![]() And I wasn’t able to sleep.”Īn Aldo Galli illustration for the new edition Photograph: PR “Yes,” says Ros, “he told us scary stories. ![]() Elizabeth is watching him chat from the sofa, as is Ros, one of his daughters. Next door, in a vast and higgledy-piggedly library, books are stacked to the ceiling. Appropriately enough, there are a few small rabbit statues under one of the tables. ![]() ![]() I can remember weeping when I was little at upsetting things that were read to me, but fortunately my mother and father were wise enough to keep going.”Īdams, 94, is ensconced in an armchair in front of the fire in his 18th-century home in Whitchurch, Hampshire, where he and his wife Elizabeth have lived for the last 30 years. Readers like to be upset, excited and bowled over. I do not believe in talking down to children. “When you’re little,” he says, “you don’t distinguish between fiction and reality. The author of Watership Down has been remembering, with some pride, how he used to petrify his children with scary stories at bedtime. ![]() R ichard Adams, no stranger to terrifying children with his tales of rabbits being snared or gassed, narrows his eyes and recites, word-perfect, a lengthy passage from an intensely creepy short story by MR James called The Stalls of Barchester Cathedral. ![]()
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