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Yugoslav Mystery by Arthur Catherall

This novel is the second or third of Mr. Catherall’s young adult novels I’ve read, and I’m beginning to get a feel for his style and genre. He reminds me of the adult spy novelists Nevill Shute or Alistair MacLean, or even Helen MacInnes, but a bit more tame with teen protagonists. I would guess that boys ages 13 to 16 would find Catherall’s novels quite intriguing.

This mystery takes place on an impoverished island off the southern coast of the former Yugoslavia. It’s several years post-World War 2, but the people who live on this island are still trying to recover from the war and all of its many depredations and consequences. One of those consequences of war is that our protagonist, Josef Piri, fourteen years old, lives with his grandfather and his mother, all of them believing that Josef’s father died in the war before Josef was born.

One day while Josef and his grandfather are out fishing, a police boat comes alongside to ask if they have seen an escaped fugitive on or near the island. Josef, in fact has and does see the escapee clinging to a rope alongside the police launch, out of sight and desperate to remain so. What is the right thing to do? Remain silent and help the man escape or give him up to the authorities?

The choice Josef makes leads him and his entire island village into quite an adventure. There are guns and hidden treasure and narrow escapes and various people who are not what they seem to be. Josef must draw again and again on his courage and his innovative ideas to protect his family and the other villagers and to understand his heritage as his father’s son.

The story takes place in Communist Yugoslavia in about 1960, and it was published in 1964. The Communist government is far away in this story, and is neither praised nor criticized. The villagers, including Josef and his family, live far from the day to day reach of the government, and their lives continue with very little government interference or help. There are a couple of mentions of government aid to the villagers, but it’s not significant. And the adventure that Josef’s encounter with the police boat and the escaped fugitive brings has little or nothing to do with Communism or Marshal Tito.

The House of Sixty Fathers by Meindert DeJong

Even though all ends well, this novel, based on the author’s own experiences in China during World War II, is darker and more scary than any of the other books by DeJong that I have read.

The House of Sixty Fathers is based on Meindert DeJong’s actual experience. During World War II Mr. DeJong was official historian for the Chinese-American Composite Wing which was part of Chennault’s famous Fourteenth Air Force. A young Chinese war orphan, the Tien Pao of this story, was adopted by DeJong’s outfit. The boy chose DeJong as his special “father,” and the two were devoted to one another. Mr. DeJong wanted to bring the boy back to the United States with him, but because of legal complications, he was unable to do so. However, the men in the outfit left the youngster well provided for when they returned to America. The Communists then took over that section of China, and DeJong has never heard what happened to the boy.”

I read that note after I finished reading the novel about Tien Pao, a young Chinese boy who becomes separated from his family during the Japaneses invasion of China with only his pet pig to keep him company. Tien Pao’s story is harrowing. He becomes lost behind the Japanese lines, almost starves to death, is shot at, nearly captured, and pursued for rescuing an American flyer. Tien Pao is a very small boy lost in a sea of soldiers and refugees and casualties of war. Nevertheless, there are friends and helpers along the way: the Chinese guerrilla leader who carries Tien Pao across enemy lines, the man who pulls Tien Pao onto a train at the last minute and hides him in a tall basket, and the American airmen (Flying Tigers) who become his “sixty fathers” when Tien Pao cannot find his own parents.

It’s a war story and people are killed, but the descriptions of the war itself are not too graphic. It’s the effects of the war on the civilian population that are the focus of the story, and that part is difficult to imagine and to read about. The children, who are starving, eat grass and mud to fill their stomachs. People target Tien Pao for the sake of his pig companion, Glory-of-the-Republic, and Tien Pao struggles to keep Glory-of-the-Republic from being eaten. Refugees flee the city of Hengyang when it is taken by the Japanese, and Tien Pao is caught up in the flight of the people from the dreaded Japanese army.

If a child is looking for a war story about heroes and daring deeds, The House of Sixty Fathers might be an appropriate recommendation, even though the heroes in this story are quiet, understated heroes, and the daring deeds are ones of persistence, patience, and continued, careful resistance. Tien Pao’s story is one small slice of life in the midst of a complicated war, but it does satisfy the desire for a story of what might happen to a child caught in a war that is beyond his comprehension or control.

What can a lost boy do, other than keep trying to find his home and his parents? I do really wonder, though, what happened to the Chinese boy that Meindert DeJong and his fellow soldiers befriended in China during the war.

