Archives

Prairie Fires by Caroline Fraser

Feb27

I just finished reading Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilder by Caroline Fraser, and although I think the biographer has some underlying assumptions and biases about politics and history that I would not agree with, I still recommend the book. I thought it quite insightful, and it provided background and details that I did not know before about Ms. Wilder’s life.

The book spends as much time on the biography of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s only surviving child, Rose Lane Wilder, as it does on Laura’s life. Perhaps because their lives were so intertwined, the daughter and the mother come across as enmeshed in a somewhat dysfunctional relationship that nevertheless produced several wonderful and classic books. In spite of Rose’s mostly negative influence, Laura Ingalls Wilder’s philosophy of life shines through the books. Garth Williams, the second and most famous illustrator of the Little House books, wrote this about Ms. Wilder after meeting her on her farm in Missouri:

She understood the meaning of hardship and struggle, of joy and work, of shyness and bravery. She was never overcome by drabness or squalor. She never glamorized anything; yet she saw the loveliness in everything. 

Prairie Fires, p. 263-264

The same could not be said for her daughter.

In fact, even though I read A Wilder Rose: Rose Wilder Lane, Laura Ingalls Wilder, and their Little Houses by Susan Wittig Albert, a fictionalized account of Laura Ingalls Wilder and her daughter Rose and their somewhat stormy collaboration in writing the Little House books, and I knew that Rose was a difficult person, I didn’t really realize how very unstable she was. Fraser blames Rose’s outbursts and tantrums and trail of broken relationships on childhood trauma and possible mental illness. However, the childhood trauma rationale seems like an excuse rather than a reason. Laura Ingalls Wilder, the mother, endured much more and much worse than Rose ever did, and Laura, while not a perfect person, was certainly more mentally stable and plain likable than Rose ever was.

So, partly because of what I read in this biography, I am considering removing the two books (of three that he wrote) that I have in my library by Roger Lea MacBride, fictionalized sequels to the Little House books about Rose Wilder Lane’s childhood in Missouri. MacBride was Rose Wilder Lane’s protege and heir, and he seems to have been something of a sycophant and a leech. I don’t know that there’s anything wrong with his books, but I also don’t know that they are worth keeping. Perhaps I should pass them on to someone else. I haven’t read the books by MacBride, and since people occasionally ask for them and I got them donated, I added them to the library. But now, I’m wondering. Has anyone here read the MacBride books? Are they well written? Worth keeping?

The Darkness and the Dawn by Thomas B. Costain

Nov2

I also developed a great taste for all the fiction I could get about the ancient world: Quo Vadis, Darkness and Dawn, The Gladiators, Ben Hur. It might be expected that this arose out of my new concern for my religion, but I think not. Early Christians came into many of these stories, but they were not what I was after. I simply wanted sandals, temples, togas, slaves, emperors, galleys, amphitheatres; the attraction, as I now see, was erotic, and erotic in rather a morbid way. And they were mostly, as literature, rather bad books. 

~C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy

I’m not sure what Lewis meant by “erotic”. Perhaps he simply meant sensationalist or appealing to the emotions. I’m not at all sure any of these novels could be called erotic in the same sense as 50 Shades of Grey is erotic, but perhaps I’m not picking up on some nuance of the definition of the word. At any rate, C.S. Lewis didn’t think The Darkness and the Dawn was a terribly good book, and I tend to agree with him. But still, it was an interesting look at a time and a place about which there is very little historical fiction to be read.

The book features horses, battles, Roman legions, Attila the Hun, a girl with golden hair, and a hero who fights to win her. If it reminded me of anything I had read before, it was Stephen Lawhead’s Byzantium, a book with many of the same themes and a similar setting (Europe, Dark Ages) minus Attila aka the Scourge of God. There’s a lot scheming, political plotting, battles, narrow escapes, rebellion, and romance as well as all of the things that Lewis mentions as attractions for his teenage reading life.

The Romans are predictably decadent and ripe for being conquered. Attila is portrayed as a shrewd but barbaric and harsh king, out to conquer the world and subject all men to his bidding. (As an aside, I don’t really understand why power is such an addictive narcotic. Why did Attila, Alexander, Julius Caesar and countless others want to rule the world? Why doesn’t Donald Trump just resign? I think I would just quit at some point, but maybe that’s because I’ve never had enough power for it to go to my head.)

