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A review by sraev19
Billy and the Minpins by Roald Dahl
3.5
The final book in my Roald Dahl box set, Billy and the Minpins, is a fun little read and a nice way to finish off the collection. Not by coincidence, this is also Dahl’s final piece of fiction and was published posthumously under the original title The Minpins. While there’s nothing particularly catchy or inventive in this story (hello, Lilliputians!), it’s still an enjoyable children’s book.
Like all the other books in the box set, this edition is illustrated by Quentin Blake. What’s notable about this, however, is that Blake did not illustrate the story until it was republished as Billy and the Minpins in 2017. Even though Blake had been illustrating editions of Dahl’s work since 1976, The Minpins was the only children’s book Blake had not illustrated; Patrick Benson was the original illustrator for the 1991 release.
Thus, as Blake remarks in a note at the end of the book, this edition is smaller and set with a higher page count to allow room for Blake “to draw every single thing that happens.” And draw he did—every page spread has at least one delightful illustration.
I very much appreciated the full spreads, as the pictures capture the mood and movement of the story. The drawings of the Minpins dressed in their old-fashioned Elizabethan-esque clothing are whimsical and surprisingly detailed and really bring these tiny people to life.
One quibble I have with this edition is the printing quality. Portions of some pictures have bled onto the opposite page, creating ghost images—the crook of an elbow here or the scrawled lines of a curtain there. I hadn’t noticed this detail in the other books of the collection, and I was disappointed the most heavily illustrated book has this minor distraction.
As for the story itself, it’s an upbeat tale of an adventurous boy overcoming a cloud-of-death-breathing monster. The monster as antagonist is a nice change from many of Dahl’s stories that pit children against either abusive caregivers or creatures who are ugly inside and out. Dahl’s wordplay is absent from the narrative save for the description of the monster, and for that lack, the writing feels a bit bland.
Nevertheless, Billy and the Minpins, with Blake’s lovely illustrations, is a fine piece to conclude Dahl’s eminent body of children’s literature. The story’s ending sums up well the theme running through all of Dahl’s children’s books and is a wonderful message for young readers:those who believe in magic will find the world’s greatest secrets in the most unlikely of places .
Like all the other books in the box set, this edition is illustrated by Quentin Blake. What’s notable about this, however, is that Blake did not illustrate the story until it was republished as Billy and the Minpins in 2017. Even though Blake had been illustrating editions of Dahl’s work since 1976, The Minpins was the only children’s book Blake had not illustrated; Patrick Benson was the original illustrator for the 1991 release.
Thus, as Blake remarks in a note at the end of the book, this edition is smaller and set with a higher page count to allow room for Blake “to draw every single thing that happens.” And draw he did—every page spread has at least one delightful illustration.
I very much appreciated the full spreads, as the pictures capture the mood and movement of the story. The drawings of the Minpins dressed in their old-fashioned Elizabethan-esque clothing are whimsical and surprisingly detailed and really bring these tiny people to life.
One quibble I have with this edition is the printing quality. Portions of some pictures have bled onto the opposite page, creating ghost images—the crook of an elbow here or the scrawled lines of a curtain there. I hadn’t noticed this detail in the other books of the collection, and I was disappointed the most heavily illustrated book has this minor distraction.
As for the story itself, it’s an upbeat tale of an adventurous boy overcoming a cloud-of-death-breathing monster. The monster as antagonist is a nice change from many of Dahl’s stories that pit children against either abusive caregivers or creatures who are ugly inside and out. Dahl’s wordplay is absent from the narrative save for the description of the monster, and for that lack, the writing feels a bit bland.
Nevertheless, Billy and the Minpins, with Blake’s lovely illustrations, is a fine piece to conclude Dahl’s eminent body of children’s literature. The story’s ending sums up well the theme running through all of Dahl’s children’s books and is a wonderful message for young readers: