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Born on This Day: Erik Christian Haugaard, 1923-2009

Born on April 13, 1923 in Denmark, Erik Christian Haugaard eventually made his way to the United States and became a writer, even though he left school at the age of fifteen and left Denmark at the age of seventeen. When the Germans invaded Denmark in 1940, young Erik Haugaard got out of Denmark just ahead of the invasion on the last ship out of Danish waters to the United States. After that he traveled some in the U.S., joined the Royal Canadian Air Force, went to college some during and after the war was over, and then began to write. An editor at Houghton Mifflin suggested that he rewrite a manuscript he had submitted and make it into a story for children. And so he wrote his first book for children, Hakon of Rogen’s Saga, a novel about the medieval ruler, Earl Hakon of Norway.

I have five of Haugaard’s thirteen or so books in my library:

Hakon of Rogen’s Saga and A Slave’s Tale are both set in Viking times, after the Christianization of Norway, but in a time when the pagan gods and customs were still in conflict with the new Christian way of looking at life. Leif the Unlucky, also set among the Vikings, is a fictionalized look at the Greenland colony of Lief Ericksson, an attempt at nation-building that did not turn out well.

Orphans of the Wind is a U.S. civil war sailing story. Haugaard’s books tend to be about young boys or girls getting caught up in the dangers and travails of war.

The Samurai’s Tale is one of three books that Haugaard wrote about ancient Japan and the samurai. The other two (that I don’t own) are The Boy and the Samurai and The Revenge of the Forty-Seven Samurai.

Cromwell’s Boy is about a young man living during the English civil war of Oliver Cromwell’s day. It’s a sequel to the book, A Messenger for Parliament, a book that’s on my wishlist.

The Little Fishes, another war story that I do not own, is set in occupied Italy with a twelve year old orphaned beggar named Guido as the protagonist.

The Haugaard book that I most recently acquired and read is titled Chase Me, Catch Nobody. Set in pre-war Germany and Denmark, Chase Me, Catch Nobody features a fourteen year old Danish schoolboy who must be at least a semi-autobiographical character. Erik Hansen (not Haugaard) narrates this story of a school trip to Nazi Germany in 1937. Erik in the book describes himself in much the same way that author Erik Haugaard reminisces about his younger self in a 1979 interview I read. Erik Haugaard the author and Erik Hansen the character are both from upper middle class backgrounds, indifferent students, ambitious to write poetry, and as adolescents “a bit of a snob.” Haugaard says in the interview that even as an adult writer what he most needs and craves from an editor is praise, praise, and more praise. Erik Hansen is self-aware enough to know and tell the reader that he is somewhat ashamed of his parents and their “lack of imagination” and middle class values, but that he enjoys being wealthy and generous just like his father and that he and his father indeed share share many of the same faults, “which is why we didn’t get along.”

I thought the book, rated YA for some fumbling talk about sex and for the very adolescent attitudes expressed in story, was very insightful as the characters, mostly Erik and his friend Nikolai, gained more and more insight into their own characters and their own ability to act with courage and conviction. The boys are tested by an encounter with a stranger in a grey raincoat who entrusts Erik with a mysterious package to deliver just before the man is arrested by the Gestapo. Then, later in the book, Erik and Nikolai are given another mission to complete that will require them to face great danger in order to possibly save a life. And through the book while Erik and his friend act with courage and determination, they are also typical teens, idealistic, sarcastic, foolhardy, convinced of their own invincibility and at the same time vulnerable and unsure of their own beliefs and convictions.

I was reminded of this book, The Boys Who Challenged Hitler: Knud Pedersen and the Churchill Club by Phillip Hoose, and I think these two books would be quite a good pair to read in tandem for a teen book club or discussion group. I wrote that The Boys Who Challenged Hitler was “an interesting and exciting portrait of youthful zeal and even foolhardiness which can sometimes trump an adult over-abundance of caution and planning” and the same could be said of Chase Me, Catch Nobody. But the discussion could also cover the possibility that such youthful enthusiasm and lack of respect for possible consequences or for the sheer enormity of the evil that was Naziism could bring many lives to ruin, as it indeed did in some places and situations in the Allied resistance during World War II.