Nicolan, the hero of the story, begins as the son of a back country horse breeder, is sold into slavery, and becomes the trusted and gifted advisor to Attila himself. At a critical juncture in the story, Nicolan embraces his Christian heritage and struggles with what that commitment means to his desire for revenge and his place as a military advisor. If you have ” a taste for all the fiction . . . about the ancient world,” you could do worse than pick up The Darkness and the Dawn, not an enduring classic literary novel, but a decent read nevertheless. And it’s not really “erotic” so don’t go in expecting that.

The Borrowed House by Hilda van Stockum

Oct10

Janna is proud of her membership in the Hitler Youth. She’s proud of her parents, famous actors, who have left Janna in Germany while they tour and entertain the troops of the Reich. Janna is also proud of having been chosen to play Brunhilde in the upcoming play that her youth group is going to perform, the story of Siegfried and Brunhilde from Hitler’s favorite opera by Wagner. Most of all, Janna is proud to be German and Aryan, and not a member of those inferior Jewish or Slavic races.

The Borrowed House is a young adult story, not because it’s about a teenager; Janna is only twelve years old in the book. And it’s not YA because of explicit sex or even violence, although there is some of the latter as the author describes the violence against Jews and others in Holland where Janna goes to join her parents. The Borrowed House is YA because it deals with mature themes of racism and indoctrination and trust and adultery in a way that is nuanced and complicated and respectful of the maturity of its audience. Janna is an unusual twelve year old, and she sees and understands things that most twelve year olds wouldn’t even think about. And there is a developing romance between twelve year old Janna and an older resident of the borrowed house that Janna and her parents live in. Nothing explicit or illicit, but the romantic subtext is there.

Maybe you should read this one yourself before handing it to your child, because first of all, it won’t be the right book for every young person. And secondly, The Borrowed House is one of those rare novels that adults can appreciate just as well as teens can. The book gives a lot insight into the way the German civilians looked at the war and at Herr Hitler as well as the privations and persecution and courage of the Dutch and Jewish people in Holland during World War II.

Republished by Purple House Press in 2016, this World War II novel is an excellent story and a definite discussion starter. Just think carefully about who would appreciate it properly and at what age.The writing and subject matter and characterization remind me a little bit of Madeleine L’Engle’s young adult novels. If you’ve read and enjoyed A Winter’s Love or The Small Rain by L’Engle, then The Borrowed House has about the same maturity level with some similar themes.

The Winged Girl of Knossos by Erick Berry

Sep11

Erick Berry was the pen name of author, illustrator, and editor Evangel Allena Champlin Best. She wrote this book, based on the Greek myths about Icarus, Theseus, Ariadne, and Daidalos, and interestingly enough, for this female author with a male pseudonym, she turns Icarus, Daidalos’ son, into a daughter named Inas.

Inas, the protagonist of this myth retold as historical fiction, is a brave and daring character. She dives in the Aegean Sea for sponges. She assists the Princess Ariadne of Crete in her court intrigues and plots to save the life of the Greek captive Theseus. She uses the wings that her inventor father has built to glide from the cliffs down to the seashore. She is a bull-vaulter, taking part in the ancient games of skill that her countrymen celebrate. She helps her father to escape the wrath of King Minos when the king is misled into thinking that Daidalos is a traitor.

There is a bit of romance in the novel, and the characters do a bit more dithering about trying to decide what to do and how to do it than I would like. But overall the book is a lovely introduction to the culture and history of ancient Crete encased in an exciting adventure saga.

“Long, long before blind Homer sang his songs of ancient Troy, long even before Troy itself rose from the ashes of her past and fair Helen smiled from the towers of Ilium, Minos reigned in Crete. The broad halls of the palace at Knossos welcomed traders from Egypt and from Sicily, from far Africa and rain-swept Cornwall and the savage shores of the Black Sea, and Daidalos built the Labyrinth, and dark Ariadne loved the brown-haired Theseus.”