The Wheel on the School by Meindert DeJong

This winner of the 1955 Newbery Award Medal is a winner indeed. The children of Shora, a small village on the Netherlands coast, all six of them, realize one day that the storks never come to Shora to nest. Storks nest on the roofs of houses in other neighboring villages, but not in Shora.

So, the children, along with their schoolteacher, team up to find out why the storks don’t nest in Shora and to fix it so that they do. The project is a difficult one, and the children intend to work hard to bring the storks, or at least one stork, to Shora as the birds begin to migrate to the Netherlands from their homes in Africa. Their teacher tells them to begin by wondering:

“We can’t think much when we don’t know much. But we can wonder! From now until tomorrow morning when you come to school again, will you do that? Will you wonder why and wonder why? Will you wonder why storks don’t come to Shora to build their nests on the roof the way they do in all the villages around? For sometimes when we wonder, we can make things begin to happen.”

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Meindert DeJong has such a way with words, and the black and white drawings in this book by Maurice Sendak are just right, not too intrusive so that readers have room to wonder and create their own pictures of the story but with enough detail so that we can know what a stork looks like or what kind of wheel the children are looking for.

Such a good read aloud selection! But if you don’t have time to read it aloud, introduce the first chapter or two at least, and I believe most children would be drawn into the story. The culture is a bit different from American twenty-first century culture. The children are more “free range”, and the adults are both more irascible and more helpful and approachable than adults are in my city/suburban community. Shora is a small village, after all. But children are children everywhere, and these six Dutch children are imaginative, cooperative, and most of all persistent. And sometimes children with those qualities can make things begin to happen.

Shadow of a Bull by Maia Wojciechowska

This Newbery Award winning novel, set in Catalonia, in Spain, introduces readers to a culture and way of life that is foreign to most American children and may even be faded or fading fast in Spain itself. It’s an honor culture, and Manolo’s honor and that of his family depend on his becoming a great bullfighter like his deceased father before him.

“When Manolo was nine he became aware of three important facts in his life. First: the older he became, the more he looked like his father. Second: he, Manolo Oliver, was a coward. Third: everyone in the town of Arcangel expected him to grow up to be a famous bullfighter, like his father.”

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I wonder what it would be like to grow up in the shadow of a famous parent. I have the advantage of not knowing from experience what that would feel like. But I’m sure it must be suffocating. Shadow of a Bull shows the difficulty of such expectations as they impact the growth of a nine to eleven year old boy in a small town in Spain. But the lesson is universal. The expectations of others cannot be the determining factors in the maturing decisions of an individual. Community and culture are important, but so is individuality and one’s own moral judgment. Finding a way to reconcile a person’s own inner desires and ambitions with the expectations of community and family is one possible path to maturity.

The book is also about bull-fighting, but the bullfight is a device. Although bull-fighting is controversial—in Spanish bullfighting, the bull is almost always killed at the end of the bullfight—Shadow of a Bull never tries to make a case against bullfighting itself. All the details are there, and they are somewhat gory (animal lovers beware!), but the conflict is not Manolo against the sport of bullfighting. Manolo’s conflict is within himself: how can he prove to himself that he is not a coward and yet not be forced to become, in essence, a reincarnation of his famous father? Manolo must fight his first bull in order to show himself that he is courageous, not a slave to his fear, but if he does fight the bull, he has started down a path that will lead only to more and more bullfights, not Manolo’s goal at all.

Finally, Shadow of a Bull is a story about a boy who finds his courage to become the person he is meant to be.

Focus on Alfred the Great

I’ve now read three books, two fiction and one nonfiction, about the the life and times of Alfred the Great, King of Wessex (southern England) in the ninth century. I may not know all there is to know about Alfred, aka Aelfred, but I certainly know enough to admire and appreciate the man and his accomplishments.

I read The Namesake by C. Walter Hodges last year and skimmed it last week to compare it with the other two books. As you can tell from my review, Alfred in this book is portrayed as a Philosopher King, and I think that a fair portrayal, although he certainly knew battle tactics and politics, too.

In Eva March Tappan’s In the Days of Alfred the Great, the reader gains a lot more background about Alfred and his life and the political situation in Britain and the stories that were told about Alfred. I think I enjoyed this narrative nonfiction book even more than the two fictional treatments of Alfred’s life. I understand why the author who wished to write about Alfred the Great might choose a novel form: a lot of what is known about the man and his times is legend and story, not really verified. However, Ms. Tappan inserts dialog and story into her nonfiction narrative, making it readable, but also believable. I thought the story made Alfred come alive , and I learned a lot about “the days of Alfred the Great.” I purchased In the Days of Alfred the Great in a reprint edition from Living Book Press, and I recommend the LBP edition of this classic history book.

