I was one of those weird children that learnt to read at a young age. At three I was already fully submerged in reading the books at my play-group, pondering over the words, as my Mum has told me. I devoured the Peter and Jane books along with The Very Hungry Caterpillar and The Elephant and The Bad Baby before working my way to The Waterbabies (which still strikes my imagination today). The point of this is that I remember every one of those books with a tender recollection, the same way one might think of a childhood friend. Each story was an adventure in itself, and this was before I’d even discovered Narnia, Mrs. Pepperpot, Hogwarts, Hobbits, Malory Towers or even Green Gables, before I’d glanced at a classic, fallen in love with Mr. Darcy, or even read about love. I have fond memories of Mum reading out-loud text that ranges from Tennyson’s The Lady of Shalott to Roald Dahl’s Danny The Champion Of The World and regardless of the sophistication of the writing or the intended audience, each is a treasured memory.
Books like these leave a literary imprint on who you are and, in my belief, your reading habits forever. So when I stumbled across a new book series called “BabyLit” where youngsters are introduced to Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet) and our Jane (Pride and Prejudice) early I just about died with joy. It also helps that the cover is Squee-Worthy.