I was, of course, reminded as I read of my favorite adult historical fiction that retells the story of Theseus and Ariadne and Crete and the Labyrinth: The King Must Die and its sequel The Bull From the Sea, both by Mary Renault. In Ms. Berry’s 1934 Newbery Honor winning version of the myth, Theseus is a boorish hunk who captures Ariadne’s eye for gorgeousness more than her heart. I found this image of Theseus hard to reconcile with the suave, bold, and daring Theseus of Mary Renault’s books. Middle grade readers won’t have this problem—unless they encounter the Berry Theseus now and later try to make him into a more heroic character when they read Renault’s books.

At any rate, The Winged Girl of Knossos, long out of print and unavailable for most of today’s readers, was re-published in 2017 by Paul Dry Books in a beautiful paperback edition. This edition includes an after-afterword, called “an appreciation,” written by librarian and blogger Betsy Bird, who advocated for its reissue.

The Wonderful Winter by Marchette Chute

Sep10

The Wonderful Winter is a wonderful story, exciting but fairly unrealistic in that the runaway protagonist, young Sir Robert Wakefield, mostly meets up with kind and helpful people as he spends the winter on his own in London. And he gets to act and live with Shakespeare’s company of actors in the first production of Mr. Shakespeare’s new play, Romeo and Juliet!

In 1596, orphan boy Robin Wakefield runs away from his home in Suffolk with his three formidable aunts because said aunts won’t let him keep the spaniel puppy he found and named Ruff Wakefield. He very politely leaves a note:

Dear and honored ladies,

Do not worry about me and the dog. We will be all right. I wish you long life and every happiness.

Your respectful nephew,
Robert Wakefield

By a series of choices and events, Robin ends up in London where he takes refuge from a thief, the only bad guy in the story, in the theater. And from that point on, we get to explore with Robin the lives of Shakespeare and his fellow players and the exciting culture of the Elizabethan theater.

The go-to historical fiction book about Shakespeare and his life and times is Gary Blackwood’s The Shakespeare Stealer. Comparing Blackwood’s book to The Wonderful Winter is difficult since I read The Shakespeare Stealer many, many moons ago. I would say either/or, and if you or your child like one you might enjoy the other. Other historical fiction books with a Shakespearean setting:

Shakespeare’s Scribe and Shakespeare’s Spy, both by Gary Blackwood. Sequels to The Shakespeare Stealer.

The Playmaker by J.B. Cheaney. Another runaway boy-joins-Shakepeare’s-company story. This time young Richard Malory is hiding out from enemy or enemies unknown at the Globe Theatre.

Cue for Treason by Geoffrey Trease. Peter and his friend Kit find jobs as apprentices to the Bard himself.

Mistress Malapert by Sally Watson. In this exciting story the runaway is a girl, Valerie, who dresses as a boy and gets to meet Mr. Shakespeare and various other personalities of the time. Sally Watson is especially good at writing spunky girls who manage to get themselves into all sorts of scrapes and adventures.

Door to the North by Elizabeth Coatsworth

May31

Door to the North: A Saga of 14th Century America by Elizabeth Coatsworth.
Canoeing With the Cree: A 2250-mile Voyage from Minneapolis to Hudson Bay by Eric Sevareid.

It’s always fun when your reading accidentally and serendipitously coincides, and one books informs and talks to another. I read Canoeing With the Cree, journalist Eric Sevareid’s account of his youthful journey, along with a friend Walter C. Port, from the Minnesota River at Fort Snelling to the Hudson Bay, by canoe. The two boys, inspired by Kipling, inexperienced at canoeing and at camping, ages seventeen and nineteen respectively, traveled over 500 miles in a canoe called the Sans Souci (without care). It actually took some care and a lot of work and perseverance.

This epic journey by canoe took place in 1930; the book was published in 1935. It was the first time an all-water trip had ever been made from Minneapolis to the North Atlantic. “The newspaper stories that Sevareid wrote on this trip launched his distinguished journalism career, which included more than a decade as a television correspondent and commentator on the CBS Evening News.”

So, I read this true adventure story, and then I thought I’d try a change of pace and read a book of historical fiction about 14th century Norsemen in Iceland and Greenland, Door to the North by Elizabeth Coatsworth. Little did I know that my 14th century explorer missionaries, Christian Vikings, would end up in the same general part of the country as my twentieth century canoe paddlers. Hudson Bay and Lake Winnipeg and the Red River (One of the few rivers in the world that flows north) were recognizable by the descriptions that the author gives despite their lack of English names.