The third book I read, from another small publisher, Smidgen Press, is called The Lost Dragon of Wessex. It tells the story of an orphan boy who becomes involved in the struggle between the Saxons under Alfred the Great and the invading Danes. Wulf, in the beginning of the story, is a simple forest-dwelling peasant boy who has never been away from home. When Wulf meets a stranger and follows him to the court of Alfred, the boy encounters adventure and testing that will bring him into manhood and into his calling as either a soldier or a bard, or maybe both. The journeys in this story are from forest to city, from ignorance to education, from England to Sweden and back, and from boy to man, and the focus of the story is on Wulf and what Wulf learns in the court of King Alfred, not so much on the king himself or his character and battles.

So, the three books complement one another. The Namesake shows us a fictional, but noble King Alfred as he is remembered by the old man that King Alfred mentored and taught when the man, named Alfred also, was a boy. In the Days of Alfred the Great shows where Alfred came from, the stories that were told of him as a boy and as a man, and the challenges he had to face in defeating the Danes and bringing learning and books to his own people, the Saxons of Wessex. The Lost Dragon of Wessex presents us with Alfred at the height of powers and influence and shows what that influence might have been on one boy as well as on the country as a whole.

Have you read any books about Alfred the Great? What would you recommend?

The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander

Whenever I am asked for a book suggestion in the vein of or as a follow up to Narnia or Tolkien, my first question is always, “Have you read Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain Chronicles?” And yet, I haven’t read these five books in the Prydain series, beginning with The Book of Three, in many, many years. Since I am working on reading children’s books published in 1964, sixty years ago, it was definitely time for a reread: The Book of Three was first published in 1964.

I love Lloyd Alexander’s quirky, idiosyncratic characters:

  • Taran, Assistant Pig-Keeper, is the immature, rash, and bumbling sort-of-hero of the story. Well, if not the hero, at least he’s the main character, and he’s about to go on an epic hero’s journey, even if he is only an Assistant Pig-Keeper.
  • Hen Wen, the oracular pig is lost. Can the rag-tag group that gathers around Taran help him find Hen Wen and warn the good guys of impending danger?
  • Prince Gwydion, the older and true hero, still relies on Taran and his friends to help save the kingdom of Prydain from the evil Arawn and his henchman, the Horned King.
  • Eilonwy, girl child or young woman or enchantress, speaks in metaphors and similes and always keeps Taran humble with her sharp observations.
  • Fflewddur Fflam, the bard who used to be a king. His harp is magical in the music it produces and in its response to the exaggerated stories that Fflewddur tells.
  • Gurgi, beast-man or man-beast, is a brave though smelly companion whose constant talk of “crunchings and munchings” and “walkings and stalkings” and “seekings and peekings” adds a memorable bit of spice and humor to the story.
  • Doli is the irascible dwarf guide who can’t manage to turn himself invisible no matter how long and hard he holds his breath.
  • Dallben, who only enters the story at the beginning and at the end, is Taran’s wizard mentor, three hundred and seventy-nine years old and devoted to the work of meditation, “an occupation so exhausting he could accomplish it only by lying down and closing his eyes” for an hour and a half every morning and evening.

The characters and the setting are drawn from Welsh legend and mythology, just as Tolkien’s Middle Earth was taken somewhat from Norse and Finnish mythology. “Arawn, the dread Lord of Annuvin, comes from the Mabinogion, the classic collection of Welsh legends, though in Prydain he is considerably more villainous.” I think Alexander was also influenced by Tolkien, although he never says so, never even admits to having read LOTR. And the stories of Prydain are deeply influenced by the existentialism of Jean Paul Sartre; Lloyd Alexander was the first person to translate Sartre’s novel Nausea into English.

Actually, the plot is somewhat predictable: Young Taran goes on a journey with a mission to save the land of Prydain from the forces of evil. On the way he meets many obstacles and dangers but also finds unexpected helpers and friends.The evil is defeated, temporarily, but of course not conclusively, since there are four more books to come in the series. In some series this ending-not-ending would be irritating, but this story is more about the characters and their growth and the humor and the serious philosophical and even religious journey that each of them is taking. (But there is really no religion in these books. They are more existentialist, about finding out the depths of your own character and identity, but not in an annoying way?)

