What a surprise this book is. I bought it, I think in London, back when I first became fascinated with finding out about different types of children's books - old books, books from different countries etc. But before ever I got to read it, I had become frustrated by the number of books all competing for attention, so I had returned to reading just the most interesting, regardless of where or when.

So this title has remained on my shelf, constantly pushed back in favour of other books, for quite some years now. But I'm so glad I got to it in the end. It is so easy and fascinating to read - the imagination it presents reminds me very much of the fairies Mum grew up with in her garden. For a time I thought it was going to become rather like Narnia, and I suppose it is in a way, but the resemblance is fleeting.

If there is disappointment, it is that the fantasy does become overt. Like Cornelia Funke, I personally feel that Mrs Molesworth is at her best when everything is mystery, and could possibly be explained somehow. The tension and the possibility are wonderful. Once she commits herself fully to the fantasy elements, her attempts to describe the fantastic fall a little flat. In the story, Godmother admonishes the children not to try to answer all questions, because puzzlement is half the fun. Perhaps Mrs Molesworth should have listened to Godmother!

But it was a lovely step back in time, and it was surprising to see how easy to read it was. ( )