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The Strange Intruder by Arthur Catherall

I’ve heard of Arthur Catherall as an author of children’s or young adult fiction, but I’ve always thought of him, without having read any of his books, as a sort of minor, second rate, potboiler fiction writer. Sorry, Mr. Catherall. If The Strange Intruder is a good example of the rest of Catherall’s work, he’s actually a first rate adventure writer. Maybe I had that potboiler idea because Catherall was so prolific: he wrote dozens of books using his own name and dozens more using seven different pseudonyms. Busy man.

Anyway, The Strange Intruder is a coming of age story about a sixteen year old boy, Sven Klakk, who lives on the island of Mykines in the Faroe Islands. You might need a map to locate that island exactly in your mind (I did), but it’s generally northwest of Scotland and the Shetland Islands and west of Norway, southeast of Iceland in the North Sea. In my 50 cent Archway paperback copy of the book there is a handy-dandy map, so there probably will be one in yours, too, whatever copy you end up reading.

Catherall “voyaged to the Faroe Islands, the locale of this story, and spent some time there, getting to know the islanders and their way of life.” This familiarity with the setting shows in the descriptions of not only the flora and fauna of the island, but also the way the people talk, and work, and make decisions, and form their community life. Of course, I was reminded of the TV series Shetland, with the Shetland Islands nearby, but this island Mykines in the 1960’s, is its own place with its own remote and closely bound culture and way of life.

“A reign of terror grips a storm-lashed island.” There is storm and shipwreck and peril and a big surprise that leads to even more danger and peril, and I can’t say much more for fear of spoiling the story. But just know that you won’t encounter any political agendas or preaching or morals to the story—just pure adventure and suspense and character growth and wildness. I recommend this book, and on the strength of this one, you might want to at least check out Catherall’s many other stories, too.

The Boy Whaleman by George Fox Tucker

In searching for children’s books published 100 years ago in 1924, I found a set of three books called The Three Owls, edited by New York Public Library children’s librarian Anne Carroll Moore. In these three volumes Ms. Moore collected various thoughts, essays, and booklists, written by herself and others, related to the children’s literature of her day. In the first volume of The Three Owls, a children’s author named Henry Beston (later to become husband to children’s author Elizabeth Coatsworth) reviews The Boy Whaleman, saying, “Of all the accounts of whaling voyages I have read for some time, quite the best is this boy’s book by George F. Tucker. It is the record of a youngster’s one cruise in an old-time whaler, which was rather a decent ship as whalers go.”

Mr. Beston and I are in agreement, not that I have read that many accounts of whaling voyages to compare. The book is more of a travelog than a story, although travel is not quite the word for the experience of a sailor who took ship on a whaler. More appropriate terms come to mind: hard work, danger, adventure, or “stink, grease, and backache” as the description of a whaleman’s work went at the time. The book takes place in the early 1860’s as the boy Homer Bleechly, age fifteen, takes ship from New Bedford, Massachusetts on the whaler, Seabird. He will be eighteen and a man by the time he returns to his home in New Bedford.

“My father, when a young man, went whaling for a single voyage which lasted for more than three years. He was a sailor, or, to use the regular phrase, a foremast hand, and at the end of two years, he became a boat-steerer or a harpooner. When I was a little boy he used to take me on his knee and tell me stories about the life of the whalemen, –of chasing whales and harpooning them, of angry whales smashing boats and chewing them to bits; of towing whales to the ship and cutting them in and trying them out; of losing the ship and remaining all might in the open boats; of encountering great storms and riding them out in safety; of meeting after many months another New Bedford vessel, and getting the latest news from home; and of visiting in the Pacific Ocean islands inhabited by savages.”

All these stories from Homer’s father are a foreshadowing of almost exactly what happens to Homer Bleechly on the Seabird, and Homer narrates his voyage with gusto and with much intelligent detail about the life of a whaleman. Some parents may cringe at the gory descriptions of slippery blood and guts covering the ship’s deck, of plunging a harpoon into the whale’s eye, or of scooping the spermaceti out of the whale’s head cavity. But a young person who is hungry for adventure can take these things in stride just as Homer apparently did. There are also mentions of the South Sea islanders as savages and uncivilized and of cannibalism both in the islands and in sailor stories that Homer and the others tell each other, but these things are not dwelt upon.

