Pure Reviews
I read through Edward Pureheart this morning and I think it’s a really wonderful achievement. The writing is delightful and I love the concept of Forever Children. And as a parent of a forever child, the book is…well, I was going to say it’s an emotional rollercoaster, but perhaps an emotional carousel would be more appropriate! It brings up a lot of the same experiences, worries and fears that we parents must all have for our children, so it’s hard to read the book without a tear (or lots of tears) in one’s eye.
I like that it aims at giving some emotional meaning and advice to the intended audience of forever children, without being too didactic or clumsy. I see it as more like trying to hold their hand through some of their own experiences and fears, helping to make sense of things that must often seem senseless.
As to whether it hits that target audience – yes and no. That’s not a criticism – it’s simply that it would depend upon the individual. For instance, our James would not be able to understand the book at all and wouldn’t have the patience or interest to listen to it, but that’s purely because of his learning level. Others will no doubt be at the right level for it and I hope (and assume) some of those on the CHD2 group will fit that, since there is of course a variety of levels of ability. I actually think there is an opportunity for a second Edward Pureheart book, a more simplified version aimed at those who maybe understand at the level of a 5-year old (without wishing to reduce our forever children to Key Stage levels, but I hope you know what I mean).
I also think that the book would appeal to children generally so it would be a disservice to say it was solely for forever children. The story has plenty of emotional resonance and meaning for any child, so although you intend it almost as a different genre, it also stands as a very good children’s book on its own merit.
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed it (despite the tears!). You’ve done a fantastic job with it and I sincerely hope it achieves the aims you have for it.
Roger Winterbottom, Co-founder of CHD2 UK
The book explores deep aspects of life, especially for adults with disabilities
I loved the book, it was a joy and pleasure to read.
Edward Pureheart and the Forever Children takes readers on a captivating journey, filled with a mix of emotions. Edward’s strong determination to find a forever child keeps you hooked as you follow his quest. The book explores deep aspects of life, especially for adults with disabilities or who have suffered trauma, providing a unique glimpse into the world of forever children. With its powerful emotions and thought-provoking themes, this book is a truly enjoyable read that will stay with you long after you finish it.
Becky Turner, proud mum of a Forever Child
in Jennifer Munro’s Edward Pureheart – a carousel horse with fabulous livery and a hopeful disposition – we find a microcosmic universe of laughter, misfortune and effortless warmth, but most of all love.
In a market surfeited with children’s books of good intention but variable quality, it is liberating to find a genuinely affecting story, sincerely told and with sufficient animation to hold a young reader’s attention throughout. And in Jennifer Munro’s Edward Pureheart – a carousel horse with fabulous livery and a hopeful disposition – we find a microcosmic universe of laughter, misfortune and effortless warmth, but most of all love.
Edward’s journey begins in a Texan fairground, where, like Pinocchio, he is lovingly carved by a master carpenter to become the showpiece of the Lone Star carousel. Taking his name from Jim Broadbent’s little son, who dies in an accident, Edward is the bearer of a concealed wooden heart which serves to actuate an emotional connection, especially with children, that becomes his overwhelming raison d’etre. Striving to find a lasting emotional bond with a ‘forever child’, Edward’s adventures take him across the US, from barn to bedroom, to disused workshop. The characters he meets along the way, are, by turns, cheerful (Benny), picaresque (Skinny Steve), and feckless but loving (Whiskers and Dolly). But the host of children who, in their innocence, intuit Edward’s thoughts and communicate with him, eventually succumb to experience and adulthood, and thereby compromise the ‘heart’ which is a precondition of shared love.
That Edward’s odyssey spans more than a century gives latitude to explore a world in flux: the dramatis personae fall away like the frames of a newsreel, and it is Jennifer Munro’s great gift to yield, by subtle insinuation, a sustained image of a nation in temporal motion whose vagaries do not compromise the moral core of her narrative. And if the story is in some sense fabular, its central philosophical underpinnings never waver: here, we find acceptance, warmth and a shared sense of purpose, whose foregrounding, in character, mitigates the omnipresence of venality, greed and ignorance… as it should.
And the greatest lesson that Edward learns, as the narrative eventually transports him across the Atlantic to a London of the present, and the home of the little girl, Kate, is one he discovers at the very beginning:
‘I didn’t know then that you can seldom go back to the happy places and experience the same joys as before. People and places change, life moves forward in a fairly straight line.’
If the story is characterised by an odd hybrid of Anglo-American cultural tokens – several of the main ‘actors’ have regional English surnames, and the linguistic registers are, on the whole, of this side of the water – then disbelief suspension is rendered more elastic in the knowledge that the book is aimed at children. That it also glows with kindness and warmth, and ensures that the most marginal amongst us are often the most susceptible to the heart’s blandishments, is a credit to the writer’s – who lends her narrative voice to the primary characters – perspicacity and humility.
A word for the illustrator, Pieter van Tonder, whose compendium of colourful caricatures accompany the text, and open a beguiling window on a fitting children’s story for our times.
Steve Whitaker, Literary Editor, Yorkshire Times