This is a selection, placed in arbitrary order on the page, of illustrations from the many, many annuals I have acquired, hacked and resented for twenty years. Once I thought each volume would be kept intact, cunningly dated, and linked to some critical master-theory. What a waste of time!

The books, the illustrations are incoherent and usually nasty. What's the point? The annuals were all cover and no content, like New Labour. The paper was of poor quality and the standards of drawing exceptionally low. The figures depicted were stereotypes whose reactions seldom fitted the needs of the narrative. Simple tasks like drawing a boy holding a suitcase were comic in their ineptitude. Often their hands had thumbs on the wrong side.The colours were brash and straight from the pot. There was skimping and bluster everywhere.

Each illustration has a caption for those who had difficulty with the rambling tales.

"The half-caste turned and ran..."

"Madge stood at the prow, rifle ready."

"The boy felt mad when Mr.Court said 'Take the Girl'..."

"Johnny Fleetfoot found his boots and stockings so uncomfortable that he pulled them off and threw them away. Then he tore down the wing, dribbling with his bare feet."

The point is probably the rich absurdity of these visual narratives, the turns of phrase, impossible propositions, and miracle children in a world of Laskar Stokers, Half-Castes and Johnny Chinee. The Working Classes are entirely feckless, wear flat caps, and steal sacks of lumpy things to sell to pay for booze. Wild animals are hostile and eat you unless a white person in white clothes slaughters them first.

Their depiction of Sporting Excellence is comic, yet was held in sneaking regard at Watford Grammar School for Boys (1956 - 1963). I remember one visiting athlete from the sub-continent who could hurl a javelin clear of our School Grounds, much to our grudging admiration. The Redskin Winger was a conceit easily translated by the Sports Master to his own uses from the Scottish Football League.

The idle, sex-obsessed scum in Lower Remove Geography would have beaten and incapacitated any brave soul who sought to leap the Blackboard. He would never have walked again, the great show-off. Phil will remember. Harry Ree would have rewarded the Jumper's initiative and ability, little suspecting the vindictive rage he had released in the rest of our surly cohort.

A saving grace was the vast discrepancy between an intended chasteness, and a simmering sexuality, teetering on the edge of groping, licking and evil intent. In several schoolgirl annuals, there is a clear predilection for Girls in short skirts and cricket pads, which made an impact upon me that lasts to this day and my readings of Philip Larkin's Trouble at Willow Gables.