Michelle J. Smith

This collection will draw attention to new ideas in both Victorian studies and in the emerging area of literature and the environment. Adopting a broad interpretation of the term ‘environment’ the work aims to draw together new approaches to Victorian texts and cultures that conceptualise and are influenced by environments ranging from rural to urban, British to Antipodean, and from the terrestrial to the aquatic.With the pressures of industrialism and the clustering of workers in urban centres, the Victorians were acutely aware that their environment was changing.  Torn between nostalgia for a countryside that was in jeopardy and exhilaration at the rapidity with which their surroundings altered, the literature and culture produced by the Victorians reflects a world undergoing radical change. Colonization and assisted emigration schemes expanded the scope of the environment still further, pushing the boundaries of the ‘home’ on an unprecedented scale and introducing strange new worlds. These untamed physical environments enabled new freedoms, but also posed challenges that invited attempts to control, taxonomize and harness the natural world. Victorian Environments draws together leading and emerging international scholars for an examination of how various kinds of environments were constructed, redefined, and transformed, in British and colonial texts and cultures, with particular attention to the relationship between Australia and Britain.

This volume explores the relationship between representation, affect, and emotion in texts for children and young adults. It demonstrates how texts for young people function as tools for emotional socialisation, enculturation, and political persuasion. The collection provides an introduction to this emerging field and engages with the representation of emotions, ranging from shame, grief, and anguish to compassion and happiness, as psychological and embodied states and cultural constructs with ideological significance. It also explores the role of narrative empathy in relation to emotional socialisation and to the ethics of representation in relation to politics, social justice, and identity categories including gender, ethnicity, disability, and sexuality. Addressing a range of genres, including advice literature, novels, picture books, and film, this collection examines contemporary, historical, and canonical children’s and young adult literature to highlight the variety of approaches to emotion and affect in these texts and to consider the ways in which these approaches offer new perspectives on these texts. The individual chapters apply a variety of theoretical approaches and perspectives, including cognitive poetics, narratology, and poststructuralism, to the analysis of affect and emotion in children’s and young adult literature.

Colonial Girlhood in Literature, Culture and History, 1840-1950 explores a range of real and fictional colonial girlhood experiences from Jamaica, Mauritius, South Africa, India, New Zealand, Australia, England, Ireland, and Canada to reflect on the transitional state of girlhood between childhood and adulthood. The interconnected themes of colonialism, empire, gender, race, and class show how colonial girls occupy ambivalent positions in British and settler societies between 1840 and 1950. Although girlhood is often linked to freedom, independence, novelty, and modernity, it may also represent an idea that needs to be contained and controlled to serve the needs of the nation. Across national boundaries, the malleability of colonial girlhoods is evident. Drawing on a range of approaches including history, anthropology, and literary and cultural studies, this book reflects on the complexities of girlhood during the colonial era.

Contents:
1. Colonial Girlhood/Colonial Girls; Kristine Moruzi and Michelle J. Smith
PART I: THEORISING THE COLONIAL GIRL
2. Colonialism: What Girlhoods Can Tell Us; Angela Woollacott
3. Fashioning the Colonial Girl: 'Made in Britain' Femininity in the Imperial Archive; Cecily Devereux
PART II: ROMANCE AND MARRIAGE
4. 'Explorations in Industry': Careers, Romance, and the Future of the Colonial Australian Girl; Ken Gelder and Rachael Weaver
5. Deflecting the Marriage Plot: The British and Indigenous Girl in 'Robina Crusoe and Her Lonely Island Home' (1882-1883); Terri Doughty
6. Coming of Age in Colonial India: The Discourse and Debate over the Age of Consummation in the Nineteenth Century; Subhasri Ghosh
PART III: RACE AND CLASS
7. 'My blarsted greenstone throne!': Māori Princesses and Nationhood in New Zealand Fiction for Girls; Clare Bradford
8. Black Princesses or Domestic Servants: The Portrayal of Indigenous Australian Girlhood in Colonial Children's Literature; Juliet O'Conor
9. The Jam and Matchsticks Problem: Working-Class Girlhood in Late Nineteenth-Century Cape Town; S. E. Duff
PART IV: FICTIONS OF COLONIAL GIRLHOOD
10. The Colonial Girl's Own Papers: Girl Authors, Editors, and Australian Girlhood in Ethel Turner's Three Little Maids; Tamara S. Wagner
11. 'I am glad I am Irish through and through and through': Irish Girlhood and Identity in L.T. Meade's Light O' the Morning; or, The Story of an Irish Girl (1899); Beth Rodgers
12. Making Space for the Irish Girl: Rosa Mulholland and Irish Girls in Fiction at the Turn of the Century; Susan Cahill
13. Education and Work in Service of the Nation: Canadian and Australian Girls' Fiction, 1908-1921; Kristine Moruzi and Michelle J. Smith
PART V: MATERIAL CULTURE
14. Picturing Girlhood and Empire: The Guide Movement and Photography; Kristine Alexander
15. Material Girls: Daughters, Dress, and Distance in the Trans-Imperial Family; Laura Ishiguro
16. An Unexpected History Lesson: Meeting European 'Colonial Girls' through Knitting, Weaving, Spinning, and Cups of Tea; Fiona P. McDonald