I recommend Haugaard’s books for young adult readers who enjoy a challenging story that will cause them to think about character and philosophy and politics and see these subjects through the eyes of different people from themselves. However, as Haugaard says in the afore-mentioned interview it is much easier to see what’s wrong with the world than it is to see what’s right or to find solutions to the problems. Perhaps just seeing today’s political and social problems in a different historical setting such as medieval Japan or a Viking colony in Greenland will make us see those issues in a new way and begin to understand the path toward new solutions.

Erik Christian Haugaard also made his own translation of Hans Christian Andersen’s stories, published by Doubleday as A Complete Fairy Tales and Stories by Hans Christian Anderson, translated by Erik Christian Haugaard. The translation project took Haugaard three years to finish.

“I don’t know whether my own books will survive, but if I have saved any of Andersen’s stories from obscurity, I have made a contribution to English literature. Who Wouldn’t be grateful for having had such an opportunity!” ~Erik Christian Haugaard, interview in Language Arts, Vol. 56, No. 5 (May 1979), pp. 549-561.

Julius Caesar by John Gunther

Since most of what I know about Julius Caesar comes from Shakespeare (and a little GB Shaw, which I assume is mostly fiction), I learned a lot about the life and times of Mr. Caesar from reading this Landmark history book for middle grade children. Yes, his surname really was Caesar; it became a term for a ruler or king after Julius and Augustus made it famous.

Julius Caesar was a successful and intrepid general and an excellent and shrewd politician; that’s how he rose to the place where he was a threat to the Roman republic and ripe for assassination. I didn’t really realize that he won so many important battles or subjugated so much territory. I also didn’t know about, and still don’t understand, the intricate and corrupt state of Roman politics in the time of Julius Caesar. Caesar had to weave his way through some labyrinthine politics that would challenge a modern American political consultant or campaign manager. And I thought our political system was bad. If Washington, D.C. is a swamp, Rome was a swamp in which people actually died over their failure to back the right candidate for tribune or consul. And that’s before Julius Caesar died for being so ambitious. (Apparently, Sulla was a bad dude.)

I learned or had confirmed a few more things about Julius Caesar:

~ He liked the Jews and gave them special privileges to practice their religion in Rome.
~ According to Gunther, it was on Caesar’s watch that the library of Alexandria burned down. (Although Wikipedia says no one knows exactly when it burned and that there may have been several separate fires over the space of hundreds of years.)
~ Caesar did have a fling with Cleopatra, and she did get delivered to his headquarters in a pile of rugs. (GBS was right about that.) Egyptian politics were just as complicated, devious, and deadly as Roman politics.
~ The Rubicon is (was?) a shallow, insignificant river, but crossing the Rubicon, the boundary of his authority to lead an army, was a momentous decision for Caesar, the beginning of the end for Julius Caesar and for the Roman Republic.
~ Julius Caesar used the phrase “Veni, vidi, vici” in a letter to the Roman Senate after he had achieved a quick victory in his short war against Pharnaces II of Pontus at the Battle of Zela.

Gunther leans heavily on Shakespeare in the concluding chapters of the book, but I think both Gunther and Shakepeare were leaning heavily on Plutarch and Suetonius for the facts on Julius Caesar’s life, his death and the aftermath of his assassination. According to Gunther, “Friends, Romans, countrymen” was an actual speech that Mark Antony gave at Caesar’s funeral, and it was indeed a real barnburner. Portia really did commit suicide by swallowing burning coals (ouch!), and Brutus truly was a noble but indecisive character. According to Gunther, everything went pretty much the way Shakepeare wrote it many years later. (Except for Caesar’s ghost, which probably didn’t appear; I’m not much of a believer in ghosts, and Gunther doesn’t mention any spooks.)

This book would be an excellent prequel to watching Shakepeare’s Julius Caesar. The movie version with Marlon Brando as Mark Antony is an excellent film, even if it is in black and white.

To learn more about the Landmark series of biographies and history books for young people, check out this podcast episode, Parts 1 and 2, of Plumfield Moms, What Are Landmark Books? Why Do They Matter?

