Children's Book Group Topic

Royalty and the Middle Ages

"Royalty and the Middle Ages" is an especially rich topic, because the books can be fiction or nonfiction.

Picking a favorite title at random, we can start with the littler crowd (although I only discovered this book as an adult and fell immediately in love with it) and look at James Thurber's Many Moons.  There are two versions of this picture book:  the original Caldecott Award-winning one, with illustrations by Louis Slobodkin, and a newer edition featuring pictures by Marc Simont.  Usually in matters like this I prefer whichever version I saw first; however, I have to say that in this case, the Simont illustrations strike me as far superior; and in the introduction to the newer edition, Thurber's own daughter admitted that her own misgivings about having a new artist work on the book were entirely groundless.  Regardless of the pictures, the story is wonderful, especially for those of us whose children love a good story but need it to be gentle and preferably funny.  The plot is simple:  a young princess is suffering from "a surfeit of raspberry tarts," and insists that the only way she can get well is if someone will get the moon for her.  Her fretful father calls all his royal helpers, wise men all, but in the end it is the fool who is the wisest of all and finds a way to make the princess well and happy once again. 

For the slightly older crowd, another book by James Thurber (illustrated by Marc Simont) is longer and more adventurous -- The 13 Clocks.  (This book drifts in and out of print; better check the library.)  The storyline is fairly conventional -- prince has to perform heroic and occasionally bizarre feats in order to win the hand of the princess he loves -- but the telling, and the details, are purely unique.  The princess lives in a castle with her uncle, a wicked duke with a voice "like iron dropped on velvet," and thirteen clocks, all of which are frozen at ten minutes to five.  For those who dwell in the palace, "It's always Then.  It's never Now."  And it's up to the hero, if he can manage it, to bring Now to this cold and gloomy place.

Anne Tyler wrote a wonderfully funny story called Tumble Tower, about a princess too sloppy for her family's liking.  Though parents may be a bit uneasy at this spirited defense of a very disorderly room, children will cheer.  The real message of this picture book is not that we should all keep our rooms as orderless and random-food-secreted as possible in preparation for whatever natural disaster may strike (Princess Molly's messy ways save the day when the castle is suddenly flooded), but that children should have some autonomy and say in their own lives and preferences. 

This book is only marginally related to the topic, but it just slips in and I like it, so deal.  It's Cynthia Rylant's Henry and Mudge and the Long Weekend.  The Henry and Mudge books were lifesavers to me when my little guy was young and sensitive but book-hungry; they're sweet, funny, and utterly lacking in incipient tragedy even by my son's standards.  (Bear in mind that this is someone who managed to find fear in a Magic School Bus video.)  Henry and his 180-pound dog Mudge face a rainy weekend of stupefying dullness until Henry's mother gets the idea of building a castle out of some appliance boxes.  Once they start this messy, crafty, painty, imagination-fueled project, the long weekend turns into a great weekend.  Not preachy, but a good message for those of us who prefer the hands-on life to hours in front of the TV.

A picture book for almost all ages that is far more informative as far as the Middle Ages (and royalty) is Joanna Cole's Ms. Frizzle's Adventures:  Medieval Castle.  This is a Magic School Bus book without the bus or most of the students.  Ms. Frizzle takes Arnold back in time to -- you guessed it -- a medieval castle.  A great deal of information is worked into their adventure there.  As good as the story is, I especially like the last page, which is after the story proper ends and titled "Don't believe everything you read!  (Especially in this book)."  It then gives a quick sketch of what isn't true in this story.  For instance, "In this book, it may seem as if the people besieging the castle are bad and the ones inside the castle are good.  However, they are all probably just about the same.  For all we know, Lord Robert might attack Baron Griffin's castle some day."  This is a difficult concept, but well worth pointing out -- not moral relativism, but basic truth.  The author also points out that although there isn't any language barrier when Ms. Frizzle and Arnold go back in time, in reality it would have been very difficult for a modern-day English speaker to communicate with a resident of Medieval England. 

This last fact is one that is never properly dealt with in the popular Magic Tree House series.  I'll go ahead and mention their medieval title, but my heart's not in it.  I know that kids love these books.  So do teachers.  So do librarians.  But I don't.  The writing is limp and second-rate, the characters defined by tells rather than any real personality -- Jack is a boy who loves the facts, just the facts; his younger sister Annie loves magic and real life rather than the books Jack enjoys.  First off, this book woman wants to know why people keep marking off that demarcation between reading and "real" life.  Secondly, as my son pointed out (unprompted, thank you), "Why does Annie keep saying she believes in magic, when magic stuff keeps happening?  I mean, if magic's real, what's there to 'believe' in?"  Which is such an awesome statement about the nature of faith in our troubled world that I can't even cope with it, but it also points out a flaw in the book -- there's too much random magic.  Plus I find the treehouse premise dorky.  This is a magic structure that's controlled by one of the greatest sorcerers in the world, who travels through the space/time continuum gathering knowledge in the form of rare books, and she's tooling around in a treehouse? 

Okay, I'll stop kvetching.  The magic treehouse series has a title set in the middle ages.  It's called The Knight at Dawn, and it's the second book in the series, which means you only have to read one other book to have it make as much sense as it's ever going to.  Better yet, insist that your kid read it all by himself.  To himself.  Pay him not to read it out loud. 

