Those of you who have a wider experience of Roald Dahl's catalogue will be well aware of the darker side of his humour and his penchant for dishing out extreme forms of moral justice. His adult books not only contain devilish twists of plot but equally cruel twists of the knife when meting out retribution to transgressors. Dahl is no purveyor of half measures when it comes to dealing with the wicked, the weak and those who need to be taught a lesson. It is therefore not surprising and initially just a little unsettling when we see the dark side of Dahl in the sunlit flower garden of children's literature. This is normally a safe and very moral world where the great and good behave as they should, with impeccable moral correctness. Even in their dealings with wickedness and downright evil, the heroes are always capable of righteous and commendable compassion for the fallen villains. Frodo felt pity for Gollum at the very Cracks of Doom; Dorothy harboured no ill feeling toward the Wicked Witch of the East (or was it West?). But those are the rules that govern the worlds of Faeries, flying snowmen and cowardly lions. Roald Dahl's rules are designed to put the world to rights in the eyes of children and have a lot of wicked fun on the way. Most young kids have a well developed sense of justice and know what 'fair' and 'not fair' means, but if they were given the freedom to prosecute that justice we would truly be in a scary dark age. But in the context of imaginative fiction it is perfectly safe to indulge themselves, after all nobody really gets hurt, do they? Instead of judging Dahl it is probably a much better idea to cut him some slack, relax and enjoy the wicked fun. Some bad stuff is going to happen to people but us kids aren't stupid and we know it's only
make believe.
And so we come at last to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, one of Roald Dahl's most richly imaginative stories that barely conceals a few moral lessons and dire warnings for children and adults alike.
For the first time in a decade, Willy Wonka, the reclusive and eccentric chocolate maker, is opening his doors to the public. In reality this is not quite true because, to be exact only five very lucky members of the public will gain access. The lucky five who find a Golden Ticket in their Wonka chocolate bars will receive a private tour of the factory, given by Mr. Willy Wonka himself. For young Charlie Bucket, this is a dream come true. And, when he finds a dollar bill in the street, he can't help but buy two Wonka's Whipple-Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delights, even though his impoverished family could certainly use the extra dollar for food. This is a gloriously protracted few moments of unbearable suspense for children and Dahl milks it for all it is worth with ill concealed glee. Charlie carefully unwraps the first bar in a veritable seizure of nervous tension only to have his hopes dashed as it reveals nothing but chocolate. But as Charlie unwraps the second chocolate bar, he sees……. the glimmer of gold just under the wrapper! The very next day, Charlie, along with his unworthy, spoilt and variously brattish fellow winners Mike Teavee, Veruca Salt, Violet Beauregarde, and Augustus Gloop, steps through the factory gates to discover whether or not the rumours surrounding the Chocolate Factory and its mysterious owner are true. What they find is that the gossip can't compare to the extraordinary truth, and for Charlie, life will never be the same again.
From the moment they enter the factory with their doting and awful parents, the four kids from hell are doomed by their own greed. And the genial agent of that doom is none other than the whacky and somewhat sinister Willy Wonka (aka Roald Dahl). Mike Teavee, the media obsessed kid from hell who would be labelled ADHD nowadays, has his fondest wish fulfilled with dire side effects. Augustus Gloop, the fat kid (Dahl appeared to have a thing about fat kids) is literally consumed and absorbed by his addiction to chocolate. Violet Beauregarde is wonderfully inflated by her own greed. And as for Veruca Salt, let Dahl's wicked rhyme describe her demise: (at risk of spoiling)
"Veruca Salt, the little brute, Has just gone down the garbage chute, (And as we very rightly thought That in a case like this we ought To see the thing completely through, We've polished off her parents, too.) Down goes Veruca! Down the drain! And here, perhaps, we should explain That she will meet, as she descends, A rather different set of friends To those that she has left behind- These won't be nearly so refined. A fish head, for example, cut This morning from a halibut. 'Hello! Good morning! How d'you do? How nice to meet you! How are you?' And then a little further down A mass of others gather round: A bacon rind, some rancid lard, A loaf of bread gone stale and hard, A steak that nobody could chew, An oyster from an oyster stew, Some liverwurst so old and grey One smelled it from a mile away, A rotten nut, a reeky pear, A thing the cat left on the stair, And lots of other things as well, Each with a rather horrid smell. These are Veruca's new found friends That she will meet as she descends, And this is the price she has to pay For going so very far astray. But now, my dears, we think you might Be wondering-is it really right That every single bit of blame And all the scolding and the shame Should fall upon Veruca Salt? Is she the only one at fault? For though she's spoiled, and dreadfully so, A girl can't spoil herself, you know. Who spoiled her, then? Ah, who indeed? Who pandered to her every need? Who turned her into such a brat? Who are the culprits? Who did that? Alas! You needn't look so far To find out who these sinners are. They are (and this is very sad) Her loving parents, MUM and DAD. And that is why we're glad they fell Into the garbage chute as well.
So it becomes obvious that Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory is like a gigantic and complicated Venus fly trap for spoilt kids who are used to getting everything they ask for from their misguided parents. With the aid of his trusty band of Oompah Loompahs Mr Wonka ensures that their fate is sealed from the moment they enter the building. And throughout the book, we know in our heart of hearts (both grown ups and children) that good old Charlie and his Grandpa will prevail. For Charlie is far from spoilt, in his young life he has known nothing but poverty and hardship, he is a latter day Tiny Tim, son of Bob Cratchit. Dahl skilfully sets the scene early in the book when he describes the home life of the extended Bucket family. We have four grandparents sharing a bed for warmth, all cheerful despite extreme poverty. And Charlie Bucket himself, small and undernourished but with a big heart and a generous nature. A little chap who will share his last piece of mouth watering chocolate with a hungry relative. You just know he is a winner from the start, and don't worry kids, Mr Dahl will not let you down.
Now back to the people who really count, the kids who are going to read or listen to this fantastic story. They will love the sweets, as Grandpa Joe said:
"Mr Willy Wonka can make marshmallows that taste of violets, and rich caramels that change colour every ten seconds as you suck them, and little feathery sweets that melt away deliciously the moment you put them between your lips. He can make chewing-gum that never loses its taste, and sugar balloons that you can blow up to enormous sizes before you pop them with a pin and gobble them up. And, by a most secret method, he can make lovely blue birds' eggs with black spots on them, and when you put one of these in your mouth, it gradually gets smaller and smaller until suddenly there is nothing left except a tiny little DARK RED sugary baby bird sitting on the tip of your tongue."
You ought to see children's faces when they hear such literary confectionery. They can taste the text and nobody can make things taste better than Roald Dahl (or should I say Mr Willy Wonka).
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is one of the most satisfying and inconspicuously moral examples of children's literature that I have ever encountered. More than anything else, it is delicious fun for kids and adults alike.
You can pop a Puffin edition into a Christmas stocking for as little as £6.99 (with the great bonus of wonderful illustrations). Have fun
How helpful would this review be to a person making a buying decision? Rating guidelines
exceptional by (18%):
very helpful by (78%):
helpful by (4%):
