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Inspired by my recent reading of the Mabinogion, I have launched into a re-read of Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain novels, which were vaguely inspired by it. I invite you all to re-read (or read) with me.
I first read these in the ashram library when I was about ten, but out of order, beginning with The Black Cauldron (book two) and continuing with The High King (the final book), as those were the only ones there. The first works quite well as a first book; the last worked surprisingly well by force of story, though I missed much of the emotional impact as characters whom I had not previously met kept wandering in and getting killed. As a result, when I finally managed to obtain the other books, I knew what happened but not why.
When I finally got to The Book of Three, I was disappointed: after the heroism and tragedy of later books, its light comedy seemed odd and slight. Taran, the impetuous kid Assistant Pig-Keeper for the enchanter Dallben’s oracular pig, wants to be a hero. When the pig runs off, Taran pursues her and runs into the warrior Gwydion son of Don (who is very noble and not at all like the amoral trickster of the same name in the Mabinogion), a chatty but rather sensible girl named Eilonwy, a creature named Gurgi who is vaguely Gollum-like but much less sinister, and a bard, Fflewddur Fflam, who is stuck with a magical harp whose strings break every time he exaggerates.
At age ten, much of the comedy not involving Fflewddur or Gurgi sailed over my head. When Taran encounters the noble hero Gwydion, I identified so completely with Taran that I was indignant at Gwydion for being mean to him. Reading that scene as an adult, it’s actually pretty funny to watch a figure out of grand mythology suddenly saddled with a suicidally heroic child whose life Gwydion is forced to save about three times in fifteen minutes due to Taran’s tendency to leap into counterproductive action.
Also, as a ten-year-old, I was confused as to why the evil queen Achren captured Gwydion and then didn’t kill him, as would have been sensible. As a thirty-six-year-old, I realized that Gwydion is hot and that is why. So many books make so much more sense if you read them with an understanding that sexual desire is a possible motivation.
This first book was nowhere near as much to my taste when I was ten as the more somber sequel, but I appreciated it more now. It’s funny, it moves fast, the comic characters are great, and it sets up all sorts of things which will have fantastic pay-offs later. All the same, I can see why I didn’t re-read it until now.
I first read these in the ashram library when I was about ten, but out of order, beginning with The Black Cauldron (book two) and continuing with The High King (the final book), as those were the only ones there. The first works quite well as a first book; the last worked surprisingly well by force of story, though I missed much of the emotional impact as characters whom I had not previously met kept wandering in and getting killed. As a result, when I finally managed to obtain the other books, I knew what happened but not why.
When I finally got to The Book of Three, I was disappointed: after the heroism and tragedy of later books, its light comedy seemed odd and slight. Taran, the impetuous kid Assistant Pig-Keeper for the enchanter Dallben’s oracular pig, wants to be a hero. When the pig runs off, Taran pursues her and runs into the warrior Gwydion son of Don (who is very noble and not at all like the amoral trickster of the same name in the Mabinogion), a chatty but rather sensible girl named Eilonwy, a creature named Gurgi who is vaguely Gollum-like but much less sinister, and a bard, Fflewddur Fflam, who is stuck with a magical harp whose strings break every time he exaggerates.
At age ten, much of the comedy not involving Fflewddur or Gurgi sailed over my head. When Taran encounters the noble hero Gwydion, I identified so completely with Taran that I was indignant at Gwydion for being mean to him. Reading that scene as an adult, it’s actually pretty funny to watch a figure out of grand mythology suddenly saddled with a suicidally heroic child whose life Gwydion is forced to save about three times in fifteen minutes due to Taran’s tendency to leap into counterproductive action.
Also, as a ten-year-old, I was confused as to why the evil queen Achren captured Gwydion and then didn’t kill him, as would have been sensible. As a thirty-six-year-old, I realized that Gwydion is hot and that is why. So many books make so much more sense if you read them with an understanding that sexual desire is a possible motivation.
This first book was nowhere near as much to my taste when I was ten as the more somber sequel, but I appreciated it more now. It’s funny, it moves fast, the comic characters are great, and it sets up all sorts of things which will have fantastic pay-offs later. All the same, I can see why I didn’t re-read it until now.