Leonard Wibberley, b. April 9, 1915, d.1983

So, I’m doing a little research on Leonard Wibberley since it’s his birthday today. I know about his most famous book The Mouse That Roared. I read it a long time ago, and I remember the basic premise: a very small country decides to declare war on the United States, lose the war immediately, and then benefit from the “Marshall Plan” aid that is sure to be extended; complications ensue.

I have in my library Wibblerley’s Treegate series of historical fiction novels set before, during and after the American Revolution, and I have three of the four in his series of historical novels on the life of Thomas Jefferson, but I haven’t yet read the books from either of those series.

What I didn’t know is that he wrote over 100 novels and other books, some for adults, others for children. And he wrote under three pseudonyms in addition to his own name: Christopher Webb (some historical fiction books for children or young adults), Patrick O’Connor (Black Tiger series on auto racing, and others for YA), and Leonard Holton (Father Joseph Bredder murder mysteries for adults).

Some of these and some of the other books he wrote under his own name look interesting. I’m particularly interested in the mystery series, if it’s good. There’s also a series of historical novels for children or young adults by “Christopher Webb”, published by Funk and Wagnalls in the 1960’s:

Mark Toyman’s Inheritance, 1960. “Mark Toyman is an orphan being raised by his uncle and aunt on the Kansas frontier in the early 1850s. A pro-slavery mob kills his uncle and force Mark and his aunt to flee for their lives.”
The River of Pee Dee Jack, 1962. “Fur trapping and fur trading Northwest Passage exploration story.” (Amazon)
Quest of the Otter, 1963. “Young Paul Joplin’s father, a whaling captain, did not return to his home in Mystic, Connecticut from his last voyage. When he comes of age Paul sails aboard another whaling ship, the Otter, bound for the South Seas in search of his father.”
Matt Tyler’s Chronicle, 1966. “Matt Tyler, a simple cobbler’s apprentice in Boston, finds himself caught up in major events of the Revolutionary War from the siege of Boston to the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown.”
Eusebius the Phoenician, 1969. “Eusebius, a Phoenician merchant/warrior from Tyre sails from the Mediterranean Sea to Scandinavia to return the body of a slain Viking warrior to his people and to seek the Holy Grail. The Vikings accompany him on a quest that takes Eusebius to the British Isles where he helps a defeated King Arthur re-establish his kingdom in return for assistance in finding the Holy Grail.”

And just a few of the many others of interest by this prolific author (#readallthebooks):
The Ballad of the Pilgrim Cat. “An endearing story of how a stowaway cat on the Mayflower saves the Pilgrims by protecting their grain seeds from rodents.”
Treasure at Twenty Fathoms by Patrick O’Connor. “Chuck Crawford is learning to dive and has a run in with a shark. Will he be able to overcome his fears or will he have to quit diving?”
The Centurian. Adult fiction based on the life of the centurion who oversaw Jesus’ crucifixion.
Flint’s Island. A sequel to Treasure Island, Wibberley’s favorite childhood book.

Don’t these and others (listed at Wibberley’s website) sound absolutely fascinating? Has anyone read anything by Wibberley other than Mouse books, Treegate, and Thomas Jefferson? Any recommendations?

William Wordsworth, b. April 7, 1770

April is National Poetry Month.

Wordsworth on poetry: “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.” Spontaneous, powerful, emotional, and tranquil—all at the same time? I’m not sure I could do all that together, which is probably one reason I’m not a poet. One of many.

Wordsworth on The Poet: “What is a Poet?. . . He is a man speaking to men: a man, it is true, endowed with more lively sensibility, more enthusiasm and tenderness, who has a greater knowledge of human nature, and a more comprehensive soul, than are supposed to be common among mankind; a man pleased with his own passions and volitions, and who rejoices more than other men in the spirit of life that is in him; delighting to contemplate similar volitions and passions as manifested in the goings-on of the Universe, and habitually impelled to create them where he does not find them.”

Wordsworth on nature study: “Come forth into the light of things,/Let Nature be your teacher.”

William Hazlitt on Wordsworth: “He is in this sense the most original poet now living, and the one whose writings could the least be spared: for they have no substitute elsewhere. The vulgar do not read them; the learned, who see all things through books, do not understand them; the great despise. The fashionable may ridicule them: but the author has created himself an interest in the heart of the retired and lonely student of nature, which can never die.”

