I've been doing a fair amount of what I consider "comfort" reading these past couple weeks. Part of it is that things have happened that get me down, and so reading "grown up" books almost feels like more of an effort than I can manage. And part of it is just the normal summer doldrums I feel. I don't like July or August much at all. It's too hot. It's too humid. It doesn't rain. Every day feels like a carbon copy of the next.

So, I retreated into what are generally thought of as "children's" books for a little while. And I read three different authors - two old, old favorites from childhood, the third a newer one (but surely one I would have liked as a child).

If I were writing this as a serious essay (and actually having to worry about things like organization), I'd probably title it, "Jack, Tove, and Joanne."

Jack is C.S. Lewis. (Given name was Clive Staples, but to all his friends he was Jack. My understanding is that he didn't like the name Clive much.)

Tove is Tove Jansson. (The author of the Moomin books, for those unfamiliar)

Joanne is J.K. Rowling. (Who, if you live under a rock, wrote an enormously popular seven-book series featuring a school for wizards.)

There are similarities and yet differences between the three books. The biggest similarity - I suppose - is that they are all set in a world not like our own. One thing I notice in kid's books are the differences in technology - a lot of the very famous stories, even those written and set in modern or semi-modern times, is a lack of high-technology anything.

And you know? I kind of like that. Think of the world of the Hobbits (to bring in another famous writer). While it is very low tech, it is comfortable. (I would suspect the hobbits worked out some kind of system of privies; I cannot imagine such a comfort loving creature using a hole at the bottom of the garden or even an outhouse). People get from place to place by walking, riding a horse, or perhaps using a wagon (or a boat, if there's a waterway).

Narnia is another pre-technological type of society; in many ways it's like Middle-Earth (though perhaps a bit more grand - at least as far as castles and cities and such are concerned - than the Shire). Again, people travel using ship or wagon or horse or foot. (Or Aslan's breath, as in the book I read most recently, but that's magic, and magic doesn't count as technology).

And in the world of the Moomins, even horses seem to be out (I suppose because horses are proud creatures and would not deign to carry a round little moomin on their backs). So they use ships or walking as the main mode of transportation.

Likewise, in the wizarding world created by Rowling, technology is different. In fact, many of the things we "muggles" have invented technological solutions for, wizards seem to use magic for instead. (The thought of that delights me). Yes, the Weasleys have a car - and old, turquoise-blue Ford Anglia - but that's only because Arthur Weasley is so interested in "muggle" technology. (And besides, he has enchanted the car - it is apparently, Tardis-like, much larger on the inside than it appears, and it can fly and go invisible). But it seems that the preferred modes of travel are train, or some kind of enchanted ship. Or a carriage drawn by flying horses. Or broom, I suppose, though it seems brooms are mostly used in Quidditch.

(Perhaps brooms take some of the place of horses in their world, seeing that Quidditch is a bit like polo in spots?)

Food preparation is different as well. It seems that big old "cookers" or open fires are the order of the day (depending on whether you're nominally in our world or in Narnia). And while not a great amount of attention is paid to the obtaining of food, at least the Moomins are shown picking apples and berries and drying food for leaner times. (I suppose in Rowling's world there are wizard groceries.)

Actually, food is fairly lovingly described in all the books - the feasts at Hogwarts ("Icy cold pumpkin juice"), the food provided in Narnia, whether it is feast or even food eaten along a journey, the meals Moominmamma prepares.

In a way, all three worlds could sort of intertwine...sort of bump up against each other and it wouldn't be too discordant, at least in terms of technology and food and other aspects.

One of the main differences that I seem to see is in rules and structure. In Narnia, there are very set rules. It is basically a chivalrous society...there are certain rules of combat, certain rules of how women must be treated. Breaking those rules brings shame upon the rule-breaker, and perhaps other punishment as well.

I know the Narnia books have their detractors - Philip Pullman being a famous one - but the books were a MAJOR part of my childhood. I love them. I understand that kind of rule-bound world. (And I admit, being a rule-follower myself, I find it somewhat comforting to read about a place where rules of courtesy or fairness are not broken...not so much because of retaliation but because breaking those rules is something you simply do not do). And I will observe...I suppose having a Christian faith and worldview does make the books more enjoyable and appealing, perhaps if you reject that world view you would not like them.