The Norwegian/Swedish expedition, sent out by King Magnus Eirikson in 1355 was charged with inspecting the Norse settlements in Greenland which had long been neglected and on their own. In Elizabeth Coatsworth story, the inspectors find one of the Greenland settlements has disappeared, so they travel west to look for the lost settlers and to make sure that they are still true to the Christian faith wherever they have moved. This quest brings the expedition to the shores of North America where they see many wonders: Skraelings (Native Americans), buffalo, tornadoes, and more, including the aforementioned bodies of water. Coatsworth bases her story in part on the discovery of the Kensington Runestone, which Wikipedia, at least, says was probably a hoax. But then again, who knows?

Both books were quite fascinating, and I’m glad I read them together. I am tempted to send a copy of each one to my relatives in South Dakota, since they have done some canoeing and since they live quite near the country where the two narratives intersect. If you have any interest in Minnesota/Great Lakes/Manitoba history or Vikings or the Mandan or Cree Indians or Norsemen in North America, then both of these books will be quite fascinating reading.

Noteworthy and Encouraging: May 31st

May31

Born on May 31st:

Walt Whitman, b. 1819, poet. I’m not a great Whitman fan, but he did write some things that I can appreciate. There’s a Messner biography of Whitman that I don’t have but I would like to read it and maybe own it: Walt Whitman: Builder for America by Babette Deutsch. Messner, 1941. Perhaps the biography would give me a better appreciation for his poetry.

Robert Louis Stevenson on Walt Whitman: “A large shaggy dog just unchained scouring the beaches of the world and baying at the moon.”

Walt Whitman on Walt Whitman: “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.”

And if you want to read G.K. Chesterton’s parody of Walt Whitman’s version of the nursery rhyme Old King Cole . . .

Nan Terrell Reed, b. 1886, poet and songwriter. At some point in her career, she decided to attempt to write a poem every day. Her poems, at least the ones I sampled, are not terribly memorable or literary, but writing a poem a day seems as if it might be worth the effort, if only for one’s own satisfaction and enjoyment.

It’s only a little tumble-down house
That’s sadly in need of repair—
With a rickety fence and a yard unkept—
Yet the Spirit of God dwells there.

It’s there you may learn the portion of joy
That lies in an everyday thing
From a woman with hair as white as the frost
And a heart as young as the Spring.

Yes—only a little tumble-down house
That’s sadly in need of repair—
The home of a mother with toil-worn hands
Yet the Spirit of God dwells there.

Elizabeth Coatsworth, b. 1893, author of the Newbery Medal book, The Cat Who Went to Heaven. She also wrote a series of five books about Sally, a girl who lived in New England in the late 1700’s/early 1800’s. And she wrote the book I just finished, Door to the North, about a Viking expedition to the Vinland, the Great Lakes area, and Hudson Bay. In addition to historical fiction and fiction set in other times and places, Elizabeth Coatsworth also wrote poetry.

Swift things are beautiful:
Swallows and deer,
And lightening that falls
Bright-veined and clear,
Rivers and meteors,
Wind in the wheat,
The strong-withered horse,
The runner’s sure feet.

And slow things are beautiful:
The closing of day,
The pause of the wave
That curves downward to spray,
The ember that crumbles,
The opening flower,
And the ox that moves on
In the quiet of power.

Madeleine Polland, b. 1918, Irish, also an author of historical fiction for children. I read and reviewed Mission to Cathay quite a few years ago. She also wrote Children of the Red King, Beorn the Proud (Vikings), Flame Over Tara (St. Patrick), and many others. I have those latter two, but I haven’t read them yet.

Castle Adamant by Sally Watson

May24

Sally Watson was an author who wrote several books I loved as a child: Mistress Malapert, Linnet, Jade, and Lark are the ones I remember reading. Several years ago I found a couple more of her books, Highland Rebel and The Hornet’s Nest, and added them to my library. I already had a copy of Lark, and my daughter enjoyed it when she was a girl just as much as I did. However, all of Ms. Watson’s books were out of print and nowhere to be found for many years.