The work and culture of a whaling ship are the main focus of the book, and the story is somewhat slight in comparison to the details about the sea, the lore of whales, seamanship, financial matters in regard to whaling, and Homer’s shipmates in forecastle. It’s something of a coming of age story, but again the emphasis is not on Homer himself but rather on the Seabird and its job and the events of the voyage.

Reading this book made me want to read more about so many things: Tahiti, whales, Commodore Perry, whaling and seagoing, Captain Cook and his voyages, the Essex, the Bounty mutiny, Pitcairn Island, whale ships, missionaries to Polynesia and Micronesia, Magellan, the opening of Japan to Western influence, ambergris, and much more. I have a whole list of books to read next, but, alas, not enough time to read them all in addition to my many other reading projects.

The Pearl Lagoon by Charles Nordhoff

What are boys (and girls) reading in the way of adventure stories these days? Most of the the realistic fiction I read these days for middle grade readers is “problem fiction”: mom is sinking into depression and the child must cope with the fallout, or the main character is autistic or has a learning disability, or the bad developers are going to turn the local park into a parking lot. Nothing wrong with that, but where’s the adventure? Many young readers are into fantasy fiction, which does have the adventure element, but it’s not usually an adventure that the reader can imagine participating in himself.

Well, the novels of yesteryear for young people were full of adventure. Sure some of the adventures required a suspension of disbelief, as does this 1924 novel, The Pearl Lagoon. Nevertheless, excitement and danger used to be abundant in fiction written for young people. In The Pearl Lagoon, Charlie Selden, the protagonist and narrator, is an all-American boy of sixteen, living on a California ranch, isolated and starved for adventure, when his Uncle Harry, “a buyer of copra and pearl-shell in the South Seas,” comes along with an offer that can’t be refused. Uncle Harry wants to take Charlie back to the island of Iriatai in the South Pacific, to help him hunt for pearls in Iriatai Lagoon.

Needless to say, Charlie jumps at the chance to go with Uncle Harry, and the adventure begins. The book includes fishing trips with Charlie’s new Tahitian friend, Marama, a boar hunt, a near-deadly shark attack, some rather perilous pearl diving, exploration of a hidden cave, and a climactic encounter with pirates who intend to steal all of the pearls the divers have found. Charlie grows older and wiser over the course of a life changing and thrilling experience.

The South Sea islander characters in the story are portrayed as “noble savages.” If the musical South Pacific and other stories of that nature are offensively “colonizing” to you, then Nordhoff’s 1924 vintage portrayal of the islands and their culture and people will be, too. Charlie says of his friend Marama,

“My friend could read and write, but otherwise he had no education in our sense of the word. He knew nothing of history, algebra, or geometry, but his mind was a storehouse of complex fishing-lore, picked up unconsciously since babyhood and enabling him to provide himself and his family with food. And when you come to think of it, that is one of the purposes of all education.”

The people of Tahiti and Iriatai are described variously as natives, savages, brown, formerly heathen, and superstitious. But they are also admired for their skill, courage, honesty, and loyalty. Charlie’s uncle, like the author Nordhoff, has come to think of Tahiti as his home, “the most beautiful thing in all the world.” You can read the book and decide for yourself whether Nordhoff shows love and respect for the Tahitian and other South Sea island peoples or not. I believe he does, and I recommend the book as a stirring romantic adventure, in the best sense of the word romance. (Romance, according to Sir Walter Scott, the great romantic novelist: “a fictitious narrative in prose or verse; the interest of which turns upon marvellous and uncommon incidents.”)

The Pearl Lagoon is marvelous, and uncommon, indeed.

The Black Pearl by Scott O’Dell

I just finished reading The Black Pearl, a Newbery Honor book published in 1967. I’m trying to decide what I think. It takes place in Mexico, Baja California, and it’s very Catholic as would be appropriate for the setting. In the story, which is something of a fairy tale about a boy and the Monster Manta Diablo, the Madonna of the Sea is a direct representative of or substitute for God Himself, which bothers my Protestant brain. But it’s a good and well written fairy tale or folk tale about the dangers of pride and hubris and the mystery of God’s (or the Madonna’s?) will and working in the world.