As for me, I used to call him “Wordswords” because I thought him much too high-flown and wordy. I still rather think so, but I’m not so sure that it’s a deficit in Wordsworth that I don’t appreciate his poetry more. Maybe it’s a deficit in my ability to appreciate good poetry. Anyway, here’s one that I do rather enjoy, about looking out upon the sleeping city of London:

Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802

Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

And another: Lucy II.

Patricia St. John, b. April 5, 1919

I’ve been reading An Ordinary Woman’s Extraordinary Faith: The Autobiography of Patricia St. John. IT’s quite a good story, and it makes me long for a time “when life was simple back in the good old days.” She says things that would in our time be taken as evidence of dishonesty neglect, or dysfunction, and as I read, I knew that they were neither. For instance, her mother and father lived apart for many of the years of their marriage, she taking care of the children in England and he traveling the world and teaching the Bible. And Patricia St. John writes that she never heard an argument or even a cross word pass between her parents when they were together. She also writes of her childhood in which she and her siblings were allowed to explore the woods and fields near their country home, being gone all day and only coming home in time for supper and bed. She tells the story of living alone in a Muslim village in Morocco, with no telephone, no English-speaking people living nearby, and very little knowledge of the Arabic language. She fed the beggar children and told them stories about Jesus in broken Arabic. I fear we have come a long way from the 1950’s when Patricia St. Joh was a missionary in Morocco, and even farther from her childhood in 1930’s and 40’s Britain. And I’m not sure that our sophistication and dependence on technology has brought us to a better way of life or of evangelism in many ways.

While Ms. St. John was living in England (during WWII) and in Morocco, she also wrote fiction books for children, books that give a vivid picture of other lands such as Switzerland and Morocco and also a believable and simple vision of the power of the gospel to change lives and comfort the afflicted. The following titles are the ones I have in my library:

Her first book, The Tanglewood’s Secret, was written to comfort and strengthen the girls in a boarding school that Ms. St. John’s family was associated with. Ruth, the main character in the book, lives with her aunt in the English countryside, and although she begins as a rather selfish and unhappy girl, she later comes to know the Good Shepherd who cares for His sheep.

Treasures of the Snow is set in Switzerland, where Patricia and her family spent a year of her childhood. In the story a girl named Annette is filled with hatred for Lucien, the boy responsible for an injury that crippled Annette’s little brother. The bitterness and hatred in Annette’s heart poisons all of her life and her relationships until she learns to forgive.

Star of Light is the first book that Patricia St. John wrote about her mountain village in Morocco. It’s fiction, but based untrue stories of how Jesus and a missionary nurse healed and cared for a blind baby and a beggar boy.

In Rainbow Garden, Elaine is sent to live with a family in the English countryside while her mother goes to work in France. Elaine is selfish and bitter, but she experiences healing and forgiveness in her garden.

Three Go Searching was written while Ms. St. John was a missionary nurse in an Arab village. When Waffi, an Arab boy, and David, a missionary kid, find a sick servant girl and a mysterious boat, and thus begins an exciting adventure.

The Secret of the Fourth Candle, also written during the time in the Moroccan village, consists of three short stories: “The Four Candles”, “The Cloak”, and “The Guest”.

Historical fiction set during the first century, The Runaway tells the story of Philo, a Phoenician boy whose little sister Illyrica is possessed by a demon. Philo finds a way to take his sister to Jesus, the healer.

Twice Freed is the fictionalized story of Onesimus, the runaway slave who returns to his master with a letter, the Book of Philemon in the the Bible.

Patricia St. John also wrote several missionary biographies, including Until the Day Breaks: The Life and Work of Lilias Trotter, Pioneer Missionary to Muslim North Africa, a book I would like to acquire and read someday.

Alexander the Great by John Gunther

This biography is the current book that the Facebook reading group Read All the Landmarks is reading. I finished this book just as I was listening to an interview with a well-known celebrity pastor who lost his job, platform, family and reputation because of gross sin on his part. The two stories, that of Alexander and that of the pastor, reminded me of one another. In the interview, someone quoted someone (vague enough?) to the effect that “sometimes our talents and charisma put us in places that our character is not developed enough to handle.” Alexander certainly had the talent and the attractiveness and even the courage to conquer the known world, but he couldn’t handle the temptations and the sheer magnitude of the power he attained.

