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Cold comforts: the best children’s books of 2015

Get hold of these, and your holidays will be peaceful and merry.

Christmas is crucial to the book trade but, in the case of children’s books, it has every­thing to do with a sense of wonder at the heart of winter. Some of the best classics ever written, from Raymond Briggs’s The Snowman to Russell Hoban’s The Mouse and His Child, stem from this.

Matt Haig’s A Boy Called Christmas (Canongate, £12.99) is such a book for readers over nine. It is about the boyhood of Father Christmas – and what a miserable, lonely, hungry, chilly childhood it is. Haig’s black humour and insights into depression have made him a national treasure for both children and adults; this story, however, is about how the 11-year-old Nikolas travels north in search of his woodcutter father, accompanied by a mouse and a reindeer called Blitzen. It explains along the way how reindeer fly, why we put presents in stockings and how crackers can save lives. Brilliantly told and imagined, it is about the importance of hope and kindness and it should be in every stocking.

Younger children (seven-plus) will lap up Pugs of the Frozen North, another comic caper from the dream team of Philip Reeve and Sarah McIntyre (Oxford University Press, £8.99). In a race to the frozen north, Sika and Shen compete on a sled drawn by 66 pop-eyed pugs, evading snow trolls, yetis, krakens and rivals who include Sir Basil Sprout-Dumpling. The lively text and bonkers illustrations will enchant and amuse – but for a more poetic and profound story, Horatio Clare’s Aubrey and the Terrible Yoot (Firefly, £7.99) is the one. Again, it is about rescuing parents – in this case, the madcap Aubrey’s dad, Jim, who has fallen under the spell of despair. With captivating drawings by Jane Matthews, it is a magical wintery adventure told with a unique mix of robust humour and imaginative insight. Highly recommended for children aged eight-plus.

Katherine Rundell’s The Wolf Wilder (Bloomsbury, £12.99, ten-plus) is set in pre-revolutionary Russia and is about “a dark and stormy girl” who re-wilds pet wolves denatured by aristocrats. When her beloved mother is captured, Feodora and her wolves must journey to St Petersburg’s prisons to save her. Crackling with ice and intelligence, the story moves from warm fires to freezing steppes with fierce conviction and a voice that promises tremendous things.

Virago has reprinted P L Travers’s little tale The Fox at the Manger (£9.99, seven-plus), an uncomfortable yet touching tale about the nativity and generosity that is appropriate for politicians’ stockings. Another fox is at the heart of my picture book of the year, in Coralie Bickford-Smith’s The Fox and the Star (Particular Books, £14.99). The lonely Fox searches for his only friend, the Star, through intricate, exquisite, William Morris-inspired woods. An outstanding gift for five-plus readers.

Emma Chichester Clark’s Love Is My Favourite Thing (Jonathan Cape, £11.99) is about an irresistible dog that can’t help being naughty. If you do have a dog (or don’t yet but plan to), it will reinforce the appeal. Meanwhile, the equally irresistible Day-Glo graphics of Christopher Corr’s Deep in the Woods (Frances Lincoln, £11.99) light up a lively folk tale. A lonely bear tries to make friends with a houseful of smaller animals and generosity saves them from homelessness. Both are for three-plus. Charming and simple, Robin's Winter Song by Suzanne Barton (Bloomsbury, £10.99, two-plus) is about a young robin fearing his first winter.

Animal-lovers aged nine and above also have a treat: Lauren St John’s lion-hearted heroine Martine is back in Operation Rhino (Orion, £10.99), in which poachers leave an orphaned baby rhino that must be brought to safety through natural magic, friendship and courage. I love this South Africa-based series and its warm, direct style.

Older children can take a much more jaundiced view of Christmas. For these, Andy Mulligan’s Liquidator (David Fickling, £12.99, 11-plus) is simply brilliant. Narrated by a group of kids sent on work experience, it is a thrilling, funny, wholly original adventure about a popular fizzy drink being deadly. Mulligan is a radical, readable, risk-taking writer with a message we need to hear, especially after Jamie Oliver’s campaign against sugar.

Hell and High Water (Walker Books, £12.99) by the Carnegie Medal winner Tanya Landman is a historical adventure about trust. Set in north Devon in the 18th century, its mixed-race hero must somehow prevent his adored puppeteer father from being transported for a crime he didn’t commit. He encounters not only racism but strange coldness from his white aunt. Heart-stoppingly good, romantic, passionate storytelling for a 12-plus audience.

Emerald Fennell’s Monsters (Hot Key, £7.99) will delight 12-plus fans of Edward Gorey, Lemony Snicket and Bret Easton Ellis: it is a hideously funny account by a cynical 13-year-old girl of a series of murders in the Cornish town of Fowey. Sophisticated and suspenseful, it has a view of adults that parents would be wise to avoid reading.

Much more wholesome for those over 11 is Sally Nicholls’s An Island of Our Own (Scholastic, £6.99), about children engaged on a treasure hunt. Its Blyton-esque quality is underscored by bereavement, issues around social services and a narrative voice to fall in love with. In contrast to all the dystopian young-adult fiction, it is a memorable and refreshing read.

