In 1986, Gardner told the Bookseller that she thought the Ask Oliver books were suitable for children up to the age of 10, and were a response to Terrance not being able to find suitable reading for his own youngest son — also called Oliver. Gardner’s responses in that interview are really interesting on why the books Terrance wrote for her appealed to young readers, and how unusual it was for someone to write for this particular age group:
“It’s important for children of this age who have begun to read to have books which they can actually finish … That’s a very great achievement for a child—actually to be able to say, I’ve read a whole book.”
“I think children who are grappling with early reading find it easier if they can go on to other books with a character already formed in their minds.”
“Writers are often not attracted to write for this age range simply because it isn’t as prestigious as fiction for older children. There’s no kudos in it, really; there are no major awards for books for this age range, for example.” — Tony Bradman, “Problems for the five to eights”, Bookseller, 15 March 1986, pp. 1066-67.
Ask Oliver has a similar set-up to Terrance’s already established and ongoing range of Baker Street Irregulars books for slightly older readers, published by Blackie & Son (where the publishing director who got Terrance involved was Richard Henwood, also ex of Target). As with the first of that series, The Case of the Missing Masterpiece, this first case involves a theft from a local amenity (there an old house open to the public, here a museum) which four local kids investigate because they want to be like Sherlock Holmes.
What’s different is that the adventures of the Baker Street Irregulars are narrated by Rob, the leader of the gang and the one who is a fan of the Holmes stories. Here, the gang is led by proactive Pete, it’s cheerful Gupta who knows his Holmes, and Oliver is “the youngest and smallest of Pete’s gang”, as the back-cover blurb puts it. As with the Baker Street Irregulars, there is also a Girl One, in this case Vicky, “a quiet, rather serious girl” (p. 6).
Oliver is small, quiet and often overlooked.
“He didn't talk much but he thought a lot. Oliver noticed things.” (p. 6)
This made me think of Bill Roach, the bullied schoolboy in Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy whose watchfulness is spotted by Jim Prideaux. But I think the plot here owes much more to Beau Geste (1924) by PC Wren; as this book was published, Douglas Camfield was busy directing a TV version of Beau Geste, broadcast later in the year. Terrance was script editor.
Like Beau Geste, the plot here involves the theft of a diamond where we're invited to guess who took it, but in fact the real mystery is revealed to be something else. Here, the diamond was “given” (p. 10) to the present museum owner’s great grandfather by an Indian sultan — which may be an homage to the classic Holmes adventures The Sign of the Four (1890). (The TV version of Beau Geste followed the TV version of The Hound of the Baskervilles, also script edited by Terrance, so I think this stuff was all in his head.)
The children get involved because the disappearance of the diamond leads to the police taking in museum attendant Mr Morrison. His previous kindness to the children means that they — and therefore we — think he must be innocent. But Oliver observes what the others have not: that Morrison wasn't arrested (p. 16).
There’s some typically Terrance stuff in the use of food: “doughnuts are very consoling in times of trouble” (p. 14). It’s a shame Vicky’s usefulness to the plot involves her pretending to be younger than she is, and ditzy, and threatening to blub, to get a hotel clerk to share the information the gang needs (p. 28). Cornered by adults, Gupta tries to bluff his way out by pretending to be the son of a sultan (p. 35). It’s a bit… at best, cliched and simplistic.
Facing further peril, Vicky won’t hide with boys in the toilets — “she didn’t think it would be proper, even for a detective” (p. 39). That feels a little too much like a 50-something male writer safely at home at his keyboard, and not what a real girl facing danger would say. Terrance often writes bolshier female characters, sometimes a bit over-zealous and wreckless in their efforts to be just as good as the boys. This feels a bit less rich.
For all that, it’s a fast-moving, twisty and ingenious story. As with The Casing of the Missing Masterpiece, our heroes circumvent genre cliches by going to the police, and are concerned by what their parents will think — so it all feels grounded in the real. The story is broken up by lots of illustrations by Valerie Littlewood, and is divided up into five chapters.The penultimate chapter even lists clues we should go back and check for, with hints to help us solve the case. We’re an active participant as reader. The blurb asks, “Can you guess who did it before Oliver”, promising that, “Clues are given in the story to help you solve the mystery” — and encouraging young readers to play along.
In fact the revelation is that this is a why rather than who dunnit.
“If no one could work out how it had been stolen, no one would worry about what had been stolen. The theft somehow made the diamond look real.” (p. 53).
Effectively, it turns the game we’re playing isn’t the one we initially thought. I’d have loved that as a kid, and eagerly moved on to the gang’s next adventure…
I’ve written lots more posts on the 235 books by Terrance Dicks. My biography Written by Terrance Dicks will be published soon.



No comments:
Post a Comment