Anyway, I’m just now beginning my 1964 journey. I may find other books from that year that equal or even better Mr. Alexander’s first entry into the world of Prydain. But I would guess that The Book of Three will be among the top ten books of 1964, at the very least. Highly recommended.

“Most of us are called on to perform tasks far beyond what we can do. Our capabilities seldom match our aspirations, and we are often woefully unprepared. To this extent, we are all Assistant Pig-Keepers at heart.”

~Lloyd Alexander, Author’s Note at the beginning of The Book of Three

Journey From Peppermint Street by Meindert DeJong

Mr. DeJong has a talent for getting inside the mind of a child and writing about the imaginations and embarrassments and fears and delights and misapprehensions and insights that run through a child’s thoughts. In Journey From Peppermint Street, eight year old Siebren, a little Dutch boy, goes on a journey with his grandfather, and he experiences all of the above, in addition to much adventure, as we readers walk along with him on a trip from Weirom, near the coast of Holland, to his great-aunt’s monastery home near an inland swamp full of frogs and fireflies and giant pike.

At first the story seems rather mundane. Siebren walks along behind Grandfather, and Siebren’s thoughts run hither and thither. Siebren talks a lot, but he also listens carefully, although not with full understanding. When Grandfather calls the miller with whom he has been feuding “handball of Satan”, Siebren latches onto the phrase and wonders whether he himself might be a “handball of Satan” since he sometimes listens to and acts on his fears and temptations rather than his good sense. (I googled the term “handball of Satan”, but nothing came up. It must be an insult peculiar to Grandfather alone.)

The story becomes more and more exciting, however, and filled with both real and imaginary dangers: a giant pike who can eat a whole frog in one gulp, the swamp muck that can suck up and drown the unwary traveller, an attack from a pack of village dogs, a frightened neighbor with a gun, a bottomless cistern that empties out to the river, a night alone in a dark house, and last but not least, a tornado. (I didn’t know that the Netherlands even experienced tornadoes; I halfway thought tornadoes were only a peril in Kansas and the rest of the midwestern United States.) Siebren must sort out his real fears and dangers from the imaginary ones, and he must learn how adults can be trusted and whether he himself is meant to be a handball of Satan or a believer in miracles.

Journey From Peppermint Street was the winner of the National Book Award for Children’s Literature the very first time that award was given in 1969. I’m on a quest to read all of Meindert DeJong’s books for children, and so far this one is one of his best.

Content considerations: Siebren gets a spanking for disobedience from his dad at the beginning of the story. There’s the whole “handball of Satan” question and discussion. And Siebren more than once lets his imagination and curiosity run away with him, stealing cookies, disobeying his grandfather and his great-aunt several times with mixed results. Sometimes his disobedience turn out okay, and other times it gets him into trouble, which is the way it worked for me when I was an imaginative and exploring child like Siebren.

The Dream Coach by Anne Parrish

A Guest Review from Terri Shown of The Dream Coach by Anne Parrish, a 1925 Newbery Honor book.

Embark on a tranquil journey through the pages of The Dream Coach, a 1924 publication that, while potentially lulling readers into a peaceful slumber, may not resonate with every audience. Despite its promise of a celestial odyssey, the collection unfolds with narratives that are predominantly lengthy, meandering, and easily forgettable.
The initial tale, “The Seven White Dreams of the King’s Daughter,” follows the unfortunate Princess Angelica on her unhappy birthday, marred by the burdensome formalities of royal life. Witnessing her distress, an angel endeavors to uplift her spirits by bestowing seven white dreams, each portraying moments of freedom – a daisy in a field, a little white cloud in the blue sky, a lamb frolicking in lilies, a butterfly in flight, a small egg in a soft nest, and a snowflake dancing.
Next, “Goran’s Dream” unfolds in Norway, where six-year-old Goran faces solitude as he cares for the animals in his grandmother’s absence. The story takes an unusual turn as Goran’s dream, a whimsical and somewhat perplexing Alice in Wonderland-type scenario, adds a layer of complexity to his winter experience.
In “A Bird Cage With Tassels of Purple and Pearls (Three Dreams of a Little Chinese Emperor),” the Dream Coach shifts its mission, aiming to impart a lesson rather than providing comfort. The young emperor, having confined a songbird, experiences a transformative dream where he understands the hardships of captivity. Filled with newfound empathy, he releases the bird, demonstrating personal growth.
Concluding with “King” Philippe’s Dream, the narrative takes us to France, where a young boy envisions his relatives transformed into natural forces during a slumber. He dreams that all his close relations turn into forces of nature like river, rain, wind, and snow. His little cousin becomes spring and the dream goes on till he awakes to find he is back with his parents.
While the tales may not be exceptional, there’s a sweetness and a touch of exoticism that might appeal to certain readers. The charming highlight of the book, however, seems to be the black-and-white illustrations, which are visually appealing and serve as a complement to the narratives.

