The Borrowers Series (Books 1 & 2)

1) The Borrowers

'We are part of the House. You might as well say the fire-grate steals coal from the coal scuttle... Human beans are for Borrowers, as bread is for butter.'

This beautiful series begins when elderly Mrs May tells her young friend Kate the long but logical tale of why small household objects inexplicably disappear. They are pilfered by a hidden race of tiny people, of course, who can put them to good use. She re-tells her younger brother's story about his brief run-in with such a family, decades earlier.  

They lived beneath the floorboards of a stately British manor. There was a father, methodical Pod, the most skillful borrower of his generation, and a mother, houseproud Homily, who created a cosy home from odd scraps he'd managed to glean over the years. Their only child was Arrietty, a restless sprite of a girl who pined for the great outdoors and company her own age. But the tragedy of their niece Eggletina's demise at the claws of a cat makes Pod and Homily inclined to keep their precious daughter close. In fact traditionally girls don't 'borrow' at all. They stay home doing household chores while boys are taught to go out with their dads and learn the family survival skills. Arrietty finds that hard to swallow. 

This is one of those kids' books which is even more richly nuanced for adults. There are some gorgeous details, such as their memories of the snooty Overmantel family, who are now nowhere. In fact Homily retains a detailed social strata in her head, even though all of the other minuscule families have long since packed up and moved on, for various reasons. I love how the 'human bean' cook, Mrs Driver, and gardener, Crampfurl, surreptitiously sneak their employer's bottles of Fine Old Pale Madeira, because they trust she'll never venture downstairs and catch them red-handed. And how Pod has befriended the invalid Great Aunt Sophy herself, because he knows she never believes what she sees after her third glass.

Life changes when a nine-year-old boy (Mrs May's brother) arrives for a stay in the countryside with his great aunt, and spies the borrowers when they are taken off guard. He commences an unlikely kindred spirit relationship with Arrietty which triggers her great epiphany. Arrietty had assumed that the existence of too many giant people would take a fatal toll on the world's resources, but learns that her concept of the world had been far too limited. Of course eventual danger from the human adults is inevitable, since the boy's very presence sets everyone's predictable lifestyles off kilter.  

There is always a whimsical suspension of disbelief. We are invited by Mrs May to consider this tale a secret history rather than a fantasy, even though her brother was a tease with a brilliant imagination. It makes cool reading, as Arrietty discovers the world doesn't really revolve around little folk like themselves, as she'd always been taught. Meanwhile, Pod deplores the sudden gift of ostentatious luxuries without any real point, and Homily's weakness for grandiosity proves to be her downfall. 

There is a lovely, slightly melancholic tone provided by the passing of time that I appreciate too. I'm ready to move straight on to the next book. C. S. Lewis said, 'No book is worth reading at ten that is not worth reading even more at 50,' and he is quite right. 

2) The Borrowers Afield

'What if it were only a story, so long as it was a good story? Keep your sense of wonder, child, and don't be so literal. And anything we haven't experienced for ourselves sounds like a story.' 

Mrs May and Kate provide the framework of this tale again. When Mrs May inherits a small cottage at Leighton Buzzard, Kate goes along with her to do some sleuthing regarding the borrowers. She meets Tom Goodenough, an elderly tenant who was once the gamekeeper's young grandson. He was also the boy with the ferret who visited the day Firbank Hall was fumigated. To Kate's delight, Tom is able to continue the tale of the little Clock family where Mrs May's brother left off, for he became the next human friend of Arrietty, who told him, 'It's so awful and sad to belong to a race which no sane person believes in.'  

This is a survival tale in the great outdoors.We all know Pod, Homily and Arrietty were forced to flee their home beneath the floorboards at Firbank Hall because their cover had been busted. 'Migration' is their only option, so they seek Uncle Hendreary's badger's set in Perkin's Beck, the nearby field; a tremendous trek for them. But Hendreary's home proves to be elusive, bitter winter is approaching, and the discovery of an abandoned boot appears to be a godsend. It's a modest temporary home but they have no other choice. Pod identifies it as a gentleman's boot which mollifies Homily. She might be living in some old boot, but at least it didn't belong to riff raff (as far as she knows, but the truth will out!). I love and admire these little dudes for their gumption, ingenuity and resourcefulness. 

The highlight of this story is the introduction of Spiller, the scruffy urchin lad who helps himself to a few of their tools while they're out. Spiller represents everything Homily feared about living outdoors. 'Uncouth, unwashed, dishonest and ill-bred,' is how she describes him, for you don't 'borrow' from other borrowers. He's a product of a life spent alone in the wilderness, having brought himself up. (For any readers of Wuthering Heights, this borrower boy has strong Hareton Earnshaw vibes.) Yet the very qualities Homily deplores are those which provide his edge, enabling him to camouflage excellently and develop his field-smarts. By the end, they all benefit hugely from Spiller's acquaintance, which extends to saving their lives. He's a legend who is always in his element.

It's quite intriguing, as Arrietty wonders if enterprise and curiosity will always meet with disaster, for she seems to have both in spades. She wonders if it will really be necessary to keep a lid on it all forever. Poor Homily has her fair share of Children of Israel moments, and feels tempted to turn around and go home to Firbank Hall where she knows Mrs Driver will now be ever alert, but Pod reminds her that burning one's bridges is part of a borrower's philosophy. It's fun to see Homily adapt to the more rudimentary lifestyle to the extent of tucking into Spiller's hot meat, being super cautious not to ask him what it is!  

There is some superb nature writing from Arrietty's delightfully limited viewpoint. Yet as this book ends, her prospects appear as grimly safe as they were beneath the floor at Firbank. She's holed up again, this time in a high, narrow wall as part of an extended family, which we already sense will become strained before long. Arrietty pines for Spiller, and I don't blame her. Something will have to give, which will be the focus of the next few books. Bring them on!

Stay tuned for Books 3 & 4 (Borrowers Afloat and Aloft)

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 (for both books)