piece of Passion from the Editorial Director, Gaby Morgan - "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."

Martin Jarvis says  ‘This is one of the funniest books I’ve read. When I was recording it for the BBC Audio a few years ago there were tims when I could hardly keep going, simply because of the situations in which Williams gets embroiled and the brilliant hilarity of Richmal Crompton’s writing. I’d be hooting with laughter, then just when I thought I’d regained some semblance of professional control, I’d glance up from the microphone, only to see the studio engineer and my co-producer doubled up with mirth on the other side of the glass... which set me off once more.  Exquisite agony!  The Harry Potter of the ‘20s’

'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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