An ode to bedtime stories

In my bedtime stories I was the Secretary General of the United Nations. These stories painted me as strong, elegant and supremely intelligent, though empathetic in my conduct. Think Cate Blanchett. So, in my 9-year-old mind, it didn’t seem to matter that I didn’t know what the Secretary General of the UN was, or did. I knew how I needed to act.  

These ambitious bedtime stories were the invention of our family friend Facey. True to her name she was expressive and articulated with the sarcastic and quick-witted prose of a cheerier Helen Garner. Charismatically, as though on stage, she’d routinely shout - ‘DICKENS!’ - whether or not anyone had asked for a reading recommendation. For Facey, Dickens could solve most issues. If politicians spoke rubbish on TV - Facey insisted, they could be bought back to reality by a dose of Dickens. If kids played up at the high school, a detention with Dickens would do the trick. 

 In her storytelling, Facey drew inspiration from the classics. She’d start with three bears and a curly-haired girl, but soon enough I appeared in front of an assembly, negotiating world peace and providing security for all. The stories flattered me, almost as much as the fact that she bothered to spend time with a 9-year-old. As I dozed off, I’d feel proud and capable, my dreams brimming with possibility. 

 Curious about my path to success, I spoke to my Dad, who was conveniently the High School careers leader in our tiny town.  

“What do I need to do to become Secretary General of the United Nations?”

He peered at me over the top of his little glasses that sat on the end of his long nose.  

“As in, is there a Secretary General of the United Nations course? It doesn’t quite work like that Caito. You might look at studying Politics first, then International politics, and then become a Government Official, then a Diplomat or something.”

Doubt set in.

Until then I’d been surrounded by professions that had their task clearly in their title. A teacher teaches, a publican runs the pub, a nurse nurses, a checkout chick works behind a checkout. What started with the Secretary General of the UN, was an introduction to a world of mysteriously titled professions. 

At university I dipped my toe into International Politics alongside a young man who went to the same college as me. I attended every lecture and tutorial, read every reading, made notes and planned my essays diligently. He sauntered into tutorials late, and only when he had to attend having used up all his free passes. He’d outwit the tutor and never failed to win a debate (or start one) despite having done no preparation for class. He handed in essays in their first draft, paper crumpled and coffee stained, a stream of thought that was nevertheless a convincing manifesto. He aced the subject. I, to say the least, did not! The realisation that good notes didn’t guarantee success in politics, bought my political career to a swift close. 

More recently I was reminded of my bedtime stories. The Economist interviewed Secretary General Guterres, about whether the United Nations as an organisation still works. Guterres emphasised the organisations successful efforts with humanitarian aid but agreed, more diplomatically, that it’s tricky to provide world security when two superpowers like China and America won’t play nice, as Russia looms in the shadows waiting to pounce.  I can’t say I envy his role. 

I didn’t become Secretary General of the UN, but I have read more Dickens. In fact, I read every night before I go to sleep. The stresses of COVID 19 are no doubt seeping into the dreams of many adults, but children also absorb the symptoms of their parents stresses. The bedtime story is a small window for a young person to be inspired, to be reminded that they’re not alone, and for them to slip from that encouraging reassurance into their dreams. Yet perhaps bedtime stories can do adults just as much good as children in the current climate. This moment when the day has ended, but before eyes are shut, is a chance to set the scene for sweeter dreams regardless of age. 

Here’s to Facey - lover of Dickens and master of the bedtime story.