If you want a really good series about time-and-space-traveling siblings, look for the Good Times Travel Agency books by Linda Bailey.  The premise is that a twin brother and sister, along with their younger sister (who seems to be about four years old, and is very funny without being all cutesied up or overly precocious), wandered into a travel agency run by this old geezer who sends his clientele on trips to really exotic locales, such as ancient Egypt or the Ice Age, with the help of some travel guide books he wrote himself.  You just open up a book and POOF, you're somewhere and somewhen else.  In order to get back home again, you have to read all the way through the book.  The second book is about a trip the kids take to the Middle Ages.  The brother wants to be a knight, and persuades his sister to come along by insisting that she'll be a princess.  However, the odds being what they are and the universe being what it is, they end up as peasants (whenever they land somewhere, part of the travel agency's service is to dress them to blend in with their fellow people and somehow equip them to understand the language).  They slog through the guide book as best they can, almost losing it along the way, and help save a castle from besiegers before finally returning home.  The guide book, which should be read in your best geezer voice should you be reading these aloud, naturally has a great deal of information about whatever time and place they're visiting.  A good combination of fiction and nonfiction.

Another is the beautiful picture book published by the Getty Museum -- Marguerite Makes A Book, by  Bruce Robertson.  This lovingly illustrated story takes the reader step by step through the careful, intricate process of creating a book in the Middle Ages, from buying calfskin for the pages to mixing the white of an egg (not too fresh) with various crushed herbs and stones to make just the right colors for the hand-crafted pages of text and pictures.  All ages will enjoy this book -- even the very young can understand the story, especially with the help of the pictures. 

Speaking of beautiful picture books, there are two by Robert D. San Souci that aren't to be missed -- Young Arthur and Young Guinevere.  I enjoyed these because they're well-written and wonderfully illustrated and because they told some origin stories from the legends of Arthur and Guinevere when things were still looking good for A. and G.  You know, before Lancie came around and ruined things.  I especially liked the Guinevere story, since her legend is less well-known.  She is a very active character -- no princess waiting to be rescued here. 

My son also enjoyed Hudson Talbott's King Arthur:  The Sword in the Stone  Still a picture book, but a little wordy for the younger ones.  And of course for the older kids, there's the original Sword in the Stone by T. H. White, as well as White's The Once and Future King 

Of course we've got to have a little Robin Hood in here.  A very nice introduction to one of the funnier legends of Robin Hood is Barbara Cohen's Robin Hood and Little John.  Some of the Robin Hood stories can get a little grim, but this keeps it light while telling the story of one of Robin's best-known friends.  I myself have never understood the whole "hey, you beat me in a fight -- now we're best friends forever!" boy game ethos, but if you can go with it, it's a fun story. 

Another telling that's still fun and funny, but tells a lot more of Robin's legend and is geared for the older crowd, is Marcia Williams' Adventures of Robin Hood.  Williams tells her story in a comic format -- she'll have a line of text explaining the situation, and then some pictures and dialogue within comic squares.  (Sample dialogue, to give an idea of the tone:  after Maid Marian joins up, Robin declares, "We'll have to call ourselves a band of merry persons now!")  Williams' books are a lot of fun, but the print is small and there is a great deal of it on every page; get this for the kids who can read to themselves.

Two last books for the older kids, one classic, one contemporary:

I haven't yet read Karen Cushman's Newbery Honor book Catherine, Called Birdy, but it looks like exactly the kind of novel I would have adored back when I was the recommended age for it (11 to 12).  It is the diary of a girl in the year 1290 who is doing everything she can not to be married off to a man not of her choosing, though her father "conspires to sell me like a cheese to some lack-wit seeking a wife."  Anita Silvey recommends it in her 100 Best Books for Children.  "Cushman immerses her readers completely in the setting," she declares; "they experience the tastes, smell the odors, and even hear the archaic swear words of the era."  Okay, now I have to read this book.

Perhaps set a little late to count as the Middle Ages, but still definitely having to do with royalty, is Mark Twain's The Prince and The Pauper  Of course we all know the premise -- the idea of two opposites trading places has been worked and reworked in fiction and drama ad infinitum.  But when Twain did it, it was still new.  I can think of no better way for a young history student to get a first taste of the fascinating saga of the Tudor dynasty than this novel.  The first lines of the book aren't half as famous as they ought to be:

In the ancient city of London, on a certain autumn day in the second quarter of the sixteenth century, a boy was born to a poor family of the name of Canty, who did not want him.  On the same day another English child was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who did want him.  All England wanted him.

Stop me or I'll read the whole thing.

My only quibble with the book is that Twain gets some tiny bits of history wrong.  He describes, for instance, the pauper boy eating in the palace of the king "with his fingers mainly," as if he ought to be looking for and selecting the correct fork, when in fact the prince and his own father the king would have eaten with their fingers mainly as well, as the fork was practically unheard of in this place and time.  Also, he has Prince Edward speaking in dread and dislike of his older sister Mary, though in fact the two were very close -- Mary was practically a mother to him, as his own had died shortly after his birth.  (Okay, I wrote a book about the woman and I don't like having misinformation spread about her.  Sue me.)

Happy reading, everyone.

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