The curmudgeonly old man is initially reluctant to accept the new arrangement, but his grand-daughter's warmth, cleverness and exuberance soon win him over, while Heidi learns to love her new surroundings and makes a new friend, Peter the goatherd.
Having been offered a job in Frankfurt, however, her aunt is forced to entrust her young charge into the care of her grandfather, the reclusive Alp-Uncle who lives in the mountains without any interaction with the villagers beneath. Orphaned at an early age, Heidi has been brought up by her mother's sister Dete in Switzerland. What better way is there to say, ‘Hey he’s not such a bad guy, really’?Įach and Every One by Rachael English is out now.Paperback. And then it came to me I would show him reading a bed-time story to his son. Needless to say, I did a great deal of head-scratching, coffee-drinking and Twitter-reading. When I was writing my new book, Each and Every One, I got to a point where I wanted to show that a character’s experiences were turning him into a more likeable person.
I know what it’s like to find solace or entertainment in a novel. It’s not just that a fondness for words has enabled me to have a career as a journalist and – more recently – to write books of my own. I’m indebted to my mum who fostered that love of reading. Heidi’s story encouraged me to discover other books – from Just William and his friends to Patricia Lynch’s tales about Brogeen the Leprechaun from Little Women to Noel Streatfeild. I can remember wanting to be part of her world. To say that a book changed your life is a big statement, but all these years later I can remember the thrill of reading Heidi. It's illustrated with black and white sketches and the occasional full-colour picture: here a rosy-cheeked Peter, there a wan and sad-eyed Clara. There remains something beautiful about it, though. It was published in 1955, and I think that ‘much loved’ would be the kindest way to describe its condition. My copy – and I still have it – originally belonged to my mum. But, more likely, it’s because I then read it by myself. Perhaps, it’s because the descriptions of Heidi’s mountain home were so enchanting. Perhaps, this is because it seemed so much more grown-up than other books.
Of course, she’d read other books, but Johanna Spyri’s story about a little girl who goes to live with her grandfather in the Swiss Alps is the one that has lodged in my brain. When I was six, my mother read Heidi to me. This post was originally published at and is now at.
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