As part of the ongoing project of retrieving women writers from the margins of literary and cultural history, scholars of literature, history, and gender studies are increasingly exploring and interrogating girls’ print culture. School stories, in particular, are generating substantial scholarly interest because of their centrality to the history of girls’ reading, their engagement with cultural ideas about the education and socialization of girls, and their enduring popularity with book collectors. However, while serious scholars have begun to document the vast corpus of English-language girls’ school stories, few scholarly editions or facsimile editions of these novels and short stories are readily available.

Girls’ School Stories in English, 1749–1929, a new title from Routledge and Edition Synapse’s History of Feminism series, provides a vital resource to cater to this growing critical interest. This unique collection answers the important need to balance the historical record of canonical literature for young people in the nineteenth century and early twentieth century with popular fictions that had wide, devoted, and—following the emergence of school-series fiction—ongoing readerships. Moreover, existing scholarship has not yet explicated the connections between the British genre and its adaptation to colonial and American readerships, and one of the functions of this collection is to document the evolution of the girls’ school-story genre in Britain to pinpoint the development and contestation of its signature tropes, and to trace the refinement and reproduction of these elements in Canadian, Australian, and American print cultures.

The six volumes in the collection cover the years 1749 to 1929, a temporal span designed to demonstrate the origins of the genre and its development throughout the Victorian and Edwardian eras. It concludes with works from the 1920s that coincide with a peak in the genre’s popularity. And the thematic, rather than chronological, organization of the set allows users easily to compare and contrast (across time and place) school-story conventions and attitudes with issues such as women’s higher education.

Volume I (‘Moral Education’) of the set draws attention to some of the earliest school stories published for girls in the eighteenth century, many of which situated moral improvement and rationality as the primary purpose of girls’ education. Early stories, such as Dorothy Kilner’s Anecdotes of a Boarding School; or, An Antidote to the Vices of those Establishments (1790), which is reproduced in full, were especially influenced by religious imperatives. While the overtly religious nature of these texts declined throughout the nineteenth century, the girls’ school story continued to present a strong moral code based on honour and selflessness, which is shown in an excerpt from Canadian Ethel Hume Bennett’s novel, Judy of York Hill (1922).

The girls’ school story is typically one of transformation, in which the protagonist learns to conform to the rules and codes of school life. Volume II (‘The New Girl’), therefore, focuses on the generic conventions associated with a new student arriving at school, in which the girl does not initially understand or comply with the expectations of teachers and peers. While it presents examples that adhere to the model of successful transformation, this volume also reproduces some striking instances where this trope is subverted. It includes the full text of noted school-story author L. T. Meade’s Wild Kitty (1897), which depicts a ‘wild Irish girl’ protagonist who is unable to be tamed by the English school environment, as well as a story from the Australasian Girls’ Annual, ‘Vic and the Refugee’ (1916), in which the new girl is revealed to be a spy.

Volume III (‘Unruly Femininity’) concentrates on girls who are disobedient, impulsive, or who are fun-loving ‘madcaps’. It contains the full texts of Mary Hughes’ The Rebellious Schoolgirl (1821), which is distinctive as one of the first sympathetic portrayals of a girl who has yet to understand and abide by the rules of the school, and Evelyn Sharp’s The Making of a Schoolgirl (1897), which complicates some of the school-story tropes. Nonetheless, many of these school stories are heavily invested in defining a feminine ideal, as we see in a later short story, ‘Teddy Versus Theodora’ (1910).