Philip Reeve’s Railhead (Oxford University Press, £9.99) is a fabulously inventive sci-fi adventure about Zen, a petty thief on Ambersai, a big moon connected to the interstellar “Great Network”. Zen’s dangerous mission is driven by characters as much as by concepts such as insects that coalesce into monks, androids and intelligent trains. Reeve’s Mortal Engines series has a great following but this is a must-have for 11-plus.

My children’s book of the year is Cressida Cowell’s How to Fight a Dragon’s Fury (Hodder, £12.99), the 12th and last of her How to Train Your Dragon books. Most series run out of steam but this has kept a consistent flow of brilliant characters, jokes, stylish writing, illustrations and ideas – and the finale is tremendous. Her geeky, once-despised Viking hero, Hiccup, saves humanity (and dragons) from certain doom in an unpredictable, satisfying way. This series, far better than the films, is one of the greatest ever written for those between eight and 12. Buy them all and your holidays will be blessed with perfect peace.

Amanda Craig’s most recent novel is Hearts And Minds (Abacus)

This article first appeared in the 03 December 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Syria and the impossible war

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Marching against climate change in the age of Donald Trump

The People’s Climate Movement is as much about politics as science. That's its strength.

Saying goodbye is never easy. But the present generation are facing an awful lot of farewells: to the melting arctic, the dying Barrier Reef, and the general resilience of ecosystems around the world. As Margaret Atwood described it in her essay of the same name: “It’s not climate change, it’s everything change”.

The problem with “everything-change” is that it can be overwhelming. How do you even decide where to start?

The People’s Climate Movement want to begin by making visible the extent of concern out there. This weekend, a coalition of organisations have planned a protest march on the American capital. Between 50,000 -100,000 people are expected to attend, including eco-celebrities Leonardo Di Caprio, Al Gore and Richard Branson.

In London, a group called Campaign Against Climate Change, are co-ordinating a UK-based solidarity event. Protestors will meet at 11.30am in Old Palace yard opposite Parliament, then move to Westminster Bridge, where they will spell out a message to Theresa May: “Trump and May: Climate Disaster”.

For UK campaigners, this is a vital opportunity to raise awareness of the many ways in which action on climate change is under threat. Claire James from CACC outlines the sense of frustration and injustice that many feel with regard to recent government policy: “There have been 12,000 jobs lost last year in the solar industry alone and installation numbers have plummeted. Meanwhile fracking, hugely unpopular, is given determined backing.”

Ahead of the June election, campaigners are using the event to call for specific, cross-party commitments. One, fast-tracking the UK’s delayed Climate Change Plan. Two, ruling out new trade deals that compromise environmental, worker or consumer rights. And three, implementing a fair deal for UK solar and wind industry. “Our action on Saturday is about saying to the government – and to anyone who wants to form the next government – do your policies measure up?” says James.

These concrete political aims are an important way in which the movement differs from last weekend’s March For Science. That protest, inspired by the popularity of the Women’s March earlier this year, kept its message intentionally wide. As one of the London event’s organisers told DeSmog, it placed its emphasis on a generalised “celebration of science”. But this lack of specificity drew criticism from some quarters – for presenting a confusing message about politics' relationship to science.

Generalisation can also risk putting people off joining marches at all. Over the last few months, numerous friends have said they feel uncomfortable joining protests where they’re not sure that the person marching next to them is doing so for the same reasons. They’d feel much happier signing a petition, with a more specific and limited aim, they tell me.

This weekend’s climate marches risk drawing some of the same concerns. “Climate-change has become a synecdoche, a surrogate, for many causes in today’s world – social justice, the protection of nature, the rights of future generations, the defence of science,” says Professor Mike Hulme from King's College London. “Marches such as this give political voice to anti-establishment protest, but they don’t stop the climate changing.”

In addition, not all who want to see climate change prioritised by governments may agree over the exact course of action – with outright opposition to fracking, for instance, or to a third runway at Heathrow.

But this weekend’s movement also appears to have taken these lessons on board. First, they are putting their political aims up front. According the US event’s website, whereas the March for Science strove to be non-political, this movement “believes strongly in the need to call out the politicians.”

The link to the Paris Climate Treaty is helpful in this respect. The People’s Climate Movement traces its birth back to September 21 2014, the eve of the UN climate summit, when 400,000 people marched through New York demanding action on the climate crisis. This gives the movement a clear piece of legislation to both celebrate and defend.

And the London-based event is also attempting to re-think and expand what street-protests can achieve. “We’re doing a smaller action rather than a big march,” explains Claire James, “but we’re trying to have a real focus with the speakers on ‘what next’”. After the protest in Westminster, attendees are invited to join an afternoon of free food, activities and music, hosted by the food waste campaign Feedback. Here there will be even further opportunity to learn about the many ways – from divestment campaigns to local renewable energy groups – in which people can help press for change.

In this respect, public action against the climate crisis promises not to end when the walking does. And while protests won't stop climate change in themselves, joining a march can be a powerful reminder that we are not in this crisis alone.

India Bourke is an environment writer and editorial assistant at the New Statesman.

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