‘It’s never too late to start again’ is children’s author Michael Morpurgo’s bullish approach to life and at 80 he is “getting notions” he never had before.
“I think the more adventurous you get as you get older, the longer you will probably live,” the prolific writer of “around 150 books” – and counting - announces chirpily down the phone from his home in Devon.
“I started to write poetry in my seventies after being asked to write poems for a musical carnival of animals. I love finding new things – and I particularly love it when other people suggest them.”
And that, he tells me, chuckling heartily, was how he obtained his full War Horse costume and became an occasional actor in the National Theatre’s global smash hit based on his 1982 children’s book of the same name.
Apparently, a member of the cast “quite early on” suggested he walk on and join the chorus of War Horse anonymously, as that would be a bit of fun, wouldn’t it? Of course it would, the mischievous Morpurgo agreed, and so, with the blessing of the director, he started to occasionally sneak on stage and do a turn as a singing peasant farmer.
“I’ve done it a dozen, 20 times maybe, in places all over the world,” he enthuses, “and the really lovely thing is the way each time I go to a new place, they give me a bit of costume – I have a jacket from New York, a pair of socks from London... I have my full costume now hanging up in my wardrobe and it’s wonderful.
“My mum was an actor, my dad was an actor. I don’t know why I wasn’t – no, I do know why... I didn’t have the courage at a certain point. I mean, it’s the bravest thing in the world, isn’t it? To walk out there on to a stage and do it. I am in awe of the whole thing.”
I am so excited that War Horse is finally coming to Northern Ireland, it should have been there years ago, I don’t know what happened, but I promise you, it’s not my fault
— Michael Morpurgo
We are chatting in honour of War Horse having been confirmed for Northern Ireland next year – a delayed premiere which seems to perplex the award-winning author and sometime peasant farmer greatly.
“I am so excited that War Horse is finally coming to Northern Ireland,” he says, “but, it should have been there years ago. I don’t know what happened, but I promise you, it’s not my fault. I can’t say if I will make it on stage in Belfast – but if you hear a peasant farmer singing out of tune, that will probably be me.”
Adapted by Nick Stafford and originally directed by Marianne Elliot and Tom Morris, War Horse - which follows the story of a young boy called Albert and his horse, Joey, during the First World War - has become the most successful play in the history of the National Theatre, winning more than 25 major awards and garnering critical and public acclaim for its groundbreaking puppetry.
“After all these years, I am still very excited about War Horse on stage,” enthuses the former Children’s Laureate (2003-2005) whose war adventure story was first turned down by Puffin Books.
“I love it when stories develop into something else – the theatre shines a new light on the story and gives it a new form, a new shape, just like the individual reader shines a new light and indeed, casts shadows, because it’s our own experience of joys and sadness that we bring to books that make them come alive and become a personal experience.”
Before “starting again” and going to university and then into teaching, he spent a short time in the army, an experience that taught him a little of the “mindset, the camaraderie, that sort of thing”, but it was two chance encounters – one with a war veteran and another with a troubled nine-year-old boy on a visit to his Devon Farms for City Children charity that really brought War Horse to life in a book.
“I was a war baby – I was born in 1943 - so my first memories were of a city bombed,” recalls Sir Michael (he was knighted in 2017), who first started writing children’s stories while teaching.
“I grew up in London and played in bomb sites – I saw wounded soldiers begging - the horrors of war were all around me. Then, when my wife Clare and I moved to Devon to set up our charity, Farms for City Children, I met a war veteran, Wilf Ellis, in my local pub who told me of the horrors he had actually experienced and how the only way he could cope was by talking to his horse.
“Later, I saw this actually happen – the empathy and interaction between human and horse – when a young boy from Birmingham came to the farm in Devon. He had a problem with speech and had never spoken a word. Then, one evening I came in to read a story to the children as I always did, and I saw him talking to Hebe the horse.
It is important for young readers to recognise the stupidity, the wickedness, the idiocy of war, just by reading the story – it is really about empathy and understanding
— Michael Morpurgo
“There was this flow of words, no hesitancy or anything. What I could see was affection and trust – and it worked two ways. This horse, I could tell, was listening.
“It came alive to me then, what Wilf Ellis had done with that horse, and it made me want to tell the story from the point of view of the horse without it being ridiculous.
“I wanted to follow the story of the First World War, not from one side, but from all sides, and I now had a neutral observer to do it through with the horse.”
With horrific images of war in Ukraine and Gaza flashing up on our television screens daily, he thinks it more important than ever for children to read stories about war: “It is a difficult topic, as we don’t want to traumatise children, but I write about war because I think it’s important for every new generation - because if we don’t address the subject, we don’t realise the consequences and we simply repeat what has happened before,” he says.
“The other thing is, that when I am telling these stories, they always end positively. It is important for young readers to recognise the stupidity, the wickedness, the idiocy of war, just by reading the story – it is really about empathy and understanding; about what it is like for people going through this stuff.”
Two new books are soon to hit the shelves – Finding Alfie (published by Scholastic) about a soldier on D-Day and Cobweb (HarperCollins) about drovers – and a dog called Cobweb – set in 1815 England near the end of the Napoleonic wars.
“I still love writing stories and now, at 80 years old, I love the fact the stories will live on beyond me and be passed down the generations, to the great-grandchildren now,” he adds cheerfully, before pausing to holler up the stairs to ask Clare how many great-grandchildren, exactly?
“Let’s get this right... hang on,” he hesitates and I can almost hear him counting. Then, “Three” comes back as the final answer. “Ah, that’s the other thing about being 80 – numbers are a bit difficult.”