The protagonist, Ramon Salazar, is sixteen years old and concerned about becoming a man. The coming of age theme is huge in this story. The Black Pearl, or the Pearl of Heavens as it is also named, is something of a MacGuffin, sought, found, given away, stolen, lost again, and replaced, all over the course of 140 pages of the book. The real story is about what’s going on inside Ramon, and his father, and Ramon’s enemy, Gaspar Ruiz the Sevillano. Ramon wants to go pearl diving, something his father has never allowed him to do, and he dreams of finding the largest and most valuable pearl of all, the Pearl of Heaven. (In fact, I think the book should have been called The Pearl of Heaven instead of The Black Pearl, but they didn’t ask me.) Diving for pearls is dangerous, however, and one of the most dangerous creatures in the sea is the manta, also known as a manta ray or devilfish.

We are told that the manta, especially The Manta Diablo, is a huge monster creature that has the power to swallow up an entire ship and that it is a “creature of beauty and of evil whom only two have seen with their eyes.” Ramon tells the reader in the beginning of the story that he is one of the two who have seen The Manta Diablo.

This book reminded me of Steinbeck’s The Pearl and of The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. But the similarities in setting and tone are superficial, I think. It’s been a long time since I read The Pearl. I don’t know exactly what I thin of this one. I sort of liked it. It’s about how the intent of the gift matters. A sacrifice or offering given out of spite and and in an attempt to buy God’s favor is wrong. But a gift given in adoration and gratitude is accepted. That part rings true. I wouldn’t suggest it for middle grade children, but older teens might enjoy puzzling out the meaning of this tale and engaging in the adventure.

Jim Grey of Moonbah by Reginald Ottley

I happen to be reading Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson right now, and the connections between Stevenson’s tale of a orphaned young man out seeking his fortune and getting into trouble and Ottley’s story of young Jim Grey are inescapable. Jim Grey and David Balfour are two innocents, one Australian and one Scottish, who are drawn into danger and crime through the evil machinations of a trusted mentor, yes, but also each as a result of his own foolishness and ambition.

Let’s concentrate on Jim Grey in this review. (I’ll write about Mr. Balfour in another review, when I’ve actually finished the book.) Fifteen year old Jim Grey is not an orphan, but his father has recently died, and Jim is feeling somewhat adrift. He has the advantage of a strong and loving mother and a sheep station (ranch), Moonbah, to call home. Yet Jim is restless, missing his father and wondering for the first time in his life what it would be like to travel and see the world. The adolescent Jim is easy prey for Russ Medway, a stranger who shows up at Moonbah on his way to . . . somewhere better. Russ is friendly, personable, and eager to help Jim and his mother with tasks that need to be done on the sheep station–for a little while before he moves on to greener pastures.

It’s easy for the reader to see that Jim is looking for a father figure, or at least an older brother figure, to replace his dad. Jim even tries to convince himself at one point that Russ reminds him of his father. But he has to admit to himself after only a minute’s thought, “I’m mad to think they’re alike. . . But there you are. It’s just in odd ways that Russ reminds me of Dad, I suppose. Or maybe I’m seeing’ things. Things that ain’t really there.” Indeed, in classic Eve-like innocence, Jim is drawn into listening to and following a liar and a crook instead of remembering his dad and choosing good.

The Australian setting for this story is fascinating, and the slang is not too thick for a non-Aussie to penetrate. Reginald Ottley was born in London and ran away to sea when he was fourteen, so it seems likely that some of what Jim experiences and learns comes from Ottley’s own personal experience. Ottley also worked on a cattle station in Australia, so he knew the country and its people.

This book would be such a good cautionary and adventure tale for adolescent boys. Jim, too, wants adventure and feels the pull of home duties and responsibilities against the lure of freedom and wanderlust. The story is never explicitly didactic, but it does indeed teach lessons. “Not all that glitters is gold.” “A wise son listens to his father’s advice.” “The best journey takes you home.”