Actually most of us find ourselves in places of responsibility or leadership that we are just not equipped to handle. Had Alexander been wise enough and humble enough to rely on the God who makes Himself known through all creation, or had he even listened more to his old teacher, Aristotle, he might have avoided his final years of debauchery and disappointment and even his untimely death at the age of thirty-two. (He also would have done well to have laid off the liquor. If John Gunther were a temperance promoter, he could not have written a better cautionary tale about the evils of alcohol than this biography of Alexander the Great who turned into Alexander the Mad Drunkard.)

Because I was interested in gaining an alternative view of Alexander’s life and career, I pulled down another book from shelves, History of Alexander the Great by Jacob Abbot. Part of Abbott’s Makers of History series, this biography was published in 1849, about 100 years before Gunther’s Landmark history (1953). In the preface to Abbott’s book, he says the series was meant for young people between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five who wish to be educated about the great events and people of history. The Landmark history books are written for a younger audience, middle grades or ages ten to fifteen, although they can be enjoyed by those of us who are much older than that. I wondered, “How would a nineteenth century biographer see Alexander’s life in contrast to a children’s writer of the twentieth century?”

Abbott begins by saying: “The secret of Alexander’s success was his character. He possessed a certain combination of mental and personal attractions, which in every age gives to those who exhibit it a mysterious and almost unbounded ascendancy over all with their influence.” Gunther would agree that Alexander started out well and possessed a great many gifts and a certain charisma, but Gunther emphasizes that even as a young man, Alexander’s strengths were balanced by his weaknesses: “Like most creative people, he was full of contrasts. He was affectionate, generous and loyal. . . He never spared himself, he liked to do services for others, and he loved his friends. But—this is the other side—he had no control of his temper and, in later life, often went into crazy fits of debauchery. Worst of all he showed great cruelty on many occasions.”

Things I learned about Alexander, from both Abbott and Gunther:

Alexander loved Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey. He had a copy of Homer’s epics, given to him by his teacher Aristotle, that he carried with him on all his campaigns. For most of those twelve years of battle and conquest, he kept his copy of Homer in a jeweled casket that he took form the Persians as part of the spoils of war.

When Alexander was only eighteen, he and his father, Phillip of Macedon, had a fight at a feast, and Alexander made fun of Phillip and called him a “drunk who cannot get across the floor without tumbling down”. Phillip was indeed drunk at the time, and Alexander was an insolent son. Father and son reconciled just before Phillip was assassinated by a man called Pausanias.

Alexander became more and more power-mad and dissolute and cruel and alcoholic as he conquered more and more territory. After he died at the age of thirty-two, his “empire” fell apart. It took a great deal of time for the various parts of his territory to recover from the disaster that was Alexander sweeping through the land.

Abbott ends his book with these words: “Alexander earned well the name and reputation of THE GREAT. He was truly great in all those powers and capacities that can elevate one man above his fellows. We cannot help applauding the extraordinary energy of his genius, though we condemn the selfish and cruel ends to which his life was devoted. He was simply a robber, but yet a robber on so vast a scale, that mankind, in contemplating his career, have generally lost sight of the wickedness of his crimes in their admiration of the enormous magnitude of the scale on which they were perpetrated.”

“Simply a robber” is not the legacy I would want to leave, no matter how “great” a robber i might be.

To learn more about the Landmark series of biographies and history books for young people, check out this podcast episode, Parts 1 and 2, of Plumfield Moms, What Are Landmark Books? Why Do They Matter?

Born on This Day: Eric P. Kelly, Lover of the Polish People

Eric P. Kelly was an American newspaperman and later professor of English at Dartmouth, but his heart was with the Polish people during and after both World War I and World War II. He worked with Polish refugees after World War I, and he came to love Warsaw, writing to his mother, “Warsaw is a beautiful city, reminds me in some ways of Denver.” Then, in 1925-26, Mr. Kelly was a lecturer at a polish university in Warsaw where he heard the legend of the trumpeter of Krakow who, in 1241, was pierced by a Tartar arrow before he could finish a song called the Heyna? Mariacki (aka St. Mary’s Song or the Krakow Anthem). Ever since then, the song has always been played every hour four times from the tower of the Church of Our Lady St. Mary, but abruptly cut short before it is finished.