The Dream Coach may not captivate many modern readers. Yet, for those seeking a calming bedtime experience, there may be some enjoyment within its pages.

Theras and His Town by Caroline Dale Snedeker

This fiction book recommended for children grades 5+ begins with the author very obviously teaching her child readers about Ancient Greece and Ancient Greek culture, Athens in particular. We get short sections about how seven year old Theras of Athens goes to school, goes to the marketplace, worships Athena on the Acropolis, etc. Finally, something actually happens, and Theras is in danger. But that episode ends quickly and happily, and we are back to Theras’ daily life: Theras and his mother, Theras and his father, Theras wants to become a soldier, etc.

The book is written in three parts, and the second part is about how Theras goes to live in Sparta, obviously written to contrast life in Athens with life in Sparta. Athens is much better. Theras, and we along with him, get to experience what it’s like to be a Spartan boy. Then in part three we get a travelogue, an exciting journey but a travelogue nonetheless, through Ancient Greece with stops in Orestium, Mantinea, Corinth, the Bay of Salamis, and Eleusis before Theras and his friend Abas finally return to Athens. This third part of the book is actually the best with rather stirring adventures and mishaps and near escapes, but it still feels like a teaching book rather than a storybook.

I can see why this book is recommended in many homeschool curricula. There is a dearth of good historical fiction set in Ancient Greece. And I did enjoy learning about and being reminded of the way of life in the Greek cities of Athens and Sparta around the time of Pericles and Herodotus, who both make an appearance in the book. But to say that this book is a “living book” with excellent writing and living ideas would be a stretch. Educational, yes. Enjoyable, maybe. Life-giving, not really.

There are some ideas that parents may want to discuss with their children who are reading about Theras and Athens and Sparta and the rest. For instance, when Theras and his father visit the temple of Athena, the author tells us that the Athenians believed that Athena frequently visited and blessed her favored city of Athens and its citizens:

“All this Theras believed. But you must not think him foolish for so believing. Athena was his goddess. The wise, grown-up men in Athens believed in her, respected her, and loved her. And often they prayed to Athena so truly and thought her so good and kind that their prayers reached to the true God after all.”

I didn’t care for the pedantic style of the writing in this book, a style that I didn’t find so prominent in the other (later published) books that I have read by the same author. Theras is written for a younger audience than either The White Isle or The Forgotten Daughter, both books by Snedeker that I read and reviewed. I think Ms. Snedeker either improved in her writing skills or was just better at writing for an older audience. Theras and His Town is OK, but just not excellent or very memorable.

Red Caps and Lilies by Katharine Adams

Another book first published in 1924, Red Caps and Lilies is historical fiction set during the first days of the French Revolution. An aristocrat family attempts to come to terms with the rapid descent into chaos and revolution that begins in Paris, 1789. Soon it is obvious that thirteen year old Marie Josephine, her older brother Lisle, and their beloved maman, along with servants and relatives and friends and other various and sundry folk, must flee Paris and even France to ensure their own safety. But who will help them? Whom can they trust? And will they be betrayed by their own pride and disbelief that their lives could possibly be in danger in the first place?

I could quibble with this historical novel from another generation. The plot is a little creaky at times, with lots of unexpected meetings and paths crossing at just the right time. The events of the family’s escape are told and then retold and retold again as the family gathers and each one recounts his adventures to the others. Some character growth is evident in Lisle, the proud aristocratic teen, who is humbled by his experiences, and in Grigge, the peasant who has good reason to hate the aristocratic family but finds reason to help them anyway, All in all, though it’s a harmless little story with a fairly happy ending.

I guess I’ve become accustomed, for better or for worse, to something a little more ambiguous and and a little more unpredictable. I knew from the beginning, or at least near the beginning, that the family would escape and that all would turn out well. There was just no real suspense in the story, even though I think the author tried to create some. Still, if you want a historical novel that give a young adult reader some introduction to the time of the French Revolution with good and noble characters and a few daring escapes, you could do worse than reading about these French “lilies” cast out to fend for themselves among the “red caps” of the mobs of Paris.

You can read this “oldie but goodie” on Internet Archive if your library doesn’t give you access to a copy.