In addition to defining a feminine ideal, many schoolgirl heroines take their family and school responsibilities seriously, as markers of their desire to be good and to succeed academically. Volume IV (‘Duty and Responsibility’) demonstrates the ways in which girl heroines can have different expectations and attitudes towards their families, their studies, and their friends. The novel that is reproduced in full in this volume, Elsie Jeanette Oxenham’s The Abbey Girls (1920), is the foundational text produced by one of the most popular writers of girls’ school stories and was the basis for dozens of further books. It emphasizes the rewards that issue from sacrifice, with the heroine passing up a scholarship to allow her cousin to attend school, only to receive an inheritance at the novel’s closure that allows her also to enrol at the school. A girl’s responsibility to her country is particularly evident in an excerpt from Angela Brazil’s The Patriotic Schoolgirl (1918), in which the students are encouraged to consider how they can help national war efforts.

The formation of friendships and the pleasures of school life, such as sports and games, become hallmarks of the genre from the late nineteenth century. Volume V (‘Friendships and Fun’) exemplifies the enjoyable aspects of schoolgirl life that some protagonists metafictively describe reading about in school stories, but also provides examples of the way that relationships among girls can be infused with jealousy or hostility, such as in the excerpt from the 1874 Little Pansy: A Story of the School Life of a Minister’s Orphan Daughter. Louise Mack’s Teens: A Story of Australian Schoolgirls (1897), which is reproduced in full, is regarded as the first Australian school novel and focuses on the development, and testing, of a strong friendship between high-school girls Lennie and Mabel.

The collection’s final volume ( ‘Higher Education and Women’s Rights’) demonstrates how the genre presented debates about women’s suffrage and higher education to a girl readership. The college story replicated many school-story conventions, but also grappled with questions of family and public opposition to university education for women. This volume includes the complete novel, An American Girl, and Her Four Years in a Boys’ College (1878) by Olive San Louie Anderson, a member of the first class of female students at the University of Michigan. As the genre was more prominent in the United States, two American college short stories are also reproduced, as well as extracts from a British example, L. T. Meade’s A Sweet Girl Graduate (1891). School stories by their nature were largely supportive of girls’ education but, nevertheless, in some of the extracts selected for this volume, they show ambivalence about issues such as women’s suffrage.

By making readily available materials which are currently very difficult for scholars, researchers, and students across the globe to locate and use, Girls’ School Stories in English, 1749–1929 is a veritable treasure-trove. The gathered works are reproduced in facsimile, giving users a strong sense of immediacy to the texts and permitting citation to the original pagination. Each volume is also supplemented by substantial introductions, newly written by the editors, which contextualize the material. And with a detailed appendix providing data on the provenance of the gathered works, the collection is destined to be welcomed as a vital reference and research resource.

Empire in British Girls' Literature and Culture: Imperial Girls, 1880-1915 is the first book-length study of girlhood and empire in Victorian and Edwardian print culture. Redressing the neglect of popular girls' texts, it relates the emergence of fictional girl adventurers, castaways and 'ripping' schoolgirls to the British Empire. It provides both a new perspective on familiar girls' literature, such as the Girl's Own Paper and the novels of E. Nesbit and Frances Hodgson Burnett, and the first detailed examination of lesser known fiction, such as girls' robinsonades, the novels of Bessie Marchant and Angela Brazil, and the first Girl Guide Handbook. This book shows how imperial concerns not only informed the way in which girls were imagined as mothers and civilisers at home in Britain, but also as colonial settlers, nurses and explorers, on whom the very future of the Empire depended.

The Gothic has become a dominant mode in children’s and young adult fiction published in the past decade.  Gothic children’s literature displaces the anxieties that ordinarily accompany the representation of child death in realist fiction. In this chapter, I consider how dead or ghostly children in contemporary Gothic children’s literature interact with history by rewriting past wrongs and restoring order. The texts that I examine, Sonya Hartnett’s The Ghost’s Child (2007), Chris Priestley’s Uncle Montague’s Tales of Terror (2007), Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book (2008), and Ransom Riggs’ Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children (2011), all represent spectral children who, in diverse ways, work to critique or remedy adult actions. These fictions for young people are, I suggest, distinctly different from contemporary Gothic fictions for adults, which often represent children as the bearers of death.

In Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, children of the 1940s who possess supernatural powers work with the sixteen-year-old protagonist from the present to stave off the “wights” and “hollowgasts” who seek to devour them. These humanoid and monstrous forms respectively were born out of the unnatural desire of adults for immortality. A human secret society is at the root of evil, including the attempted murder of the child protagonist, Nobody Owens, in The Graveyard Book. Nobody is raised by ghosts who protect him from the society and teach him the supernatural abilities of haunting, fading, and dream walking. Yet the children in Uncle Montague’s Tales of Terror cannot be saved, becoming “shadow children” because they are not sufficiently protected, or are lead astray, by adults. While The Ghost Child is a clear example of the redeeming and transformative power of a spectral child for an elderly protagonist confronting death.

Nineteenth-century British children’s literature set in Australia and New Zealand fixates on the dangers of colonial environments. This chapter examines four British novels of the period, observing the ways in which they manifest elements of ecological imperialism and environmental racism in order to depict successful settlement. It compares these novels with fantasy fictions by Australian and New Zealand children’s authors that constitute more complicated attempts both to understand and co-exist with the natural environment. The chapter proposes that by the 1890s earlier British anxieties had dissipated in popular Australian and New Zealand fiction, in which child protagonists were newly charged with the ability to interpret and control nature.

As Australia moved toward Federation in 1901, educators sought out locally produced school materials to counter dissatisfaction with Irish and British readers that were not created specifically for Australian children. From 1896, in the state of Victoria, a periodical was produced for all schoolchildren. Essentially, the content of the School Papers replicated that of popular British magazines intended largely for single-sex readerships, drawing together selections of poetry, short fiction, illustrations, and non-fiction informational articles. Unlike British magazines that needed to maintain their appeal to child readers and parents to ensure continued sales, however, the monthly School Paper, which was published in different editions for the various school year levels, was compulsory reading for all children who attended school.
The periodical format of the School Paper enabled repetition of important themes and topics in the course of each school year and throughout the duration of each child’s education, making it a unique example of the pedagogic potential of serial reading. Moreover, it is an example of how repetition across serial texts can facilitate the growth of nationalism. To interrogate this interrelationship, this chapter adopts Greg Urban's theory of metaculture, specifically his argument about the circulation of discourse that explains how repeated acts of reading can instill imagined communal identifications.
The repetitive potential of the periodical form was harnessed by the School Paper in an attempt to fashion a standardized model of Australian identity, consumed by all Victorian children, especially as Australia was federated and more compellingly evident throughout World War I. Rather than gradual progress toward an increasingly nationalistic viewpoint, however, the School Paper articulates a shifting coexistence of narratives of belonging to both the British Empire and the nation. This essay charts the evolving competitive and dependent relationship between these identifications within the Paper from its origins to the close of the War, while exploring the impact of the repetitive reading of state-sanctioned articles, poems, and stories in their construction and circulation.

The vast majority of novels and periodicals read by colonial Australian girls were written and published in Britain. ‘Daughters of the Southern Cross’ were more likely to have access to the Girl’s Own Paper by subscription or to imported fictions that had proven popular with British girl readers than any locally produced depictions of girlhood. From the 1880s, however, Australian authors produced several milestone fictions of girlhood for both adult and juvenile audiences. Rosa Praed's An Australian Heroine (1880) and Catherine Martin’s An Australian Girl (1890)  gave voice to the lived experience of Australia for young women, and their publication in Britain contributed to an emergent reciprocal transpacific flow of literary culture.

Two canonical Australian novels that focus on the maturation of girl protagonists who live on bush homesteads were also published in this period. Ethel Turner’s Seven Little Australians (1894) and Miles Franklin’s My Brilliant Career (1901) feature intelligent girls who are not able to be effectively socialised to embrace domesticity. Turner’s Judy Woolcot is distinct among her six siblings as a plucky girl who instigates trouble, while Franklin’s aspiring writer Sybylla Melvyn is informed that ‘girls are the helplessest, uselessest, troublesomest little creatures in the world.’

