William Again

LoveReading4Kids Says

Everyone's favourite troublemaker, William Brown, is back. Now with a brand-new cover look illustrated by Chris Garbutt.  The irrepressible William returns with fourteen fantastic adventures. Totally bankrupt, William and Ginger can't even buy sweets. But then William has a brilliant idea - they could sell Ginger's twin cousins as slaves! Before too long, William is in serious trouble - again.

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."

A word from Louise Rennison  ‘Get ready to laugh until you think your boots will never dry. And on a more practical level, learn new ways to annoy people’

'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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