The Forgotten Daughter by Caroline Dale Snedeker

If The Forgotten Daughter were published now, instead of in 1927, it would probably be classified as Young Adult, at least in terms of interest level. The story takes a young Greek slave girl from age twelve to seventeen as she grows up in Samnium, southern Italy, on a Roman farm villa in the second century B.C. Chloe, the slave girl, lives in a hut on the mountainside with her guardian, an older woman named Melissa. Chloe’s mother is dead, and her father, the Roman patrician and owner of the villa whom she hates, deserted her mother before Chloe was born. The first part of the book deals with the back story behind the marriage of Chloe’s parents and Chloe’s birth and enslavement.

Although The Forgotten Daughter was a Newbery Honor book, I can’t imagine anyone younger than 12 or 13 being able to read the book with enjoyment and appreciation. It took several chapters for me as an adult to be able to follow the plot and understand the deeply religious, cultural, and philosophical meanderings that the author indulges. I did eventually enjoy the insight into Roman culture and law and religion, but it took some mental adjustment to understand the purpose of the descriptions and explanations of Roman superstition, Greek religious practice, Stoicism, and Roman politics, among other subjects. (It was a bit reminiscent of Victor Hugo, Les Miserables, and the sewers of Paris, but not nearly as long as Hugo’s digressions.)

The story is a romance, but a chaste one, although there is some kissing mentioned. It’s also a story of redemption and of freedom from the bondage of hatred and of forgiveness. The author paints a vivid and memorable picture of ancient Roman family life and politics, mentioning or invoking Sappho, Plato, Euripides, the Grachi, Plutarch, and many other Roman and Greek politicians and philosophers and playwrights. Chloe grows up isolated on her father’s Roman farm property, but the politics of Rome impact her life in unexpected ways. Her journey from slavery to freedom mirrors her internal journey from hatred to forgiveness, and it’s all accomplished within a pre-Christian religious and philosophical environment that feels very true and well-researched.

Charlotte Mason educators who are following her advice and reading Plutarch with their students would find this story full of connections and insights. I recommend it for philosophical girls and stoical boys and interested adults. Available from Bethlehem Books.

The Tripods Trilogy by John Christopher

  • The White Mountains by John Christopher, 1967.
  • The City of Gold and Lead by John Christopher, 1967.
  • The Pool of Fire by John Christopher, 1968.
  • There was also a prequel, When the Tripods Came, published in 1988.

John Christopher is a pseudonym for British author Sam Youd, who wrote a multitude of novels and short stories for both adults and children, mostly speculative fiction, although he says in this 2009 interview that he “outgrew science fiction” before he became successful at writing it.

Christopher/Youd’s most famous books are these three, written for children and young adults, about a post-apocalyptic society in Europe in which a species from another planet, called the Tripods and the Masters, have subjugated the entire Earth and almost all its inhabitants. A small group of people in the mountains of Switzerland have managed to remain free and form a resistance group. And in the White Mountains our narrator and hero, Will Parker, is determined to join the resistors before he is “capped” and made a slave to the Tripods on his fourteenth birthday.

Boys Life, the monthly magazine of the Boy Scouts of America, serialised all three books in the trilogy from May 1981 to August 1986. The BBC started making a TV series based on the books, but it only lasted through the first two before it was cancelled. The books are well known in sci-fi circles, but they have fallen out of fashion in our dystopian, high fantasy influenced, somewhat violence-laden twenty-first century science fiction reading tastes.

These books are not so much dystopian as they are post-apocalyptic. Nobody mistakenly thinks they have created the ideal world only to find out they are sadly mistaken. The people of Earth have been tricked into believing that this world is all there is, that slavery to the Tripods is inevitable and probably for the best. At least there is no war because the Tripods won’t allow it. But even in the beginning of the first book, The White Mountains, there are hints that the ancestors of these people had technology and comforts that would be useful and life-enhancing. And to all but those whose minds are capped and controlled by the Tripods, it should be obvious that the coming of the Tripods was an apocalyptic event, an invasion that made the world a worse place to live, not better.

These books definitely reminded me of the sixties with themes of the unity of all mankind, the power of technology, mind control, meeting with and understanding (or misunderstanding) alien species, and freedom fighters. I thought of Star Trek with its similar concerns and themes. Although the story holds up well, the ending of the last book is a little sad and wistful in its recognition of human dissension and and its rather forlorn hope for a future of of love, peace, and unity. Again, very sixties and “all we need is love” and “give peace a chance.”