The 1890s saw an agricultural depression in Australia that only fuelled the urban perpet-uation of the idealised and nationalistic bushman myth in literary and popular culture. The ubiquity of the myth problematised any attempt to situate women heroically within the nation outside of the home. British fictional imaginings of Australian girls lauded their lack of conformity and physical abilities and often showed them bravely defending the family property with firearms. In contrast, Australian domestic fiction, this chapter argues, is unable to accommodate bracing female heroism, postulating ambiguous outcomes at best for heroines who deviate from the feminine ideal.

Judy’s grandmother describes her ‘restless fire’ as something that ‘would either make a noble, daring, brilliant woman of her’, or ‘would flame up higher and higher and consume her’. Turner does not allow Judy’s unconventionality to prosper. Instead, she is killed by a falling gum tree while saving the life of her brother, leaving the future fulfilment of the domestic ideal to her sister, Meg, whose subsequent story occupies Little Mother Meg (1902). Franklin’s Sybylla expresses her inability to be content with the simple pleasures of keeping a home, and this informs her decision to reject a marriage proposal from a wealthy suitor. The novel’s indeterminate conclusion does not allow fulfilment of Sybylla’s writing aspirations, situating her outside the feminine ideal yet not affirming the merits of her desire to reject married life.

While Sharyn Pearce suggests that Judy’s tragic end follows a narrative pattern that sup-ports the glorification of male heroes and renders ‘over-reaching women’ as ‘noble failures’, the novel might also productively be read within the context of other fictions featuring girl protagonists of the period, such as Praed and Martin's novels. This chapter makes the case that Turner and Franklin’s thwarted heroines critique the containment of Australian girls to the banalities of the home by exposing the negative and uncertain outcomes for those who desire the freedoms and aspirations permitted to boys and men. Unlike British fictions that champion adventurous girls, these Australian fictions critique the continuation of gendered restrictions in the colonies by proposing that girls who desire excitement and independence ‘should have been…boy[s]’ (as Sybylla’s mother remarks).

The Parthenon is a unique example of a colonial Australian magazine published for girl readers by two aspirant writers, Ethel and Lilian Turner. In addition to its domestic content, typical of women's magazines, it also sought to contribute to nascent Australian literary culture. This article locates the Parthenon within the history of colonial women's publishing and literary culture, and situates its content within the context of the Woman Movement of the period. It reads the Parthenon's telling picture of young women's perceptions of colonial literary culture and of the need to balance literary aspirations with domestic responsibilities through the lens of the “expediency feminism” advocated by the Dawn, a women's magazine published by Louisa Lawson from 1888. The article argues that the Parthenon's superficially conservative opinion of women's supreme calling being in the home rather than the newspaper office or university library was in alignment with the arguments made by the Woman Movement to advocate for women's greater participation in the public sphere. The comparison of these contemporaneous monthly publications written and produced by women enables an understanding of the ways in which late nineteenth-century attempts to encourage women's careers and independence were grounded in domesticity.

The HBO television series True Blood is an example of the postmodern Gothic in which the opposition between good and evil is collapsed. A lack of faith in metanarratives manifests in the most marginal of voices, that of the vampire, becoming valid, and in the upending of traditional structures of authority, such as religion. This chapter examines the ways in which the line between the vampire and the human, emblematic of racial and sexual difference, is blurred in the series. True Blood does not evoke anxiety about the dissolution of boundaries, as in canonical Gothic fictions. Instead, the series acknowledges that the flaws and evils of humans are an equal match for those evidenced by vampires.

This chapter considers the impact of both the eighteenth-century “female Crusoe” and the nineteenth-century adaptation of the Robinsonade for children in order to compare how the genre was later transformed specifically for girl readers. Close reading of the serial “Robina Crusoe” (1882-1883) in The Girl’s Own Paper, L.T. Meade’s Four on an Island (1892) and Mrs George Corbett’s Little Miss Robinson Crusoe (1898) show that girl Crusoes displayed appropriate Victorian femininity but were able to move beyond the domestic not only because their survival was contingent upon their ability to do so but also to take pleasure in the exploration of uncultivated environments. Girl Crusoes actively seek adventure, have the capacity for self-defence and, as a result of these unique qualities, constitute the core of these texts rather than inhabiting their periphery as did female characters in mid-nineteenth century children’s Robinsonades. 