I’ve never managed to finish Mr. Kelly’s 1928 novel, The Trumpeter of Krakow, either, even though it won the Newbery Medal in 1929 and even though I’ve started it several times. However, I’m working on it now (again), and I’ll let you know what I think when I finish.

Eric P. Kelly also wrote the following books, a few of which I would really like to check out:

The Blacksmith of Vilno (1930) Also set in Poland, one of Kelly’s three “Polish novels.”
The Golden Star of Halicz (1931) The third of the Polish novels.
Christmas Nightingale (1932) Christmas stories of Poland, illustrated by Marguerite De Angeli.
The Girl Who Would be Queen (1934) Biography of the Countess Franciszka Corvin-Krasi?ska who lived during the 18th century in Poland and who sounds as if she might have been a fascinating person. A Polish writer of children’s literature, Klementyna Ta?ska, wrote a novel in 1825 about Countess Krasinska, The Diary of Countess Francoise Krasinska (children’s or adult?).
Three Sides of Angiochook (1935)
Treasure Mountain (1937)
At the Sign of the Golden Compass (1938) A tale of the printing house of Christopher Plantin in Antwerp, 1576.
On the Staked Plain (1940) Maybe a cowboy story?
From Star to Star (1940) A story of Krakow in 1493.
In Clean Hay (1940) Christmas story, illustrated by Maud and Miska Petersham.
Land of the Polish People (1943) The Portraits of the Nations Series.
The Hand in the Picture (1947) Another fiction book set in Poland.
The Amazing Journey of David Ingram (1949) This one sounds amazing. Did you know that there was a young man, David Ingram, who claimed to have walked from Tampico, Mexico to Nova Scotia in 1568, the first European to have traveled across the continent. He also claimed to have seen silver, gold, elephants, and penguins on his journey, which makes some people doubt his story. Nevertheless, a book about the journey of David Ingram would be fun to read, I think.
Polish Legends and Tales (1971)

So, Eric P. Kelly, born March 16, 1884, died in 1960 after 33 years of teaching English at Dartmouth. The Trumpeter of Krakow was his first published book, and it remains his most well-known. If you happen to run across any of his other books, grab them for me.

The Danger Gang and the Pirates of Borneo by Stephen Bramucci

I really didn’t think this was going to be “my type of humor” as I began this book, but the more I read the more I enjoyed it. I even chuckled out loud a few times, and for me that’s major.

When Ronald Zupan’s parents are kidnapped by Zeetan Z, the world’s most ruthless pirate, while they are exploring the jungles of Borneo, Ronald and his rather unadventurous butler, Jeeves, are called to the rescue. Ronald’s fencing opponent, Julianne Sato, and his pet cobra, Carter, are also enlisted to form the Danger Gang, a fearless foursome indeed.

Ronald learns some lessons in humility and respect for others. Jeeves learns courage and perseverance. Julianne becomes a leader, and the snake, Carter, saves the day once or twice. All in all, this fantastic and perilous story is rather frothy, but worth the ride nevertheless.

A few quotes to whet your appetite for this fun-filled adventure:

“‘Julianne, you are possibly the sharpest sidekick that I’ve ever met,’ I said.
‘That’s because I’m not a sidekick,’ she called over the noise. ‘I’m your partner.'”

“There are times in any master adventurer’s life when all eyes are watching him and he has to do something bold and brilliant.”

“Doubtful friends are worse than enemies, and fire ants are the worst of all.”

“The more people you care about, the more there is to scare you in the world. And yet, if you didn’t care about people, there would be nothing worth protecting.”

“He who endures will conquer. So will he who never gets stung by a blister beetle.”

“That’s what partners in dazzling schemes and grand adventures do. They stick together.”

“That’s the thing about thrilling adventures. They change you, whether you know it or not.”