Then, I found that many of her books had been reprinted or republished, either by the author herself or by some small reprint publishers. And there were more books, set during the English Civil Wars of the 1640’s, Cavaliers versus Roundheads, with strong-willed female protagonists and exciting historical plots just like the Lark/Linnet/Jade books. So, I ordered myself a copy of Mistress Malapert and of a new-to-me book, Castle Adamant.

Unfortunately, I didn’t look closely at the suggested target age group for the novel, and I won’t be able to put this book in my library. That’s a shame because it’s a good story, and the others that I do remember are completely appropriate for middle grade readers. However, Castle Adamant (and apparently the two other books that form a trilogy with it, The Outrageous Oriel and Loyal and the Dragon) has just enough “adult” or “young adult” content to make it too much for the middle grades.

Castle Adamant features the defense of Corfe Castle by its Royalist owners from assault by the Parliamentary forces. The story of Corfe Castle and the battles that took place there are true, but Ms. Watson throws in a few fictional characters to make it interesting. Peregrine Lennox is the second son of a Royalist lord and advisor to King Charles I. Verity Goodchild is the independent-thinking daughter of a Roundhead colonel. Trained to be a Calvinist but also educated in the classics and in logic, Verity is a mass of contradictions, determined to forge her own ideas and convictions through the various conflicting and confusing issues of the time. Peregrine is an “arrogant sprig of nobility”, “vain, kind, condescending, and resigned to boredom.” When Peregrine’s lazy intelligence meets up with Verity’s fiery intelligence, the arguments and the Latin quotations fly fast and furious, along with many a Scripture verse from Verity’s unlimited and memorized storehouse.

So, the novel is made up of two elements: the battle(s) for Corfe Castle and the battle(s) between Verity and Peregrine. The content warning is that the author keeps throwing in not so subtle hints about the the physical attraction between Verity and Peregrine:

“The maleness her small breasts pressed against was firm and strong and hard and smelled of horse and herbs. Prevented–not for fear of Satan, but by her painful arms–from holding yet more tightly, she allowed the unslapped side of her face to rest against his doublet.”

“Verity instantly fell into lusting even harder after her friend’s husband-to-be. With passion, Satan was indeed tempting her; and it was a shock, for she had never willed it.”

“At one point she ripped her skirt all the way up, providing a stunning view of a long shapely leg. She was not aware of it, nor even of the long deep scratch down her thigh. . . .She had no idea she had titillated Peregrine, or indeed showed him her leg at all.”

“‘I won’t wed anyone. I’ll be a spinster. But—” She looked at him, and all virtue left her. ‘Peregrine— If we could manage— I would come to your bed anyway.’
For a moment, she thought in anguish that he was repulsed by her froward and sinful thoughts. His face was blank, and an odd bulge appeared just in the front of his breeches. A strong instinct told Verity it was something not to be asked about nor even noticed—but that perhaps it was not revulsion either?”

That, and couple of scenes where a villager and a soldier try to assault Verity and steal a kiss, are as explicit as it gets, but sadly way too much for children. The theological debates that Verity has with Peregrine, with the doyenne of Corfe Castle, and with God Himself are certainly somewhat mature also, but her questions are nothing an intelligent eleven or twelve year old wouldn’t be able to handle.

I haven’t read The Outrageous Oriel, but I did read this bit about it at Sally Watson’s website:

“Outrageous Oriel was lots of fun–-and possibly a bit shocking to a few–-but times change, don’t they? That was Oriel, all right. Outrageous.
In the ’50’s and ’60’s the trilogy would be definitely Adult, with Oriel and her friend Evan agreeing to marry platonically, because, he tells her, he loves her dearly as a friend but prefers fellows in his bed. Now? Who knows? I’ve read YA much nearer the mark.”

So, yes, the three books in “the trilogy” are adult or young adult, and the others I’ve named are middle grade reads that can be enjoyed by all ages. I liked Castle Adamant for the most part, but I plan to stick to Sally Watson’s juvenile novels from here on out.