Anyone interested in vintage science fiction and apocalyptic fiction, alien invasions, and the history of the genre, would definitely enjoy this trilogy. I probably read these books for the first time about fifty years ago, and I remembered my enjoyment of them, if not particular plot points. This time around reading Mr. Christopher’s stories was a good way to start out my reading year.

The Door of No Return by Kwame Alexander

  • This book is marketed as middle grade fiction, perhaps because the author’s previous books were mostly middle grade verse novels, but I believe this particular historical fiction verse novel falls firmly into the Young Adult genre and maturity level. It includes horrific violence, war, and sexual assault, and even though these things are true to the time and setting and are not gratuitously described, they are present and central to the story. Caveat emptor.
  • I don’t care for verse novels. I chafe at the constrictions of writing (and reading) narrative/story in a series of free verse poems. The writing of a story in the form of a series of short poems seems choppy and incomplete to me. Write a novel, or write poems, or even a long narrative poem, but don’t try to combine them.
  • Nevertheless, as verse novels go, this one was a well-written one. There were some striking images, and the story managed to come through in spite of the limitations of the form.
  • So, The Door of No Return is a book that I would recommend to older teens and adults as a window into African/Ashanti history and the history of African slavery. I do believe that it is well-researched and valuable as a window into the origins and horror of African slavery in the nineteenth century.

With those initial thoughts given, The Door of No Return is a Young Adult verse novel set in 1860’s Ghana among the Ashanti people of that area. In the fictional region of Upper Kwanta, eleven year old Kofi lives in a village with his family and enjoys hanging out with his best friend Ebo, the stories of his grandfather Nana Mosi, his flirtation with his cousin Ana, and swimming in the river Offin. He does NOT enjoy his cousin who bullies and teases him, his teacher Mr. Goodluck Phillip who thinks learning the Queen’s English is the path to future success, or the rule that says he must never swim in the river at night.

When Kofi’s brother accidentally becomes the victim of old animosities and horrific injustice, Kofi is caught up in the violence and injustice himself. And thereby Kofi has his first direct encounter with “the wonderfuls” (white men) who perpetrate the greatest injustice of all–kidnapping and slavery.

This story is an indictment of war and greed and enslavement and hatred carried across generations. In the afterword, Mr. Alexander says that this was a hard book to write, and it is also a hard book to read.I want to deny the fact that these things happened, but I cannot. I wish that the book had been written in narrative prose with detailed descriptions of Kofi’s village and his life there. But I really wouldn’t wish for any more details than are already present in the book about the suffering and cruelty that Kofi experiences. So, maybe a verse novel was the best way to go.

Highly recommended for older teens and adults, poetry lovers, historical fiction fans, and readers concerned with the issues of injustice, hope, and endurance.

Retelling a Classic Story for Young Adults

Sometimes an author loves a classic story so much that he or she takes that fandom and makes it into something brand new, not exactly fan fiction, but close. In the following books, the affinity for old books and authors is evident, but the story itself is something new and surprising.

A Secret Princess by Margaret Stohl and Melissa de la Cruz. Riffing on the novels of Frances Hodgson Burnett—Little Lord Fauntleroy, The Secret Garden, and A Little Princess, all three–A Secret Princess has characters Sara Crewe, Mary Lennox, and Cedric Erroll all together as students and friends at Ms. Minchin’s boarding school. Some elements of the story are a little weird, such as the rule that parents are only allowed to visit on one day once a year. What kind of school has a rule like that? Well, of course, a very bad school with things to hide. And Sara Crewe in this story is a Filipina girl, which is fine but over-emphasized. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the story. No ugly language or sex, but racism is a problem. If you like Burnett’s novels, you’ll probably like this Young Adult update.

The Wonderland Trials by Sara Ella. Semicolon review here. Recommended YA.