The Ice Sea Pirates by Frida Nilsson

According to the author blurb in the back of my book, “Frida Nilsson is a leading Swedish author who won the Astrid Lindgren Prize in 2014. Her books have been translated and published worldwide and nominated for multiple awards including the prestigious Youth Literature Prize in Germany. The Ice Sea Pirates has been nominated for five major awards, including the August Prize, and won of [sic] three of them.”

Well, I can see the virtues of The Ice Sea Pirates. The plot hangs together well. The characters, especially Siri the heroine and protagonist, are engaging and believable. The themes of courage and compassion for all living things are woven into the story and into the journey that Siri makes to rescue her little sister, Miki, who has been kidnapped by evil pirates. The ending is good, even if it is somewhat ambiguous and bittersweet.

Nevertheless, it seems to me that something is lost in the translation. Siri, although she is mostly a brave and likable character, goes on long crying jags at crucial moments in the story:

“I cried. I cried so hard my chest hurt.” (p.80)
“A woman came past as I sat weeping by the water.” (p.83)
“But I just carried on crying and for a long time we just sat there, me sobbing and Nanni with her hand on my back. She tried to comfort me several times but it didn’t work.” (p.100)
“And I wept about everything, about the boxes and the hat and the dice, about people who made purses out of mermaids, about everyone who took more than they needed.” (p.197)
“I burst out crying. It went on and on; I didn’t even try to hold back the tears.” (p.230)
“It made me so sad and angry that a huge lump grew in my throat and I gritted my teeth against the tears.” (p.266)
“Watching this made me feel ill and I wept to see the wounds on the wolf’s hide. . . I couldn’t stop crying.” (p.292)
“That night I lay in bed and wept.” (p.302)
“I didn’t answer, just went on crying.” (p.303)

I probably missed or skimmed over a few crying episodes. Not that crying isn’t the proper response to many of the cruel and sad experiences that Siri has in the book, but the frequency seems excessive. Maybe it’s a Swedish thing?

In addition to the excess of tears, there’s a certain ambivalence about how animals are treated, how they should be treated, whether wild animals are dangerous or friendly, and just the attitude toward animals, especially wolves, in general. Are the animals in the story to be used for food or not? Are the wolves to be feared or tamed? Siri has a heart for the animals that she encounters that are being used or mistreated, but even though she doesn’t approve of what one hunter does to catch wolves, Siri eats the wolf meat when she is hungry anyway. She repeats the adage that one should never take more from “nature” than one needs, but there is no resolution in the end with the pirates and the hunters and the slavers, just an armed truce.

It’s a book worth reading, especially if you are interested in Swedish children’s literature or pirate stories or “northerness”, but in the end it’s one I would only recommend to a select few readers who have a special interest in those topics.

The List by Patricia Forde

The List is a rather illogical ecological dystopian story about a future Earth in which the survivors of a disaster, caused by global warming/climate change, congregate in the city of Ark. In Ark, language is limited to an approved list of only 500 words, since the corruption of language and advertising and slick persuasion made Earth’s inhabitants ignore the warnings of eco-prophets who told the people that the planet was warming and apocalypse was imminent.

“Then came the Melting. The ice that turned to water and flooded the planet, the sea devouring everything in its path. Towns and villages swallowed whole. The old technology destroyed. Animals extinct. And all the written word gone.”

Letta, however, is apprentice to the official Wordsmith, the person charged with retrieving and preserving all of the old words, to hold them in reserve for a day when it will be safe again to allow people to use a multitude of words. When mankind has again learned to use words responsibly and wisely, then the Wordsmith and his apprentice will have the words, stored away where they can do no harm in the meantime.

The villain in this story is loopy; he thinks that taking away from people the power of speech will somehow make them wise and discerning, unable to be fooled by false persuasive speeches and writings. Or maybe he just thinks he is right, everyone else is wrong, and so taking away words will force the people to obey him. But if they have no power to speak, no words, how will they know anything? How will they obey if they don’t even understand what they are being told to do?

The ending of this one is a set-up for a sequel, so expect book two to follow shortly. The List is Irish author Patricia Forde’s debut novel. Fellow Irish author Eoin Colfer (Artemis Fowl series) blurbed The List as “the fantasy book of the year.” So, opinions may vary.