The Narnia book I read most recently is The Silver Chair. It was my favorite of the Narnia books as a child, mainly because I loved Puddleglum so much. I hadn't read it for years - probably not since I was 15 or so - and I pulled it off the shelf last week and re-read it.

It's interesting - when I was a kid, it seems I read these mainly for the story and "blipped" over a lot of the symbolism. Coming back to the book as an adult, I am struck by how much is in there - from the very beginning (Aslan telling a fearful Jill that the stream is "the only stream" and that the only way to get the water she so needs is to come to it - coming near to him in the process).

And again, near the end...and this is why as an adult I still love Puddleglum. The three (Puddleglum, Eustace Scrubb, and Jill Pole - a marshwiggle and two English children) have gone deep under the Earth to search for the missing Prince of Narnia. They find him, under a deep enchantment to a woman who turns out to be a witch.

She - and this is the scariest part of the book, and I remember finding it scary as a child - takes some kind of powder she throws on the fire (it gives of a sickly-sweet smell and seems to enchant them) and starts strumming a lute repetitively, and tries to convince them that the sun, and the "Overland" (Narnia), and Aslan are just stories that they have made up in the course of their play.

And Jill and Eustace have almost gone under, and Puddleglum is getting there.

But then, Puddleglum goes over the the fire and stamps it out with his bare foot (if you have not read the book - marshwiggles are strange creatures, like tall thin humans but with webbed, "cold blooded" feet and hands - in the drawings, they look rather like frog's feet). The pain clears his head and he says to the witch:

"One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we only have dreamed, or made up, all those things - trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world all hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. That's why I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia...."

(Oh, and if you are totally unfamiliar with the books, I suppose it would help to know that Aslan is the Christ-figure in this world...he appears to the dwellers of Narnia in the form of a great lion.)

At any rate, I love that quote. It kind of sums up why Puddleglum is such a great character - despite being a wet blanket, despite being almost comically pessimistic, he is loyal and true and deep down knows what he stands for and is not afraid of risking his life to stand for it.

So Narnia has certain rules...but in a way they are more than rules, they are a structure that seems to be born into all true Narnians...there are certain things you do, and certain things you do not do, and that is just how it is.

On the other hand, Tove Jansson's "Finn Family Moomintroll" exists in a world where the rules are relatively few. And they are more flexible.

(I suppose this may reflect differences between Lewis and Jansson - Lewis was an Oxford don, had had military training, spent years in the British educational system, and Jansson was an artist, and the child of artists)

The land of the Moomins is far more Bohemian. People do things because they feel like it, they come and go at will, they drop what they are doing if they become tired of it.

The Moomin stories are, in some ways, more episodic - as if you could dip into the book at the start of any chapter and pick up the thread of what is happening.

The Moomin's adventures are mostly pleasant and sunny, and even some unpleasantness (such as being trapped on the island by a storm and being surrounded by the eerie Hattifatteners) is quickly forgotten (and Momminmamma usually has some sandwiches or something in her handbag to make conditions a bit better).

The creatures in Moominland - well, it's kind of hard to identify them to species sometimes. The Moomins - Moominpappa, Moominmamma, and Moomintroll, their son - are all the same species (in appearance, and the fact that they form a family). But the Snorks - we see the Snork Maiden, who is in love with Moomintroll, and her brother, the Snork, in this book - seem to be of the same species (they look the same as the Moomins; the Snork Maiden is only identifiable in pictures because she has a "fringe" of hair (bangs) and she usually wears a gold ankle bracelet.

Then there are the Hemulens, which are perhaps the most "adult" creatures - in that they can be bossy worriers and tend to be interested in such things as stamp collecting.

And there is Sniff, who looks a bit like a Chihuahua. And Snufkin, the wanderer, who is somewhat humanoid.

I suppose Jansson didn't set out to do a "Taxonomy of Moominland" and perhaps it's too much to concern oneself with "What species does that creature belong to" Because in some cases, there are even what appear to be cross-species marriages and odd hybridizations.