The Mantlemass Chronicles by Barbara Willard

May9

The Sprig of Broom (1485)
The Lark and the Laurel (1485)
The Eldest Son (1534)
A Cold Wind Blowing (1536)
The Iron Lily (1557)
A Flight of Swans (1588)
Harrow and Harvest (1642)

These books take us through English history from the Battle of Bosworth, to the reign of the Tudor kings, to Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries, to the Spanish Armada, to another English civil war between Cromwell’s Roundheads and the King’s Royalists or Cavaliers. During all these great events the families in and around the manor house Mantlemass—-Mallorys, Medleys, Plashets, and Hollands–-pursue their own ends and keep their own secrets. From reading the synopses of these other novels in the series, I can see that marriage and romance and family secrets and loyalty and independence continue to be themes that Ms. Willard explores in her books. I’m going to enjoy exploring with her and her characters.

**********************

And I did it. I “binge read” the last five of The Mantlemass Chronicles and enjoyed the experience immensely. Barbara Willard is not well enough known or regarded. Her family saga that covers multiple generations (about with or ten?) is insightful and compelling. The characters remind me of Elizabeth Goudge or Winston Poldark (Poldark), but they are more believable than Winston Graham’s sometimes over-wrought and over dramatic characters, and Willard sticks with the same family for seven books, unlike Goudge. And even though the people who inhabit Mantlemass in the last book of the series, Harrow and Harvest, know almost nothing about the ancestors whose story is told in the first two books, there is a family secret that is handed down from generation to generation over 150 plus years. This thread of secret plus inheritance plus genetic line plus the house itself, Mantlemass, ties all of the books together, making for a very satisfying read.

A Cold Wind Blowing covers the same time period that was chronicled in The Eldest Son, but this time we get to read about events from the perspective of the second son of the Medley family, Piers. Gaps and events that are only alluded to but never explained in The Eldest Son make up the story in A Cold Wind Blowing, and readers learn to understand this family and relationships within it in a deeper and more illuminating way. Piers, a likable character in the first book, becomes the center of the family in this book, the young man seasoned by grief and tragedy who will in the next book/episode be both the patriarch and the source of continued family drama.

The Iron Lily introduces readers to another branch of the Medley/Mallory family, an illegitimate daughter who finds her family and brings a new strength and will to the family she finds. Lilias and her daughter Ursula move into the vicinity of Mantlemass and become a part of the community there despite not a little struggle and misunderstanding. Lilias, a widow, is determined to support her daughter and make her own way in the world of the iron industry. In a world of men workers and owners, Lilias is an anomaly, a strong woman who runs her iron foundry as she runs her life, with stubborn purpose. However, she’s not completely out of place in the Mallory/Medley family, which has a history of strong-willed women and men to match them. The question is whether or not Lily with her autocratic ways will ruin the life of her daughter Ursula when the two clash over Ursula’s future.

A Flight of Swans moves the story to the next generation and the attempted invasion of England by the Spanish Armada. Ursula is now the mistress of Mantlemass, and a couple of Jolland cousins, Roger and Humfrey, have come to visit. Ursula must deal with a broken marriage and with suspected treachery in the ironworks as it becomes profitable to sell the iron industry secrets to the highest bidder in a time of war. This book displays exactly what I liked about the entire series. Ms. Willard’s characters are real people who grow (or deteriorate) and change just as real people do, sometimes disappointing the reader but always continuing to be compelling and intriguing. The novel covers a great deal of time, and the reader must pay close attention to “fill in the gaps”, sometimes from one chapter to the next. But the attentiveness is worth cultivating for the sake of a fine story.

The last book in the series, Harrow and Harvest, takes place during the English Civil War between the Royalists and the Roundheads in the 1640’s. The family is in decline, and the family secrets have been all but lost. Nicholas Highwood and his sister Cecelia are managing Mantlemass, barely, when a distant relative from an estranged part of the family shows up with possibly a better claim to the inheritance. All of this family drama is made almost irrelevant by the approach of war and the necessity to declare their loyalties either to the king or to Parliament. Again, there are traitors in their midst, and the ironworks is a source of support and contention.

I thought the story ended well, and I very much enjoyed the ride. Again, I think this series could be an excellent period drama series along the lines of Poldark or Downton Abbey, but it’s better than Poldark since the characters never do anything that is wildly out of character as they sometimes do in Winston Graham’s series. I definitely recommend this series to fans of the family saga or British historical novels.