Goblin Market by Diane Zahler. Not exactly a retelling, but this rather spooky story is “rich world-building inspired by both Polish folklore and the poetry of Christina Rossetti,” namely the eponymous poem, Goblin Market. Which is a bit of a problem. The audience for this one is said to be ages 8-12, grades 4-6. Minka and Lizzie are . . . older than twelve. And the basic plot is about how Minka is seduced by a boy in the market who gives her luscious fruit and induces her to follow him into the dark forest to marry him. And how Lizzie saves Minka. It’s the same problem that first appeared in Rossetti’s poem:

Goblin Market (composed in April 1859 and published in 1862) is a narrative poem by Christina Rossetti. The poem tells the story of Laura and Lizzie who are tempted with fruit by goblin merchants. In a letter to her publisher, Rossetti claimed that the poem, which is interpreted frequently as having features of remarkably sexual imagery, was not meant for children. However, in public Rossetti often stated that the poem was intended for children, and went on to write many children’s poems. 

~Wikipedia

I might share this story with a twelve year old, but no one younger. It’s well written, remarkably disturbing, and ends well. However, it’s a bit much for most eight year olds.

Bargain Bride by Evelyn Sibley Lampman

I’ll just share the publisher’s (Purple House Press) disclaimer at the beginning of this review to get that off the table:

This book, written 45 years ago, tells the story of a young girl and her experiences in the Oregon Territory during the 19th century. An excellent storyteller, Evelyn SIbley Lampman provides the reader with the opportunity to explore this time and place through the eyes of the main character, including social customs, religious beliefs, and racial relations. Many aspects of life at that time are foreign and sometimes offensive to us now including specific customs, practices, beliefs, and words. To maintain and provide historical accuracy and to allow a true representation of this time period, words such as Indian, Injuns, savage, colored, and Negro have not been removed or edited.

So, Ginny is ten years old, living in Oregon Territory with her miserly and cruel distant cousins when she is sold into marriage to Mr. Mayhew, a man at least thrice her age. The marriage won’t be consummated until Ginny is fifteen at which time her kindly, but old, husband has promised to have a fine house built for her. When Mr. Mayhew comes to claim Ginny on her fifteenth birthday, it’s clear that he’s a kind man who has kept his promise to make a home for Ginny, but still Ginny is terrified, only sure that anything is better than living with Cousin Mattie and Cousin Beau.

Things go from bad to worse (or better?) when Ginny and her new husband get to their flourishing farm only to have Mr. Mayhew fall dead of a stroke. So Ginny is left with a rich farmstead and a whole train of suitors who can’t wait to offer their strength and protection to the wealthy young widow. Ginny has more important worries than finding a new husband, however. What if Cousin Mattie and Cousin Beau move into her house and take over as they are trying to do? Can Ginny stop them? What’s to be done about the Indian (Molalla) woman who’s living in the smokehouse in back? What will the townspeople think of a fifteen year old widow living alone on the farm? But who can Ginny find to stay with her other than that harridan, Cousin Mattie?

Many of the characters in this novel certainly are prejudiced, pig-headed, and close-minded. And that’s just the “good guys”, including Ginny herself at times. The cousins, the “bad guys” in the story are worse. Still, the people of the town and Ginny’s neighbors are generous, welcoming, and consistently helpful to Ginny as she learns to make a life for herself on the Oregon frontier. Their relationships with the Native Americans in the area are complicated, and this story presents some of those complications with all the nuance and compassion possible in a short young adult novel. None of the characters is completely right or completely wrong (except maybe Cousin Mattie). Some are more prejudiced than others. Some learn, like Ginny, to accept the Molalla people, even though Ginny never does completely understand their culture and actions.

At any rate, this young adult novel, and I think it is indeed young adult, maybe ages 13 and up, raises lots of good questions. What is marriage, and why is it important? Are economic reasons sufficient to make a good marriage? Are we so sure that romantic love is the only basis for a sound marriage? How old is old enough to be and adult? What if one is forced into adulthood? How do we begin to understand and value people from a completely background or culture other than our own? What if we can’t communicate? What if they don’t seem to value us or want to communicate? How do we confront racism and prejudice? Can you talk someone out of their prejudices?

I found this novel to be thought-provoking and compelling. I’m thankful that Purple House Press was able to reprint it, along with three more of Ms. Lampman’s novels: The Shy Stegosaurus of Cricket Creek, Three Knocks on the Wall, and The City Under the Back Steps. You can purchase all four books from PHP, or you check them out from my library, Meriadoc Homeschool Library.