Philippa Pearce:
Tom’s Midnight Garden
Illustrated by Susan Einzig
OUP 2008 (1958)
When the dreamer dreams who dreams the dreamer? Do people change their essence as they age? And can Eternity be contained in a dream? Big questions, imponderable maybe, but ones raised by a reading of Tom’s Midnight Garden, first published over sixty years ago but retaining a freshness whilst reflecting the angst of childhood.
Though set in 1958 — when, incidentally, I was roughly the same age as young Tom — the story also harks back to the late Victorian period, specifically the late 1880s and 1890s. This is the time of the midnight garden, when orphan Hatty is growing up in a Cambridgeshire villa, reluctantly taken in by an unsympathetic aunt and largely left to her own devices.
Meanwhile — and it is a curious ‘meanwhile’ — Tom Long is sent to stay over summer with his aunt and uncle, in quarantine while his younger brother Peter recovers from measles. Like Hatty he is isolated from his contemporaries, and his yearning for company of his own age chimes in with the mystery of the grandfather clock that incorrectly marks the hours. At one witching hour, when thirteen is struck, Tom finds his way through the back door leading to a plot out of time.
This is a modern classic which, incomprehensibly, I’ve avoided up till now, and I have no idea why. I thought that maybe because it was regarded as somehow ‘worthy’ I may have been put off; and when I was reading its slow but atmospheric opening chapters in which nothing much happens I was almost convinced that was the case.
Then something wonderful occurred about the halfway mark and I couldn’t wait to see what was in the next chapter, and then the next. It was almost as if the concept of Time — which plays so much of a part in proceedings — was being simultaneously telescoped and stretched out on elastic. The climax of the story occurs during the severe winter of 1894-5 when rivers all over Europe and North America froze solid for months and ice skating was almost universal: Tom and Hatty’s epic journey down to Castleford (as Cambridge is called here) and on to Ely proves a turning point for their relationship and both their lives.
Like all the best novels Tom’s Midnight Garden keeps one thinking long after the last page is turned: the nature of change (already the rivers of the 1950s are polluted, and green space built on), the different concerns of youngsters and young adults, and the lack of understanding, even sympathy, shown by an older generation all emerge as themes. Has as much changed in the six decades since the novel was published as it did following the late Victorian period depicted in its pages?
But the heart of the story is the seemingly unlikely friendship which grows up between Tom Long and Henrietta Melbourne, both of whom appear ghost-like to the other, a feature which you might think would prove unsurmountable. How it unfolds is gentle and natural, how it becomes heartache for Tom is inevitable. The couple in the garden, the realisation not of their nakedness but of growing differences in their ages, the expulsion from their paradise — it’s hard not to see this as a metaphor, not necessarily of a religious nature, more of how we change as we age. Are we the same person when we’re many decades older? Can we remember what we were like at an age of relative innocence?
Pearce’s storytelling is artless, so that you’re not distracted by stylistic or verbal tics. The cultivated garden, the different seasons, the wildlife are mute yet telling actors in the drama, and the sense of generous space (despite hedges and the wall with a sundial) expands Tom’s nightly excursions out into orchard and meadow and beyond, down the river and through the fens.
Susan Einzig’s original line illustrations which feature as chapter headings are so vivid and so perfectly capture details in the story that it’s hard to think that any others would serve so well. Like a fly in amber or the mechanism of a clock that has wound down to a standstill they characterise the fateful phrase inscribed on the timepiece’s face: Time no longer. I’m glad to have finally made the acquaintance of this modern classic, a deserving winner of the Carnegie medal and a timeless evocation of youthfulness.
I had never heard of this until I took a class on children’s literature where it was one of the required texts. I don’t normally care for ‘ghost’ type tales but this had me entranced. The ice skating scene in particular was beautifully done.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’m not normally a fan of ghost tales, Karen — many are rather too run-of-the-mill for me — but some like this one have real heart. Others I’ve loved (and they’re mostly kids books) have been Alison Uttley’s A Traveller in Time and Diana Wynne Jones’ Time of the Ghost.
I agree about the ice-skating episode, very memorable. I wonder if it influenced Joan Aiken’s The Wolves of Willoughby Chase (1962) which has a similar ice-skating scene on a river in it? Pearce’s novel came out only four years before.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t know the Aiken book sorry
LikeLiked by 1 person
Absolutely no need to apologise, we can’t all know every title and I made assumptions!
LikeLike
This is a story that I love and your thoughtful post has captured all the reasons why. It is a book for both children and adults, I think. The concept of time and aging is so tenderly written. Perhaps not a ghost story in the usual sense.
When I read The Wolves of Willoughby Chase for the first time last summer I was reminded of this ice skating scene and of another in Little Women too.
Thank you for this review Chris, I enjoyed reading it very much.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’m glad my thoughts on this did your love for it justice, Anne, and yes, that denouement is tenderly done. You remind me that I must visit Little Women, another classic I’ve avoided for far too long, but sadly Anne of Green Gables is before it in the queue!
LikeLiked by 2 people
This is another childhood favorite of mine, I found it rather beautiful in its way. It had the potential to descend into somewhat sentimental territory, but somehow it didn’t. Quite a gentle story really, but with a definite charm about it. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
LikeLiked by 2 people
As someone only a decade away from the age Mrs Bartholomew has attained at the end of the novel, Alyson, but who also remembers being Tom’s age I found this true to life in many ways — as well as being charming, and neither sentimental nor mawkish.
