Children's book reviews: Magical urchins, a fearful fur ball, and a pubescent trainee banshee

Pet O’Connell rounds up a fresh selection of the latest children’s books, with tales of an enchanted hotel, a school full of fairies, and a dog afraid of absolutely everything

Above from left: Kate Sheehy with her own dog, the inspiration for Fraidy Dog; Sinéad O’Hart, who had many careers including butcher, bookseller, and lecturer, before becoming an author; and Lee Newbery, who lives in West Wales and works for an arts charity.

The Moonlighters by Lee Newbery (Puffin, €13.05)

The worlds conjured by children’s authors are littered with magical artefacts. 

Not only the obvious broomsticks and rings, but innumerable household objects — mirrors and bed-knobs, carpets, shoes, pens, and fireplaces are all capable of developing magical properties at the drop of a (sorting) hat.

Protagonists variously make it their business to utilise these artefacts in times of mortal peril, to complete a quest, save the world, or just for pure devilment.

In the case of 10-year-old Theo and his new-found friends the Moonlighters, their task is to pilfer “relics” imbued with magic and deliver them to their flamboyant leader Alistair Goodfellow. 

By way of reward, Alistair bestows transient magical powers on the Moonlighters — young people who have run away from home for various reasons and who have an intuitive sense for sorcery but have yet to become masters of the art.

Their communal home is the Casablanca Lily, a dusty, derelict London hotel that sleeps by day but reverts to its former majestic glory when it comes alive each night. 

Here Theo, who although he has a caring family, has fled trouble at his new school and run away on the spur of the moment, finds his tribe and what was missing from his life: Real friends he can rely on.

There’s a touch of the Oliver Twists about the Moonlighters, for whom Alistair is a kind of magical Fagin, a kidsman who though profiting from the material gains of his band of thieves, provides them with shelter but sometimes appears reckless as to their safety. 

A character who has walked straight from an Oscar Wilde novel, Alistair’s dress sense is deliciously outrageous, though they would “never wear polka dots, except to a garden party”, and “never cut sandwiches into squares — it’s got to be triangles”.

Theo senses that Alistair’s motives may not be entirely philanthropic. Filching enchanted shoes or umbrellas is one thing, but seeking out powerful Spellstones, the tools by which “Magismiths” can enchant people and objects, suggests the Moonlighters are being employed on an altogether darker mission.

There’s danger at every turn for the Moonlighters. Pursued by magical malcontents, velociraptors, and even the odd Tube train, they also cross swords with the Wirrim, a magical government whose attempts at policing their community are being subverted.

Magical artefacts and stones aren’t the only obvious Harry Potter similarities here, and comparisons are as inevitable as they were between JK Rowling’s books and all the similarly familiar stories of magic that preceded them.

Yet there’s plenty more here to enchant readers aged eight-plus, who will be transported via a moving bannister to a world of limitless possibilities sparked by Lee Newbery’s imagination, where friendships and family, whether of kin or found varieties, are the most magical gifts.

Less enchanting to non-US readers is the use, right from the opening pages, of American spellings and terms such as ‘fossilized’ and ‘drive-thru’, in a book set in London and written by a Welsh author.

Let that not detract, however, from this spellbinding adventure, illustrated by Geraldine Rodriguez, and the fantastical fun to be enjoyed in this sorcerer’s tale.

Ellora McGee, Trainee Banshee: The New School by Sinéad O’Hart, illustrated by Úna Woods (Gill Books, €12.99)

Without magic, Ellora McGee’s world would be no fun, her dad wouldn’t be able to shape-shift, and her mam couldn’t fly.

Luckily, she has just enrolled at Shee Le Chéile National School, where her fellow pupils are fairies, merrows, leprechauns, and elves. 

Even so, starting at a new school in the middle of the year due to a parental job change is daunting, and Ellora is worried she won’t fit in.

“There’s nobody quite like me,” she thinks, assuming that because she looks and sounds a little different, other pupils will refuse to be her friend.

Her hair is indeed distinctive. More than unruly, it is completely out of control and has a mind of its own, to the extent that it can reach out and grab things, causing Ellora no end of embarrassment.

Then there’s her wailing. Though her family might be supportive, Ellora is terrified that her voice is changing and soon she won’t be able to stop herself letting out blood-curdling cries in public, just like her banshee great-great-granny Norah.

Having a trainee banshee in the family is in fact a source of pride for her parents and grandparents, who assure her that wailing is “not just shrieking about awful stuff” but a useful system for warning of impending peril.

While accidentally releasing a full-throated screech at a birthday party is mortifying for Ellora, she discovers that her new school friends accept her for being “just you” and don’t regard her wailing habit as a problem at all.

Much more of a problem is the one causing the magic of Shee Le Chéile NS to dwindle, and it seems it’s up to Ellora and friends — with the help of an obliging Aughisky water horse — to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Drawing on characters from Irish folklore, Meath-based author Sinéad O’Hart and illustrator Úna Woods, who proved her spectral credentials with Have You Seen the Dublin Vampire? and A Spooktacular Place to Be, have joined forces to create a story for readers aged five to eight that tells of ordinariness within the extraordinary.

The strange scenario of a pubescent banshee learning to master her warning wail in public is intriguing, but Ellora’s fears about not fitting into a new social setting are familiar ones that will strike a chord with readers of all ages.

Fraidy Dog by Kate Sheehy (O’Brien Press, €10.99)

Fraidy Dog is afraid of everything. Sofas are spooky, cupboards are creepy, and houseplants are horrifying.

“He fears that the vacuum will gobble him up and the washing machine will guzzle him down.” And he’s particularly petrified of the “great big, furrocious” … cat.

The cat, which is of average size and not particularly ferocious, doesn’t find everyday items in the least bit spooky, creepy, or horrifying. 

It just wants to play, and with his brave furry friend by his side, perhaps Fraidy Dog can learn to overcome his anxieties.

Well, most of them at any rate. Some household appliances are so noisy that they give even otherwise fearless felines the heebie-jeebies, and the most comforting aspect of this colourful picture book may be its affirmation that even those who appear bravest are still scared of some things.

A chaotic canine caper for younger readers, author-illustrator Kate Sheehy, continuing the theme of animal mayhem from her previous picture book Too Many Cats!.

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