a genuinely dangerous book for boys?

Good children's books are usually wasted on children (that's at least part of my excuse for being 300 pages into Philip Pullman's Northern Lights). And in my opinion, The Dangerous Book for Boys is confirmation of this.

In fact, it's the perfect book to keep in the pub (that's at least part of my excuse for spending Monday afternoon in The Dog and Bell). I'm not sure whether boys are particularly interested in Douglas Bader or making batteries - the ones round here mostly spend their time skinning up by the Thames Path - but it's perfect fodder for the aspiring pub bore. The Dangerous Book for Boys? Rubbish. Great book. I love it - but it's essentially a nostalgia trip for those old enough to drink legally. Especially if they vaguely recall suffering through Latin lessons, boy scouting and, probably, the second world war.

I know it's sold well, but crikey, cor blimey, etc, do they really imagine "kids these days" want to know about a dog trick called "die for the Queen" or the proper use of the subjunctive? No they don't - it's just sad cases like me, hoping it'll come up in the pub quiz on Sunday. (Although, I admit, the fireproofing cloth and first aid chapters might come in quite useful down my neck of the woods.)

All of which has got me thinking about a sequel: The Really Dangerous Book for Modern Boys.
Chapter 1: How to roll a Camberwell carrot (and the history behind the name).
Chapter 2: How to make a shank out of a toothbrush, box of matches and disposable razor.
Chapter 3: How to contest an Asbo.
Chapter 4: Phrases every boy should know - such as "you have to be a paedophile to teach in school, innit?", "police and criminal evidence act" and "batty".

Of course, I'm probably showing my age: I doubt they call it a Camberwell carrot any more.

There's probably a happy medium - entering, but not breaking, perhaps. Fighting with big sticks, not hunting knives.

And what happened to The Dangerous Book for Girls? Or is it just boys who are supposed to lead an interesting life (until they start drinking and/or blogging)? No doubt the Igguldens could manage a few chapters on sewing buttons, riding side-saddle and avoiding pre-marital sex. Don't you miss the 1950s? Sadly, I'm beginning to suspect I do ...

So those are my sequel ideas. What are yours?

via TheGuardian blog