They say friendships sometimes skip a generation, don’t they, and that seems to apply here: nearly all the adults are either mean-spirited or lacking imagination (even Hatty aged around 20 is putting aside childish things by interesting herself in Barty).
Yet Mrs B and Tom are able to share confidences in a way that he couldn’t with his parents, aunt or uncle. There have been projects where young children have been taken to visit old people inretirement homes, to the benefit of both generations but especially the senior citizens in terms of improved mental health. Tom and Mrs B of course have memories to share, which is the big difference.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Second book by her that was recently recommended to me, after Minnow on the Say.
Thanks, sounds really good!
LikeLiked by 2 people
I think this one is better known than Minnow on the Say though that one I know is highly rated. But do at least read this one, it’s great!
LikeLiked by 1 person
What is it about the ending of this book that, however many times I read it, always makes me cry? Something about the inevitability of time passing and leaving childhood behind, I think. A writer of rare power.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I confess my eyes were a little moist in the last couple of pages too, Alison. Leaving childhood behind is not often dealt with in children’s novels (if I remember right Peter Pan touches on it but then shies away) so I wonder how even not so sensitive young readers would react to it. As I hinted in a previous reply, I also empathised with grown-up Hatty, hearing Tom’s call — so much like Bobby’s ‘Daddy! My daddy!’ in The Railway Children — and her easy manner with Tom after a gap of six decades.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Gosh I’ve been meaning to read this since the BBC adaptation in the 70’s which I loved. What a beautiful stained glass window as well!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Jane, the window is from a country hotel near Brecon: I thought the design would suit the garden theme here. 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
Read this many years ago but will always remember that ‘epic’ journey to Castleford. Now I ask myself why I didn’t read any of her other books. Not too late I guess.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Never too late, Gert — remember, I’m a little older than you! I think that skating episode will linger for me too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is one of my all-time-favourites but I haven’t reread it recently (perhaps because I’ve been so focussed on finishing various series instead but also because I think I had the idea that the magical bits of it might not hold up so well – good to know I’ve no concerns on that score).
The ice-skating detail you’ve noted (here and also in Wolves) makes me wonder what you will think of the ice-skating in Little Women (when you get to it): maybe they both owe a wave in Alcott’s direction!
Will this be your first reading of Anne of Green Gables? You know there is an age-old division between those who love her Anne and those who love Emily? (I’m mostly kidding – although there is a division in many readers’ hearts and minds – between those who feel stronger towards one protagonist than the other. I’ve got different reasons for having loved both characters through the years.)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, this will be my first reading of Green Gables Anne! And isn’t that the great thing about characters in fiction, as much as with acquaintances, that you learn more and often different things about them at subsequent meetings? Looking forward to seeing who might be my favourite — until a second read!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Definitely! (And just to be more clear, Emily is in another series, the first book published in 1923, Emily of New Moon – lest you were heading into AoGG thinking you’d also be “meeting” Emily there. She’ll wait patiently in her own trilogy.)
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s really helpful to know, thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love Anne and Emily equally. They are very different people, and each exquisite in their own way.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Looks like I have a treat in store, Fiona! 🙂
LikeLike
I’ll be reading this quite soon as I think I’ve mentioned before and having read your charming and poignant review, Chris, I’m looking forward to it even more. Some of the themes you identify regarding passages of time, and how much we change/remain the same person as the years pass mirror my thoughts from The Go-Between. Fascinating.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I remember your Hartley review, Sandra, and while the Pearse is a lot shorter I do see the similarities in themes. Once you’ve read this I look forward to your responses to see if you’re of the same opinion! Having seen both film and TV adaptations I almost feel I’ve read the Hartley but I’d be lying if I said I had…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Maybe you’ll get to it one day, Chris!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Maybe! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: Time no longer — Calmgrove – Earth Balm Creative
This sounds like a wonderful read 🙂 Never heard of this one before, but you make a compelling case for it in your review. On the TBR it goes!
LikeLiked by 1 person
There are worthy modern classics which are struggle to get through, and there are modern classics which are worth only a slight effort — you can guess which category this title belongs in, Ola! Hope you eventually enjoy it! 😊
LikeLiked by 2 people
The book is up in my ‘top twenty’. I can also recommend ‘Minnow on the Say’ and ‘A Dog so Small’ but best of all is ‘What the Neighbours Did and Other Stories’. And, if you like Philippa Pearce, you’ll probably like Helen Cresswell. ‘The Nightwatchmen’ is fantastic and ‘Moondial’ contains one of the best children’s books opening in existence. 🙂
I’m looking forward to hearing your comments on ‘Anne’, another of my favourite books.
Thanks for posting Chris.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ll see what’s available from Powys libraries, Dale. Intriguingly, in view of my previous unfamiliarity with Jan Mark, my local library actually had one of her books on the shelves a short novel which I’ve now borrowed. I’m sure I could get either Pearce or Cresswell from there as well, and maybe both as well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for this post, Chris. You’ve reminded me of why I reread this so many times as a child.
I might have to track down a copy, I don’t think it’s amongst the few I’ve stashed away in the attic. I must have believed I’d outgrown it, at some point.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pleased you enjoyed this blast from the past, Cath; I’m like you in having mild regret to have discarded books I’d now like to reread with greater insight.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So many of them…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Tell me about it. 😁
LikeLike
https://waterfallmagazine.com
Thanks very interesting blog!
LikeLike
Pleased you found it so, thank you.
LikeLike