Lettice has the power to communicate with the animals. Is this simply a natural rapport? Or is it something deeper? When a world catastrophe threatens, and animals everywhere are thrown into chaos, Lettice needs all her powers of communication to save the world from a deadly invasion.
(1923–2016), British author of more than forty books and television scripts and a master of science fiction for children. Fisk, whose real name is David Higginbottom, grew up during the Second World War and served in the Royal Air Force. His autobiography, Pig Ignorant (1992), covers the years 1939–1941 and details his life in Soho, a bohemian section of London, where he played jazz in the evenings until he was called to enlist. After the war Fisk worked as a musician, journalist, and publisher. He started writing in the 1960s, and his popularity was at its height in the 1970s and 1980s. His most impressive work, A Rag, a Bone, and a Hank of Hair (1982), is a thrilling futuristic novel set at the end of the 22ndcentury. The government is cloning new people and has manufactured a 1940s wartime family whose members are unaware that nothing they know is real. This moving story is a dark representation of the threat posed by technological advancement but is optimistic in its message about the triumph of the human spirit. Fisk's most enduring books include Grinny (1973), which features a technologized extraterrestrial threat in the form of a great- aunt who glows at night, and Trillions (1971), an eerie story about mysterious hard shiny objects that contain an alien intelligence. Monster Maker (1979) was made into a film.
Well, after reading the first few chapters of this book in 1987 in a hardcover from my school library during a lunch break, I finally finished it 32 years later.
I guess I’m a slow reader.
The premise of bulky, bloblike unseen creatures occupying spaces in our homes, perceived only by animals such as domestic cats and dogs and becoming steadily more belligerent was an image that has stuck with me - I suspect in part because the only movie that ever terrified me as a child was Forbidden Planet, which also had a terrifying invisible monster that appeared from nowhere and tore people limb from limb.
It is a great premise.
It is a pity, then, that the characters are so disappointing - one-dimensional and perplexingly regressive (not that surprising in a book published in 1983), and unintentionally creepy in the case Dr Kalabza (who refers to 12 year old Lettice - the protagonist - simply as a “blonde”).
I found the apocalyptic tone of the story intriguing, but I found that the attempts at humour fell flat.
Ultimately, I’m pleased that I’ve finally finished something that I began as a child, but disappointed that it didn’t work as well as it might have. Still, it provoked thoughts, and that is the main thing!
Never one of my favourites as a child and I can sort of see why - Fisk's previous forays into sci-fi inflected horror (Grinny) and even his more outré experiments with genre and style (Trillions) gave you something, or someone, to guide you through the story; whatever their twists and turns his stories led to a (more or less) happy ending and were seen through the eyes of a young protagonist with whom certainly little James Lark could identify.
'On the Flip Side' chucks all such comforting features out of the window. Well, there's Lettice, the oddly-named (and odd) 12-year-old girl who seems to be at the heart of the story. Only she's not, really - and we're introduced to her by an older brother who seems much more 'relatable' and can't stand her. Fisk's brilliance at creating characters is on display as usual, but the adults are just as well drawn as the children and none of them is in any control of the situation that unfolds.
That situation starts off as a Wyndhamesque, gently unsettling tale of communication with animals and an unseen 'other' lurking in the house. But even the comforting familiarity of this style gives way, with unexpected violence, to a B-movie scenario. It would be ridiculous, except that Fisk crafts his chain of events so carefully that it creeps up on you with startling authenticity, and his show-don't-tell (or occasionally, tell-just-a-bit) school of horror is genuinely disturbing.
What happens next is even more unexpected, with a side-step into science fantasy and an ending that resolutely refuses to provide all the answers. An intelligent young reader will fill in the gaps, but as an adult I'm struck by how cleverly ambiguous the last couple of chapters are, suggesting causes and effects and tying in themes that have, it turns out, been running through the whole book, whilst realising that kids will come up with their own ideas given enough space.
It's a tremendously ambitious piece of writing for such a slim volume, and objectively a huge leap forward from some of Fisk's earlier books. I was young when I last picked it up, and no wonder I didn't instantly take to it - it almost seems designed to challenge every assumption a young reader may have about literature - but this one's a keeper. Apart from anything else, its themes are still relevant, if not more than ever. The chapters of desperate attempts at self-sufficiency and social breakdown must have felt prescient to those living with the nuclear anxiety of the early 80s, but I read them as the UK government refused to rule out a 'no deal' Brexit scenario, and the story subtly addresses the issue of food sustainability, far more urgent to a 21st century readership than it would have been on its release. As always, I am left feeling sad that a writer whose qualities are even now revealing themselves is so little available, and you won't find a recent edition of this one - but it's well worthing hunting for in everry second hand bookshop.
Children's book about Lettice who can communicate with her pets. She discovers why dogs stare at, and bark at nothing and cats have 'mad moments'. A bit of a cop-out ending though. BookCrossed