Many years ago there was a little boy who loved to read. Books, especially ones for children, were hard to come by where he lived. One day he discovered books by an author named Enid Blyton. They were magical. Over the years he collected and read as many of these books as he could get his hands on. Time passed and eventually the books were lost or given away, and the memories receded.
One day something magical happened again. A portal opened up and the all the old books, as well as many new undiscovered ones appeared. This is the story of that rediscovery.
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In my book on Enid Blyton, titled, The Famous Five: A Personal Anecdotage (www.thefamousfiveapersonalanecdotage.blogspot.com), I too had complained about the cartoonish images of The Famous Five copies that were published in the United States. I listed (though ephemeral) this as one of the reasons why The Famous Five books may have not appealed to many Americans. Yeah, illustrations do matter.
Stephen Isabirye