William Mayne

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Penelope Farmer

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William Mayne is one of the most considerable, and certainly in some respects the most interesting writer for children now and [A Game of Dark] is undoubtedly his best book. Less rich and localized in its fantasy than Earthfasts; less rich in human terms than Ravensgill; not as affectionately funny as A Swarm in May, it is still all those things in a highly concentrated and synthesized form, besides demonstrating Mayne's recurring obsession with mysterious family pasts and relationships. And it goes far deeper than any of the others.

Mayne's sheer brillíance has always been one of his drawbacks as a writer. Some of his books could almost be described as cons—marvellous writing concealing the fact that they are uncontrolled, perverse, peripheral, even one dimensional in human terms (all those patient, understanding mothers…). But here he goes straight to the centre, shirking nothing. There are no tricks, no verbal fireworks. It is pared down, precise, plain, using images sparingly, highly economical in form, yet possessing an extraordinary translucence and clarity. It has however drawn upon itself the most surprising and unprecedented abuse culminating in the accusation that Mayne is working out his hangups on adolescents—as if most hangups weren't conceived in childhood and first encountered in adolescence anyway. His, in all events, are beside the point and to say the least it would be impertinent to speculate.

The hangups in the book relate to Donald's family: his cool, priggish, teacher mother who forgets and calls him Jackson at home; his dying minister father and his own ambivalent feelings towards both of them—his horror at his father's illness, his guilt at his lack of felt love. The problems here are intensified maybe, but they seem to me central to adolescence; what we feel—or don't feel—about our families, once we cease to take them for granted, the guilt aroused by our ambivalence. We are a guilt ridden, depressive society, and perhaps, underlying the declared concern for the young in the cries of hate against this book, is a reluctance by many to look at such aspects of themselves. (pp. 37-8)

It is still not an easy or comfortable book. I would not expect it to reach many adolescents (but that does not mean it should not be offered them; to a few it may say a lot). Nor do I think it is flawless. The railcrash is slightly melodramatic. The whole ending is not quite right—you grasp momentarily what it says and feels, and then lose both. But on any reckoning it is important and considerable. (p. 38)

Penelope Farmer, in Children's literature in education (© 1973, Agathon Press, Inc.; reprinted by permission of the publisher), No. 11 (May), 1973.

Like another vast and splendid feu d'artifice the poetic prose of William Mayne delights the mind with its subtle glowing lights [in The Jersey Shore]. First here, then there, then somewhere else unexpectedly so that the eye strains to make out the pattern the picture surely comes into being. As it slowly develops and the dark spaces are filled in with brightly coloured patches and luminous lines the full picture appears and lo and behold everything has fallen into place and the old magic has worked once more. We applaud the virtuosity and store away another warm memory. The Jersey Shore is just such a book, and when the last chapter has added its final touches we grasp the whole composed of tantalising details, the significance of which all but escaped us at first reading…. This is a deeply satisfying book for that rare bird, the sensitive, adolescent reader…. (p. 280)

The Junior Bookshelf, August, 1973.

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William Mayne's Country of the Mind

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On the Littoral: William Mayne's 'The Jersey Shore'