The Eldest Son by Barbara Willard

Apr24

The Eldest Son is the third book in Barbara Willard’s Mantlemass Chronicles series. In the two first books of the series, The Lark and the Laurel and A Sprig of Broom, the two families, whose lives become intertwined by marriage and by incident in the books, are founded and begin their multi-generational saga. These families, the Mallorys and the Medleys have a family secret that is passed down from generation to generation. And there are family traits, talents, and curses that are also inherited, sometimes twisted, combined and re-combined to display themselves in new and interesting ways.

The Eldest Son focuses on the family of Master Medley, the owner and patriarch of Ghylls Hatch, a horse breeding farm near Mantlemass Manor in Sussex. The book takes place in and around Ashdown Forest, which coincidentally is also the setting of A.A. Milne’s Winnie-the Pooh. Also near Ashdown Forest is the castle where Henry VIII courted Anne Boleyn, but although The Eldest Son is set in 1534, about the time that Henry VIII was disrupting his household, the church, and the whole of England for the sake of a son, Anne Boleyn doesn’t come into the story. The ripple-effects of Henry VIII’s feud with the Catholic Church do work their way into the story, though.

Master Medley’s eldest son is Harry, who receives the nickname “young falcon” from his mother, daughter to the Mallory family of Mantlemass Manor. “For . . . you do ever hover above what you most desire. And though you might see it to be wrong, and know it to be so, and know you must wait to take it, yet you will have it–and like the falcon, swoop at last, and carry it away.” In short, Harry is a stubborn man with strong ideas and desires. And unlike his younger brother Piers, Harry does not wish to be a breeder of horses like his father. Instead, Harry is drawn to the new and exciting work of the iron foundries that are becoming the mainstay of the area’s economy in Tudor England.

The Lark and the Laurel was a book about marriage, what it means and what it can become, both for good and for evil. The Eldest Son is a book about the relationship between father and son and about the bond between brothers. It also features a conflict between a man’s vocation and his devotion to family and place. Harry does not love horses as his brother Piers does, nor is Harry content to follow the family business in spite of his own inclinations, as the youngest of the three brothers Richard seems destined to do. Harry’s falcon-like stubbornness and focus are both his strength and his weakness as he works throughout the story to become his own man and yet be responsible to his family.

These books remind me of the Poldark saga series of novels by Winston Graham. Both series chronicle the lives and fortunes of families in rural England, far from the centers of power in London and in the coastal port cities. Sussex and Ashdown Forest are only about thirty miles south of London, but in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when travel was by foot or by horse, it might as well have been a hundred miles away or more. Similarly, Cornwall, where the Poldark novels of the eighteenth century are set, is in the far south of England, isolated from the seat of governmental and economic power in England, but affected by the decisions made in those places nonetheless. As history swirls about these families, they both influence and are influenced by the times that they live in and the changes that are taking place in their respective centuries.

I’m looking forward to reading the rest of the books in the Mantlemass Chronicles:

The Sprig of Broom (1485)
The Lark and the Laurel (1485)
The Eldest Son (1534)
A Cold Wind Blowing (1536)
The Iron Lily (1557)
A Flight of Swans (1588)
Harrow and Harvest (1642)

These books take us through English history from the Battle of Bosworth, to the reign of the Tudor kings, to Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries, to the Spanish Armada, to another English civil war between Cromwell’s Roundheads and the King’s Royalists or Cavaliers. During all these great events the families in and around the manor house Mantlemass—-Mallorys, Medleys, Plashets, and Hollands–-pursue their own ends and keep their own secrets. From reading the synopses of these other novels in the series, I can see that marriage and romance and family secrets and loyalty and independence continue to be themes that Ms. Willard explores in her books. I’m going to enjoy exploring with her and her characters.

This book is an example of the kind of young adult literature I wish were being written and published nowadays. It’s exciting, with full and subtle characterization, and respectful to young adult readers who really can appreciate something more than vampires and dystopias and love triangles. By the way, I think these novels would make a really good historical mini-series, like Poldark, if anyone has the ear of a good producer who is interested in making the next big PBS or BBC hit series.