.. or blustery days if you’ve been brought up in the UK. Shirley Hughes’ Lucy and Tom at the Seaside is now out of print; so, as winter looms in OZ and the UK spring is – apparently – a month late, here are some sunny spreads from our Lucy and Tom…
Lucy and Tom at the Seaside is my favourite Shirley Hughes book; I like it even more than Dogger, or Alfie Gets in First, and that’s high praise. Hughes’ joy in human eccentricity, character, posture and movement, and in the quirks of British family life, as well as skill in creating an authentic sense of place – all come together most beautifully in this book. Here’s the beach when the family arrive (click to enlarge, though the scan is not perfect as our copy of this book is a rather battered miniature version):
My response to Lucy and Tom at the Seaside is of course very personal. I remember British beaches: wobbly windbreaks; sandy egg sandwiches; sharp rocks, and having to lie flat against the sand, wound tightly in a woollen rug, so as to get properly warm. On the plus side, the jellyfish are harmless.
Below is my favourite image, where Lucy and Tom climb the dunes and, finally, the sea stretches before them. Lucy has been wearing her armbands during the long journey to the beach “so as to be all ready to swim when they get there” – and here is the sea, “much, much bigger than either Lucy or Tom had ever remembered.”
The body language of the two children in the picture above is beautiful, as it is in the picture below: Lucy, now faced with the vast sea and crashing waves, hugs her dad’s leg for reassurance; Tom, younger and more impulsive, dances excitedly – he wants to run in RIGHT NOW.
And here’s everyone getting changed under their towels! Our proper beach holidays were spent with family in the quaint channel island of Guernsey. Even in the 70′s, Guernsey folk had a solution to the towel problem: large, soft bath towels were sewn down one side to make a tube, and elastic threaded along the top. This gave us each a cosy, secure space to change under. I don’t know why no-one else seems to have thought of this, especially in Australia – where beach culture is surprisingly modest and the change rooms oddly smelly.
Here are some more illustrations. The stoic, partially entombed, father:
Lucy and Tom collect treasures in a rockpool:
And Tom finds a crab claw to brandish at his giggling sister:
The light, as they leave at the end of the day, is perfect:
What makes Lucy and Tom at the Beach one of, I think, the best picture books ever is Hughes’ empathy, particularly for children; everyone can find something to relate to in this book. Its illustrations are works of art – the light and atmosphere and detail beautifully realised. The only minor flaw (for me) is that the father doesn’t seem to be as well rounded as the other characters – his face and body language are not so expressive – but the book is not about him after all. All the experiences are ideal too: there’s donkey rides, swimming, games, drawing, teasing, ice cream, and even a ‘lovely chocolate cake’.
You can’t get this book new any more, but there are some second hand copies on Amazon.
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