Jane, the Fox and Me by Fanny Britt and Isabelle Arsenault

Have you ever found a book that is just so beautiful you don't really care what it's about? Because that's how I felt the moment I saw the illustrations of Jane, the Fox and Me by Fanny Britt and Isabelle Arsenault, translated from French by Christelle Morelli and Susan Ouriou. It's great to see such a gorgeous graphic novel that not only appeals to girls, but addresses the issues that so many find they deal with during adolescence: self-esteem and physical appearance.

Helene has not had it easy at school. All of her former friends have abandoned her, and now entertain themselves by writing insults about Helene on the bathroom walls, or saying it out loud when they know she can hear. Their attacks on her appearance make Helene incredibly self-conscious, to the point she believes everything they say about her. It's a heartbreaking story seeing how a young girl can allow unkind and untrue words to alter her view of herself as well as the world around her. But Helene finds some relief in reading Jane Eyre, seeing how Jane grew up to be a beautiful intelligent woman, despite being a lonely orphan in her youth. As the bullying continues, it's not shocking to see how Helene retreats further into herself, and she begins to think that while Jane Eyre might have been lucky, it won't be true for herself.

This is a poignant story showing a different side of the person being bullied. We are introduced not to the typical victim who feels they are constantly being wronged, but one who actually believes what her tormentors say is true. Even if you cannot empathise with Helene, you may begin to realise that what you say to others really can affect how they view themselves. At least, I hope this is what young girls will take away from this story, and I think that providing it in a graphic novel format will potentially appeal to those girls who might not generally read. The illustrations provide the real sense of isolation that Helene experiences, with the sparing use of colour bringing the hope she initially lacks.

Walker Books have clearly put a lot of thought into the production of this book, getting the design spot on. Their close attention to matching the cover and the end papers to the colours of the illustrations really brings the whole book together in a spectacular presentation. (The copy I bought also had a fantastic fresh from the printer smell!) It's worth owning this title if not for the illustrations but for reminder of how much our words can mean to someone. This is a lesson that unfortunately seems to be reiterated to children and teens, but here, rather than being said it is shown through the emotion-provoking illustrations. If only there were more graphic novels as impressive and appealing to young girls as this one!

You can buy Jane, the Fox and Me directly from Walker Books on their website here.

A House Without Mirrors by Mårten Sandén

I have already confessed once to enjoying a good translated book. I should also now confess that I am rapidly becoming obsessed with Pushkin Press's children's list. A House Without Mirrors is the second Pushkin Press book I've read, and it certainly won't be the last.

The story is told from the perspective of the 11-year-old Thomasine, who lives in a large house with her relatives and her dying great-aunt Henrietta. Her father spends the majority of his time caring for the elderly woman, while her aunt and uncle seem to be more interested in how to split the inheritance once Henrietta does die. Thomasine's cousins have their faults as well: vanity, shyness and trouble-making.

With a slight nod to Narnia, the children discover a wardrobe where all the mirrors in the house were hidden. Yet when they step inside, rather than being taken to another world, they are transported to another time in a mirror image of the same house.

The story is supplemented with beautiful illustrations by Moa Schulman. The style of the book itself may appear to be aimed at younger children, and while they can certainly enjoy the story, an older child and certainly an adult can appreciate the difficulty of love and grief that Thomasine and her family experience.

Translated from Swedish by Karin Altenberg and published by Pushkin Press, Mårten Sandén's A House Without Mirrors is not one to be missed. It is a fascinating look at how we all have an inner struggle, and what could happen if we only face it.

The Letter for the King by Tonke Dragt

When I did my degree in Literature, most books I read were written by what we came to call the DWM. That is, Dead White Men. My classes were 90% American and English literature, and the books probably 90% DWM authors. At the time, I didn't question it. We were reading what was considered to be classics, and I enjoyed most of the books.

But a few years ago a friend confessed that his girlfriend was annoyed with him for constantly reading DWM. Why wasn't he bothering with female authors? So he spent an entire year trying to read nothing but female authors. I can't say I ever went as far as that, but I did become more aware of not just what, but who I was reading. I am certain there are many people who might agree more women writers need to be taught at schools. On the plus side, I think they are very well represented in modern publishing. Glancing at my bookshelves now, I'd say I've a pretty good male-female balance.

My real concern with reading, though, is that very few people read books in translation. Possibly worse, UK and US publishers seem more keen to export their own authors rather than finding great works of world literature. So many people will say that reading offers an expanded view of the world, but I find it hard to agree with that when most of us only read from a select geographical region.

That's not to say great works of foreign literature don't make it into English. There has recently been a surge of interest around Scandinavian stories thanks to Steig Larsson. Many classics come from outside the English-speaking world as well. But I still feel most English-speaking publishers are interested in selling, rather than buying, foreign rights.

And this is when I discovered Pushkin Press, who only publish books in translation. There was a book in Waterstones that kept catching my eye. The cover was gorgeous, and it was so much fatter than all the other books on the children's shelves surrounding it. A story about a knight on a quest isn't usually the first thing I go for, but I found I couldn't resist any longer.

The Letter for the King was originally written in Dutch by Tonke Dragt in 1962. She's considered to be one of the greatest Dutch writers for children, yet I would guess most of us outside the Dutch-speaking world wouldn't have heard of her. A shame, really.

The Letter for the King is fantastic. It is written in an older, more simple language than is used in most books today, but has so much charm. Tiuri, our would-be knight had he not been charged with an urgent task of delivering a letter, is a wonderful protagonist for children. His thoughts are simple, easy to understand, yet he is intelligent, brave and incredibly loyal to his task. Throughout his quest to deliver a letter to a king of a neighbouring kingdom, he encounters many people who offer to help him, and many times his trust in others becomes a misfortune in his tale. There are enemies lurking, willing to kill the young man in order to steal the letter.

Despite its hefty length for a children's book (460 pages), The Letter for the King is an exhilarating read with some lovely illustrations by the author. Each step of Tiuri's journey brings another adventure, another danger, and another friend who shows that often there is more good than evil in the world.

I commend Pushkin Press for finding books to translate and publish in English, and I can't wait to see more of what Pushkin bring into the English market. They've done a fantastic job with The Letter for the King, and I would highly recommend this title to anyone wanting a bit of old-fashioned chivalry and adventure.