I have the title music in French on a 7".
i vaguely remember some cartoon where the bad guys were these plantmachines... one had a chainsaw thing... that shit was scary...
I Am The Cheese - utterly perplexing and confusing then, still a little weird now... and of course Cormier also wrote The Chocolate War and countless other very close to the bear / bare bones children's stories.... with complex psychosexuals and all kinds of nasty spins...
Graham Oakleys Magical Changes
this book still haunts my dreams. anyone else come across it?
"It allows the reader to create 512 different surreal pictures by mixing the top and bottom half of pages (even the original pictures are really strange). The illustrations are extremely detailed and delightful, and could be enjoyed by Primary/Elementary school-aged and up."
that book looks great, I would have loved that as a kid
that book looks great, I would have loved that as a kid
i hope you would love it now!
I like it, yeah I know exactly what you mean regarding the disparity between the richness of emotion that you can recall and the completely lacking physical thing. Infact I experienced exactly the same thing when I stumbled across a youtube video of 'World of Illusion' - a game for the sega megadrive with Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. I watched the first couple of levels and it looked so shitty and basic, and yet I remember being 6 or 7 and being amazed by it and the expansive world it implied. I hadn't seen it since then but I was immediately there.This will probably sound a bit vague but a couple of years ago at my Mum's house I found a book that I'd read many times as a kid but it took me a little while to kind of tune in to the memory of doing so but then suddenly I got this real weird flash on it, so to speak. It was just a simple little 70s paperback with pictures about some kid who goes back in time to a prehistoric era and has encounters with dinosaurs and stuff - very sparse and, don't want to say it but hauntological in that stark 70s oddness sense. Anyway as I say I had this real feeling of being transported back to the emotional charge of reading the book at the time. Oddly for me, although I'm sure this is a commonplace thing with memory, the physical book/story that I had rediscovered didn't seem to have much to do with the memory. For a while I even wondered whether the book had accompanied a TV series, because what I recalled seemed so vivid, rich and atmospheric, and nothing to do with this amatuerishly illustrated, thin half-narrative. Thinking about it now kind of makes me wonder if those kind of factors were making my imagination fill in the gaps, like...uh...prodding some kind of ontological dread at the thought of fetching up in a prehistoric swamp. I mean, even now when I think about the crosshatching on the dinosaurs I'm like "wooooah...".
The Borribles.
The Borribles.