Matilda was my favourite character when I was growing up – she still might be. I remember adoring this book from page one, and – anyone who knows me now will be shocked to hear this because I’m renowned for keeping my books in pristine condition – I read it so many times that the book fell apart. However, I didn’t realise until this year that she was introduced to the world just a few days before I was. As we both turn 30, I wanted to think about how this book influenced me, and hear from others about the characters that had a big impact on them.
I would have loved reading without Matilda – I had read many books by the time I found her, including The BFG which was my way-in to the wonderful world of Roald Dahl. When I started school my teacher apparently nodded in a “we’ll see” kind of way when my parents told her I could read, but when she discovered that this was, in fact, true (and probably that it was the best – or only – way to keep me quiet) I soon became the little book monster, devouring anything I was given. But before Matilda, I have no memories of going to the library. I know that I did, because when I read Matilda I already had a library card, but my earliest memories of the library are with her in mind – the wonder of walking into a room that had so many books, taking out as many as I could, making difficult decisions about which to take and which to leave behind. When I was about 11 our local library closed for a refurbishment – and a restock. When it reopened I took out the maximum 6 books on my own card, 6 on my brother’s, and 12 on my mum’s (dad must not have had a card otherwise I would have had 12 more). I made a ‘den’ under my loft bed, made the all-important decision about order of reading, and pretended I was Matilda until school started a couple of weeks later. Looking back, I think I half-pretend-played that I was Matilda, and half that she was my friend, wondering whether she would have borrowed the same books as me (I’m sure she would have loved The Babysitters Club…) and thinking that if she did come to my school we could ask her to come and live with us.
In her early life, Matilda was different from the people around her, and who she was was not encouraged. Thankfully I did not have that experience. But I have experienced times when I’ve felt that I’m not who people want me to be, and when I’ve been very lonely. One example that has stuck with me: two or three times when I was 9-10 years old, my friends suddenly fell out with me and I didn’t know why. I just turned up at school one morning and no one was talking to me. By this stage everyone has their set groups of friends and whilst the advice given to me was to “find someone else to play with”, that’s easier said than done when you feel like no one likes you. I have no idea how long this went on for before they (equally spontaneously) started talking to me again – at the time it felt like forever, it may have only been a week. But it had a lasting impact on how I think other people see me, and I’ve often felt like I have to earn people’s time and affection when I don’t – something I’ve been able to reflect on during my psychology training. Even though these kind of experiences (as well as far worse ones I know I’ve been lucky enough not to live through personally) can make you feel that you aren’t good enough, I had messages from other places telling me I was. My parents, my faith, my teachers, and some of my books. What children are told from a young age is so important, and most of the time we don’t remember being explicitly told it. I don’t know how much of an impact Matilda actually had on me in amongst everything else, but I do know that I would recommend it to any child in a heartbeat in the hope that from it they would hear this: be who you are, and make use of your gifts. No one else is quite like you, and you are so special.
The Read to Recovery 