The Phantom Tollbooth

While recovering from jetlag, I treated myself to a reread of The Phantom Tollbooth, a book I return to about once a decade (I read it much more frequently as a kid, of course.) Tock the watchdog, the doldrums, the humbug, the Awful Dynne… hey, guess what; the book is still glorious.(And I still won’t use the phrase “killing time” - and if you read it at the right age, I bet you don’t, either.)

And then there’s the 1970 animated adaptation by Chuck Jones, which is true to the book and also weird as fuck. It’s no less weird than the novel, yet somehow, when The Phantom Tollbooth spools out its narrative outside one’s own brain, things get weird.

Arguably, the weirdest bits are the live-action bits, when Milo is moping around his apartment, bored out of his skull. This kid’s ennui is genuniely kind of disturbing. But, happily, he - and we - are soon transported to a land where dogs make goofy, Jones-ian faces and Mel Blanc (and Hans Conried!) order Milo around with their extremely recognisable voices.

The entire book is and will always be a delight, but my favourite part, as a kid and upon every reread, is Chroma the Great conducting the sunset. Using music to describe the way light transforms the world: it is a brilliant, compelling conceit that works perfectly and never fails to give me goosebumps.

If you have the time to reread a childhood favourite this weekend, I encourage you to do it. Have a great one!

Just one more thing! Norton Juster did not like the adaptation, and Chuck Jones himself has a cameo in the live-action bit at the beginning! (He’s the man in the sweater, getting off the trolley car.)

Amy x