This paper situates the emergence of a juvenile version of the “female Crusoe” in British girls’ fiction within the context of the “new girlhood” of the late-Victorian period. It argues that the “girl Crusoe” was emblematic of women’s participation in late-nineteenth century imperial expansion and was fostered by a developing girls’ culture, which sought literary heroines who were independent and adventurous. The article contends that the appearance of the “girl Crusoe” coincided with the promotion of a civilising function for women in the British Empire, one that is commonly enacted by this literary figure in her interactions with indigenous inhabitants. Whether she is gun-toting or somewhat dependent on male assistance, the freedom afforded to the girl Crusoe in her temporary or permanent settlement may be contained by the way in which she channels her abilities into bringing British ways, particularly religion, to the “natives”.


The origins of the late-Victorian figure rest more than a century earlier in a handful of “female Crusoe” novels written in English. Unca Eliza Winkfield’s The Female American (1767) and Charles Dibdin’s Hannah Hewit, or The Female Crusoe (1792) demonstrate how the Robinsonade was initially adapted to accommodate female protagonists. The heroines of these two novels are marked out as “uncommon” for their competence in the outdoors, particularly in the case of the Native American Unca, and for their eventual settlement on the islands on which they are reluctantly cast away. Both novels serve as a point of comparison to the industrious but “ordinary” girl Crusoe who actively seeks adventure and an unfettered space in which she may live the fantasy of girlhood unrestricted by domestic norms.

One of the most significant transformations in the Robinsonade was its popularisation for an expanding juvenile readership in the nineteenth century. Johann D. Wyss’s The Swiss Family Robinson (1814 English translation) inspired countless imitators, many of which, like Wyss’s novel, relegated women to domestic chores. Catherine Parr Traill’s Canadian Crusoes: A Tale of the Rice Lake Plains (1852) relocates the conventions of the genre to a colonial frontier setting. Traill’s girl protagonist, like the minor female figures in boys’ novels, is associated with domestic competency and is incapable of survival without male assistance. These children’s novels show the unique nature and historical specificity of the late-nineteenth century girl Crusoe who, in comparison with earlier juvenile examples, is physically and mentally strong enough to survive independently and to form the centre of these narratives.

Informed by ecocriticism, this article conducts a comparative examination of two contemporary animated children’s films, Princess Mononoke (1997) and Fern Gully (1992). While both films advocate for the prevention of deforestation, they are, to
varying degrees, antithetical to environmentalism. Both films reject the principles of deep ecology in displacing responsibility for environmental destruction on to ‘supernatural’ forces and exhibit anthropocentric concern for the survival of humans.We argue that these films constitute divergent methodological approaches for environmental consciousness-raising in children’s entertainment. The western world production demonstrates marked conservatism in its depiction of identity politics and
‘cute’ feminization of nature, while Hayao Miyazaki’s film renders nature sublime and invokes complex socio-cultural differences. Against FernGully’s ‘othering’ of working-class and queer characters, we posit that Princess Mononoke is decidedly queer, anti-binary and ideologically bi-partisan and, in accord with the underlying principle of environmental justice, asks child audiences to consider compassion for the poor in association with care for nature

Under Charles Peters’ editorship until his death in 1907, the Girl’s Own Paper (1880-1956) reflected and responded to its readers’ needs for practical information about employment opportunities. Articles like “On Earning One’s Living,” “Female Clerks and Book-Keepers,” and “Nursing as a Profession” all appeared in the magazine’s first year. The Correspondence sections likewise discussed issues of employment. In response to her letter, “Isolated Hetty,” for example, is asked whether her elderly relatives would be inconvenienced by her seeking employment and, if not, she is advised “to apply to some hospital for nursing” and directed towards other numbers of the GOP, where “much has been said about” nursing as a profession. Alongside these informational articles and advice columns were fictional stories depicting working girls in their struggles to support themselves and their families while also remaining virtuous and pure. Despite this overt support for working girls, however, the popular Girl’s Own Paper contains a curious ambivalence towards girls’ employment. Although it was ostensibly targeted towards working- and lower middle-class girls – most of whom would have worked – the GOP reinforces a traditional feminine ideal discouraging middle-class girls from working outside the home, while also reaffirming the necessity for working-class girls to earn income through paid labour.

E. NESbIT'S Psammead trilogy, Five Children and It (1902), The Phoenix and the Carpet (1904), and The Story of the Amulet (1906),1 maintains considerable cultural currency via Puffin reprints, bbC tele-vision adaptations, and a 2005 feature film of Five Children and It. by ...