It may say more about my middle-class values, but I found the NLT report one of the most horrifying stories of the week, in a week when torture in care homes, repression in Yemen, the gaoling of a Tory peer, and a government report placing a monetary value on trees and fields were all in the news. It suggests that millions of British children will never know the joy of opening a book for the first time, becoming enveloped by its pages, reading by torchlight under the duvet, and closing it with complete satisfaction. For them, Harry Potter, the Big Friendly Giant, Alex Rider and Horrid Henry will remain strangers.

There is of course a utilitarian argument. As a post-industrial country we can’t afford a generation which can’t read and write properly. Sending illiterate teenagers into mills, down mines, into the navy or into domestic service is no longer an option. In the modern economy, literacy is the only route to getting a rewarding job, and the only way our economy can grow. But there’s also an argument about the spiritual and intellectual wellbeing of a child. Reading is freedom. It sends the imagination racing. It is the means to stretch the boundaries of feeling and emotion. That it is being denied to so many is a disgrace. It may not be the ‘child abuse’ that Alan Bennett claimed this week, but it’s not far off.

It would be easy to blame the digital economy, but this is nonsense. A nine-year-old child (I happen to have one at home) can enjoy computer games, playing football and reading books in equal measure. Mine has spent the half-term holidays ploughing through seven Harry Potters one after the other, reading in bed until he falls asleep under the book. He’s also enjoyed FIFA 11 on the Wii and endless games of footie in the park.

Some might blame poverty. There is a link between being poor and not having books in the house. But this is cultural, not financial. A second-hand book from a charity shop is still a manageable purchase, even for the most impoverished families. Libraries still exist in most parts of the country. Schools lend their pupils books. Catalogues such as thebookpeople.com sell box sets at discount prices: for example six Beast Quests for £6.99, or 15 Roald Dahls for £15.99, which means Matilda, Willy Wonka, George’s Marvellous Medicine, and Danny, the Champion of the World can be yours for a little over a pound per book. If adults want their children to have books, they can. The saddest aspect of the NLT report is that the millions of children without books are also without a mother, father, uncle or aunt to give them a book. Without getting all Daily Mail, it plainly is the fault of the parents if children have no books, but then the parents are unlikely to have well-stocked shelves either.

Book buying, collecting and reading is one of life’s greatest pleasures. From an early age, I was scouring church jumble sales for Pan edition James Bonds (at 10p each), Sherlock Holmes or Arthur Bryant histories. When I moved to London, I would spend hours along the Charing Cross Road at Quinto or Any Amount of Books, picking up second-hand history and politics books. On Saturdays it was the Amnesty bookshop on King Street, Hammersmith, My Back Pages in Balham, Copperfields in Wimbledon, Judd Books in King’s Cross, or the Gloucester Road bookshop. Early editions of William Morris, RH Tawney, GDH Cole, Harold Laski and the Webbs could be picked up for a song. Book collectors live for the ‘find’ – a book long sought-after to make up a set, a signed edition, or a valuable book hidden among the cheap ones. I love finding a book with a postcard or letter among the pages, unread for 70 or 80 years, or a plate denoting that this book was a school prize awarded to Nina Goodwin in 1923. I am pathologically incapable of walking past an Oxfam bookshop without going in.

The middle classes have long understood the causal link between books in the home, and academic and material success. Access to dictionaries, encyclopaedias and atlases confers immediate advantage when it comes to homework or revision. Knowledge of literature, history and science gleaned from books makes a child more likely to be able to use the vast resources of the internet in an intelligent and creative way.

The National Literacy Trust has done us a great service by pointing out this national shame. It may not have grabbed us by the lapels in quite the same way as Panorama’s undercover cameramen, or the war correspondents in Hasaba or Taiz, but it should be of equal concern to ministers and their shadows. Anyone seeking to make our citizens more socially mobile should start with books in the home.

 


 

Photo: covs97