![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrNeil Gaiman made a passing reference in a recent blog entry of, back when he was a boy, picking up copies of Bunty long ago for his sisters but reading it himself first. I was surprised by the pleasant flood of nostalgia I felt at Neil's casual offhand reference. Lordy, I haven't thought of Bunty for years. It was a girls' weekly comic book which was published in the British Isles starting in 1958, and at its peak, it reached a circulation of one million copies. Bunty continued until it quietly folded in 2001, done in by the changes in cultural trends and marketing to girls and teens.
It's rather surprising, I suppose, that I ever had the chance to even read it, but I had a friend who, like me, took ballet, who had an aunt who faithfully sent her copies from over the ocean, and Katie kindly let me borrow them to read. Great literature it was not, but there was something about those stories that were just exactly right for me at the stage of life I was at when I encountered them: exciting tales about girls having adventures, with their friends at their sides. I devoured them and loved them and desperately pined to have my own copies. I loved all the stories about the Four Marys and especially about Lorna Drake, who was studying to be a ballerina.
Here's to you, Bunty. I remember you, over thirty five years later, with affection and gratitude. Thanks for all the stories. I suppose my memory is rather rose-colored (I had much less critical discernment back when I was ten), but still, I wish I could have introduced my own little girls to you, too.
It's rather surprising, I suppose, that I ever had the chance to even read it, but I had a friend who, like me, took ballet, who had an aunt who faithfully sent her copies from over the ocean, and Katie kindly let me borrow them to read. Great literature it was not, but there was something about those stories that were just exactly right for me at the stage of life I was at when I encountered them: exciting tales about girls having adventures, with their friends at their sides. I devoured them and loved them and desperately pined to have my own copies. I loved all the stories about the Four Marys and especially about Lorna Drake, who was studying to be a ballerina.
Here's to you, Bunty. I remember you, over thirty five years later, with affection and gratitude. Thanks for all the stories. I suppose my memory is rather rose-colored (I had much less critical discernment back when I was ten), but still, I wish I could have introduced my own little girls to you, too.