On what would have been Dahl’s 95 birthday, we are pleased to present this Author Spotlight by James L. (JimiJam)
Authors of children’s books are not necessarily few, nor far between. One need only consider shorter works, comprised largely of illustrations, to arrive at a list of hundreds upon hundreds of authors writing for the youngest of readers. There is certainly no shortage of authors writing lengthier tomes for children, although it seems that, of these, only a fraction find themselves elevated to an amount of noteworthy esteem. For all the tremendous authors who have written for children in years past, precious few compare to the fanciful and absurd Roald Dahl.
Born to Norwegian parents on September 13th, 1916, in Cardiff, Wales, Dahl’s early years were marked by a pair of tragedies: when he was but 3 years old, his 7 year old sister, Astri, died of appendicitis; only a few weeks later, his father also passed away, stricken with a fatal case of pneumonia. Roald’s mother decided to remain in England, rather than return to her native Norway, in hopes that England’s excellent schools would instill in her son an education that would serve him well throughout his life. Unfortunately, his time as a student was less than kind. It is no wonder he found such strong validation in Dickens’ works, whose influence can easily be observed in Dahl’s own stories. Experiences with a number of harsh headmasters, teachers, and other authority figures, would later provide inspiration for characters in his novels, such as Aunts Sponge and Spiker in James and the Giant Peach (1961), the parents of the bad children in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (1963), and, perhaps most directly, the headmistress in his later work Matilda (1988).
It’s a point of fact that Dahl often included biographical elements in his novels. As a student of the Repton School in Derbyshire, for example, the Cadbury chocolate company would use the school as a testing grounds of sorts, sending boxes of chocolates for the students to try. Perhaps as an escape from the difficulties of school life, Dahl would imagine himself a chocolatier, and dreamt of impressing Mr. Cadbury with new flavors and styles. These flights of fancy would of course go on to fuel the creation of the great Willy Wonka. Another example is his 1983 book, The Witches, in which the main character is a boy of Norwegian descent, living in England.
Before his vocation as an author could be realized, Dahl first had to contend with his calling as an airman. Having enlisted with the Royal Air Force in 1939, by the time the war had ended he had reached the rank of Wing Commander, as well as having earned the title of Fighter Ace, for having scored 5 victories in aerial combat. His 
experiences as an airman would inspire his first children’s book in 1943, titled The Gremlins, a story about the mischievous imps that would sabotage airplanes. This work, first selected by Disney, and then later by Warner Brothers, was the basis for a few Bugs Bunny cartoons, as well as the general pop-cultural awareness of the superstition, which spread and continued for years after, not only in cartoons but the infamous Twilight Zone vignette and even the 1984 film Gremlins.
Following the war, Dahl’s personal life continued the tragic trends of his childhood. He and his wife, Patricia, lost two of their children to illnesses, and in 1965 his wife herself suffered a series of aneurysms, though she did survive and manage to struggle back to good health. Dahl himself lived on as well, contributing to enrich lives through his literature, as well as numerous charitable contributions which themselves remain a lasting legacy in England and abroad. Dahl passed away on November 23rd, 1990, at the age of 74. One need not read the entirety of his bibliography to see how ever-present hardship was in his life; every one of his stories touches upon difficulties that seem insurmountable, and more often than not nearly crush the protagonists before something fanciful or surreal happens along and rescues them from their plight. Yet one need also look no further than the nearest Dahl novel at hand to find that, in his life as well as his stories, the ultimate power of goodness triumphs in the end.
I have always found Dahl’s approach to have been most exceptional, in that his narratives come from the perspective of childlike wonderment, worded not so much as a child would speak, but rather as an adult who has not lost an inch of contact with his or her inner child; often these narratives involve a vocabulary beyond that of the average speaker, and yet the phrasing and emphasis enthralls and inspires near giddiness at the concepts presented. The “storyteller” style of Dahl’s books evoke images of a wild-eyed and animated narrator, entertaining groups of children huddled ’round his feet, spinning fantastic fables with an eye for magic that only children can imagine or perceive. Yet, behind all this childish wonder and abandon lie the themes Dahl so often employed, notions quite a bit more adult than one might expect to find in a simple children’s novel. Perhaps it is that the boisterous delight is a sugar coating, and that these stories are by no means as simple as they appear. Dahl’s works are filled to the brim with moral lessons, touching upon justice, fairness, morality, karma, classism, heartbreak, abuse, neglect, and even death. To combine such mature themes with childlike wonder, and deliver them in a way that is entertaining and yet secretly contains such heartfelt and inspirational messages, elevates Dahl to the pinnacle of children’s literature.
Clearly, there is an amount of consensus on just how entertaining Dahl’s stories can be. No less than six of his
Image courtesy of www.teachingchildrenphilosophy.org
novels have been made into major motion pictures: The Witches, The BFG, James and the Giant Peach, Matilda, Fantastic Mr. Fox, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory). What’s more, dozens of his short stories have inspired productions in both the movie and television studios. He was also hired to pen a fair few screenplays, including such notable films as Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and the James Bond picture You Only Live Twice. These days, children’s stories being turned into movies is more prevalent than ever, and there are, of course, many fine children’s authors of worthy renown. But there is something singularly exquisite about Dahl’s oeuvre, and as I read it I am compelled to recall numerous volumes, written by others after his time, that harken back to his style, tone, and childlike sensibilities. From the Series of Unfortunate Events to Harry Potter, I find it difficult to think of a popular modern children’s story that doesn’t seem in some way a direct descendant of Dahl’s earlier works. While the genre of children’s literature is centuries old, and will, one hopes, continue to extend far into the future, the genre – and we as its readers – owe a great debt to the likes of Roald Dahl.
