Let's go, let's go, let’s go, let's go – down to Junior's Farm, where I wanna lay low. Low life, high life, oh, let's go. Take me down to Junior's Farm. Everybody, tag along.
Yes, it is the book most remembered for the character of Junior, the terrible American kid. The delightfully alliterative Five on Finniston Farm is not known for its book title, but who can remember any specific Famous Five book, given how samey they are, especially when this is Book 18 out of 21.
But yes, I do remember Junior. The Comic Strip also recalled him, and put him in their wicked spoof of Blyton’s series, Five Go Mad on Mescalin. Junior is far from being the story’s villain on that occasion, and perhaps I can speak up for him a little here. Not much though.
As we are 18 books in, and the Famous Five have spent at least a dozen summers together, they must be getting slightly older by now, right? Four pages in, Julian declares: “And I’ve a sudden longing for nice juicy plums!” Oh my, they are growing up.
Oh wait, no, he meant the fruit. By the next page, the Five are continuing to deplete the country’s supply of ice cream and ginger pop. I guess they haven’t grown up at all.
This time the Five are staying on a farm. Yes, I know they have stayed on farms before, but bear with me. Their hostess is very nice to them, and keeps them well-fed. Ok, this is much like every other farm in the Famous Five.
Actually, there are a few changes. The Philpots are not exactly welcoming hosts. There ate two surly twins, called Henry and Harriet, who insist on both being called Harry, and on looking alike, even though they are of different sexes. "Come and play with us, Kirrins,” they tell our heroes, “... forever... and ever... and ever"
Well ok, they are not quite as bad as the twins in The Shining, but certainly creepy. When have twins ever wanted to look alike, share the same name and talk in unison?
There is an old grandfather who shouts a lot and is in danger of beating people up, or so we’re told. Even Mr Philpot hardly drips hospitality: “More visitors?” said Trevor with a groan. “Good heavens – what a crowd of children!”
Before the Five can give the Philpot farm a one-star rating on Booking.com, a few mitigating factors arise. Firstly the family seem very poor, and poor Mrs Philpot and the twins are overworked. This is not helped by the selfish ass grandfather, who objects to them selling any of their antiques. Gee, I wonder if some mysterious treasure will appear and rescue the Philpots from their arduous life?
Secondly, we are back to Junior again. There are two American visitors, Mr Henning and his son Junior. They are rich, spoilt and unpleasant, like all Americans in Blytonland (though a few of the characters concede they have met nice Americans).
We know that Junior is awful because he expects Mrs Philpot to make a drink for him, and he wants breakfast in bed. WHA-AT! This is unheard of. A paying guest expecting service from the hostess? What is the world coming to? What will Junior demand next? Will he expect that meals should be made for him, or that he will have to make his own bed? He should think himself lucky he has a bed.
So yes, some of Junior’s demands hardly sounds as outrageous as Blyton makes them out to be, and the Hennings might also be justified in giving the Philpot farm a one-star rating on Booking.com.
However, Junior is undeniably awful, and causes a lot of chaos on the farm by interfering with the cows, wanting to drive a tractor, and slitting bags of seed. So Blyton is determined to make sure that we do not sympathise with the little brat.
For some reason, Mrs Philpot allows George to take breakfast to Junior, so that she can be nasty to him in a way that goes so far that I am surprised it did not lead to legal action against the Philpots. It does however endear the surly Genderqueer Shining Twins to the Five, so it is not a waste of time.
Soon the Five hear about a castle that used to be in the area. I wonder if there is hidden treasure or a secret passageway. Oh. Yes, sure enough, there is both. However, matters are complicated by the fact that Henning, thanks to a snooping Junior, has learned about it from the Five, and bought rights to excavate.
Again, the Hennings are somehow seen as villainous because they wish to get their hands on English treasure and transport it to America, taking away our proud heritage. Clearly, Blyton think that it is better that historically valuable items are left to rot in an obscure farm where nobody can see them, rather than reverently displayed to thousands of Americans, because it’s ours, and not theirs.
Now the fight is on to see if the Five can find it before the Hennings. No prizes for guessing if they do, despite the Five being unusually dense in this book. Wait, why are there feathers in this secret tunnel? Oh yes, it’s the magpie who found the tunnel for us about FIVE MINUTES AGO. What is that humming sound? Oh yes, it’s the excavation that we saw FIVE MINUTES AGO. Oops, we got buried alive, and did not think to leave one of us above ground to get help.
Fortunately, this is not an Edgar Allan Poe story, and the Five escape alive, and a happy ending is had by all except the villains of the piece. The Philpots will have some wealth and not need to share it with the Five, who found their own treasure in the first book anyway, and are therefore presumably rich – unless Quentin has squandered it all on scientific nonsense, as is probable.
While the Five books have become formulaic by this point, Finniston Farm is a little better than the last few. The character of Junior, for all his unpleasantness, adds a little amusement and spice to the story. It is also nice to have villains who are not smugglers, spies or criminals of any kind, but merely rival excavators. So I shall award the book the extra star that recent entries did not get.