Of all the media I've consumed in my forty-something years, The Magic Key is by far the most influential. It was my absolute, utter, favourite, favourite childhood book, and it encapsulates everything I love. My mum found it for me in a charity shop (where all our stuff came from) when I was about five, and I loved it so hard for so many years that it fell apart (but obviously I still have this over-loved remnant of a copy!)
I adored everything about it, from its mystical time capsule vintageness (1 shilling price tag and browned pages) to its whimsical toadstall and fern illustrations, vehement belief in fairies and catchy poem at the end. I read it multiple times every night before bed, gazed at the artwork for hours and learnt the words off by heart. I spent my days repeatedly reciting it to myself and anyone who would listen. The pages felt thick and comforting, and it smelled like home. There was a particular fairy in the background of one page that I decided was me. She was dressed in yellow and had a hat made from a flower. I lived in this book!
The story starts with siblings Mary Lou and Tommy venturing from their back garden to the woods. They stumble upon a strange stone with a keyhole in it, and Tommy happens to have the key! "Little Mary Lou was sure that fairies and elves lived in the forest, but matter-of-fact Tommy said 'That's Nonsense!'" Plot twist, little Mary Lou was right! A victory for gaslit girls everywhere! The children end up in a magical, foresty, sparkly fairyland. There is a grumpy yet kind elf called Gruffy, a bumbling and incompetent Prime Minister (the one who lost the key- he looks a bit like Father Christmas!) and then there is The Fairy Queen. Ethereal, strong and successful, she resembles the Good Witch of the North from The Wizard of Oz.
Some of my favourite, magical lines from the book:
- "The rusty old key began to glow like gold."
- "Are we getting smaller or are the toadstalls growing taller?"
- "They showed him how to swim without getting wet and how to sail an oak leaf boat" (I really really wanted to know how to swim without getting wet!)
- "The crickets and katydids played their violins. The lightning bugs hung in the trees like little lanterns."
Luckily, about twenty years later, my mum found me another copy of The Magic Key, again in a charity shop. Beautifully tatty yet intact, it sits alongside my torn and decomposing original. I reread it and realised its significance- this book took me to another world and taught me to believe in myself, even when facing doubt from others. It encouraged me to daydream about magic and to embrace my femininity. It ignited my love for nature and music, and my passion for feminism.
Weirdly, I do seem to be drawn to keys. I had successive pairs of Clarks Magic Steps throughout childhood (the 80s advert for these is another big influence). As an adult, my favourite films include David Lynch's Mulholland Drive and Maya Deren's Meshes of the Afternoon. I'm sure The Magic Key led me to them,
If you are lucky enough to cross paths with this gorgeous, fantastical treasure, please cherish it and love it. And next time you doubt someone, or someone doubts you, think of Tommy and Mary Lou.