At any rate - the story is a story of one summer among the Moomins. One of the biggest happenings is the finding of the Hobgoblin's Hat, which will turn anything placed into it into something else (Moomintroll hides in it and is changed into completely another creature, to his dismay. Fortunately, the spell wears off).

The Hobgoblin is described as a creature (in the drawings he looks like an old-time magician, with his hat and cape, and he wears a long beard). He is originally presented as a somewhat frightening and uncanny creature who searches the universe for gemstones, riding on his magical black panther. He is searching for the "King's Ruby," which, unbeknownst to the Moomins, two strange little creatures (Thingummy and Bob) have in their possession.

Near the end of the book, that is revealed - and the Hobgoblin himself shows up.

And it turns out - and I think this is kind of nice for a children's book - that rather than being a horrible scary monster, he is a person who likes pancakes (the narrator notes something along the lines that someone who likes pancakes can not be so very scary). And he grants wishes. And he is merely sad that he cannot have the King's Ruby. (But even that problem is solved).

The book ends on a saddish note, or it seems a bit sad. Snufkin, who is probably Moomintroll's best friend, sets off for his annual period of wandering, leaving Moomintroll alone:

Moomintroll was left alone on the bridge. He watched Snufkin grow smaller and smaller, and at last disappear among the silver poplars and the plum trees. But after a while he heard the mouth-organ playing "All small beasts should have bows in their tails" and then he knew that his friend was happy. He waited while the music grew fainter and fainter, till at last it was quite quiet, and then he trotted back through the dewy garden.

Pardon me...I seem to have got a bit of dust in my eyes.

I don't know why but that passage makes me so much sadder as an adult than I remember it making me as a child when I read it. I suppose it's because I've experienced more loss. (And yes, Snufkin does come back the next spring).

The last of the books - which I'm not quite done with yet - is "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets." While I think Rowling's prose is simpler, and perhaps not as beautifully written as either the Lewis or the Jansson, I do think the books are good, and I do think they will likely stand the test of time.

Because they are, just plain and simple, entertaining stories. The whole idea of the wizard world - nearly invisible beside our own - is a fascinating idea, even to an adult. (One of my favorite things about the books - and about the movies they are based on as well - are all of the little differences...the different types of candy, and how photographs are different, and the fact that a book of monsters can itself BE a monster...)

I also think the books appeal to kids BECAUSE Harry is mistreated by the Dursleys. How many of us, as children, imagined that our parents were actually imposters, that we were actually princesses or princes or some wonderful thing that was forced to live with this....family....for some kind of strange reason. And how many of us, after being sent to our rooms for some minor infraction, muttered through their tears, "They'll be sorry...." and imagine how our REAL parents would come and sweep us away. (And I think that's a pretty universal feeling; even I, with as happy a childhood as I had, sometimes imagined what it would be like to be in a different, "better" family. Usually only when I HAD been sent to my room for some reason, but still).

And another thing: Rowling has received (deservedly) a lot of credit for bringing "reluctant readers" to reading. (I've seen it among children of friends). She wrote good stories that got kids involved - and the way the stories were marketed, I have to admit (the midnight sales and all) helped, I think, to build up their mystique...almost like Dickens' serializations 100+ years ago. (There is a story of passengers returning from Britain, where the next installment of "The Old Curiosity Shop" was already out, being met on the docks in America with the question, "Does Little Nell live?" It's kind of nice to see people in this day and age get that kind of excitement about a book).

Another thing I like about the books are the names. Rowling is almost as good as Dickens about giving things and people evocative names....Gringott's Bank, Draco Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore....it helps enhance the "otherness" of the wizard-world. Hogwarts would not be nearly so interesting if its headmaster were named something like Tom Connolly or Henry Johnson.

So, even though I do, a lot of the time, read Big Complex Grown-Up books, I have to admit I still enjoy books that are generally branded as "Children's" books. (Though there is a quotation from C.S. Lewis, that I never can find, and never can remember exactly, but that says something about books being worth reading at 10 are still worth reading at 50, and maybe even more so.)