Danny is still the champion

During my primary school years, there was one book I would always go back to. When I was having a difficult time, feeling unsettled or scared, I would turn to Roald Dahls "Danny the Champion of the World". I remember it vividly - it was a hard cover, beautifully illustrated, with thick yellowing pages on the inside. It even had the old-style clear plastic cover on the outside. Oh and the scent, it just told you it was a story worth reading. I wouldn't even like to hazard a guess at how many times I borrowed that book from my school library. Truth be told, I half expected it to be given to me as a gift, seeing as I had possession of it so often. I really wish now, that I had the sense to steal it when I had the chance.

There was something safe about diving into Danny's world. Danny didn't have a perfect life, but still he was able to overcome bad things and bad people. I guess there is a safety that comes from reading a story where you know it works out in the end. Despite the amount of times I read it, I never got sick of it, and still even to this day I wouldn't hesitate to pick it up again. It saddens me however that my modern paperback cover doesn't hold the magic of 'my' original.

I don't know why this came to my mind recently. I suppose it's because I'm feeling a little unsettled again. All this talk of moving from my home, the upheaval and outpouring of emotion and tears that my mother just can't seem to stop. My own feelings of loneliness, fear. I might just have to pick up Danny again soon.

I'm heading to the city for a few days tomorrow, and even though there won't be much time for old book hunting I will be keeping an eye out for my very special Danny.




SB xx