Beneath A Thousand Skies

Hello,

Today I’m taking a walk down memory lane. I have such vivid memories of getting the Chalet School books out of the library as a child. I lived for books about boarding schools at that age, and these were some of my favourite and they have stayed with me.

Well, this was a jolly romp down memory lane.

My obsession with boarding school stories probably started with Enid Blyton and Malory Towers and St Clare’s and I still love both series, but I think the Chalet School series had a more lasting impact; and after getting so many copies in at work it felt like it was time to pick up the series again and see how it held up.

It hits differently as an adult. For one my reason for being obsessed with boarding schools as a child has disappeared, for two I spent the first bit of the book questioning the logistics of moving out to the Austrian Tyrol and opening a school and how straightforward it was in the book (bloody adult logic, although it didn’t take away from the sense of excitement and adventure). It was also interesting to pay more attention to the language, and how I have such vivid memories of the story and the characters, and yet I am sure that some of the language would have gone over my head back then.

It is also very much a product of its age, written in 1925 some of the attitudes don’t hold up in the modern lens.

‘I know she’s a jolly good sort, but women are so helpless! They ought to have a man to look after them.’

Modern me got huffy… for all of a moment, for two reasons. One, was just acknowledging the age of the book, and the fact that even when I was a child, I had never read that and gone ‘oh yes’, but also aside from certain characters (side eyes Carrick), this was not the prevalent attitude throughout the book. Yes, there was the classic ‘white knight’ element at times, but there is also the fact that right at the beginning Dick followed his sister’s idea and enthusiasm despite his own doubts. There’s also the fact that Madge didn’t read that line, and go ‘oh yes’, she just kept going on her own path.

That said, despite those thoughts, I had an absolute blast with The School at the Chalet. I think perhaps the reason it stuck with me more than similar stories, is that it was an adventure, the girls travelled to a new home; pupils were coming from different places, with different languages, they visited places all around the chalet learning about the history, the culture and people. Most boarding school stories are more localised, within the same four walls aside from visits for away matches; here we had a whole landscape to explore. And it’s funny to look back at this series and realise this was where my interest in mountains and mountaineering probably began, in a misadventure by a stubborn girl believing that she could climb a mountain despite all the warnings.

There is a charm in the way all the girls regardless of nationality embrace school life, and how much they take from stories similar to this one – similar to the ones I devoured as a child. I laughed at the pranks towards the end of the book, rolled my eyes at the possessiveness over certain friendships, giggled over the ink mishap. And I was always invested when the girls from the youngest to the oldest were growing up, pushing boundaries, adjusting to new experiences.

The School at the Chalet held up in more ways than it didn’t, and I will definitely continue to read through the series – although with fifty-eight books it might take a wee while. It was amazing how much I had remembered of the characters and story, and how much I had missed as a child, so that it was a wonderful blend of nostalgia and freshness; and also somewhat startling to see so many roots of myself in this book that I read for the first time well over two decades ago.