983 pages and less than twenty-four hours later, and I have finished the entirety of The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander! I was inspired to read these novels when Alex asked me for sci-fi/fantasy recommendations the other day. I remembered wanting to read this series because as a young child I loved the Disney film The Black Cauldron, and I recently found out the film was actually based on a book series. The books themselves were written in the 1960s, and winners of numerous literary awards, including the prestigious Newberry Medal.
The other day, my mother graciously Amazoned me copies of the books, so I started them yesterday afternoon, and I couldn't put them down until the last page!
A wonderful fantastic tale of Taran the Assistant Pig-Keeper, the books may be likened to The Lord of the Rings series as the Charlie Bone series is to Harry Potter. However, unlike Charlie Bone, the similarities shared between The Chronicles of Prydain and The Lord of the Rings are rooted more deeply in their strict adherence to their fairy-tale and mythological origins rather than a similar premise. Alexander also borrowed heavily from Welsh mythology, like Tolkien, and this fact is reflected in the names of all the characters and locations of Prydain. However, aside from deeper literary connections regarding themes, tropes, structure, etc. Alexander's books are certainly a force to be reckoned with in their own right.
The thing that most impressed me about the series was the pacing of the novels. Within only a few pages at the beginning of every book, you are thrown into the thick of the action, which doesn't relent until the final closing paragraphs of the novel. Perhaps it's because I have watched/read so many things with a slow burn, and have come to enjoy the drawn-out process, that I have forgotten that some works don't need to keep the audience enthralled with a slow build. Instead, the pace of these books is almost breakneck in how quickly they advance the action/plot of the narrative. This makes sense to me, as they're meant for children (with perhaps shorter attention spans to wait for a slow build), but what baffled me even more was how well it worked. I never felt like I was missing out on important character, thematic, or narrative development despite how quickly the books got to the thick of the action. Not to mention how much action is crammed into books that are less than 250 pages (indeed, the first three are less than 200 pages long). I hope one day to write a story with the same intensity and intentionality at the dizzying pace Alexander sets.
Aside from the pacing, the novels' thematic work was by far some of its most pleasing. A well-written children's novel is worth just as much as any Tolstoy for teaching people hard truths and valuable insight into both the world and the depths of humanity - and this series doesn't fail to deliver. Such themes the book explored included the value of friendship, hard work, honesty, humility, goodness, sacrifice, and, of course, love.
I was particularly pleased with how the theme-work was supported and advanced by clever storylines, excellent character development, and a well-crafted story. One such example is in the fourth installment, when Taran goes searching for the truth of his identity. The entire novel is about Taran's external quest to find out who he is, but the outward actions, deeds, etc. are all in service of the internal journey Taran undergoes. In fact, the entire series does this particularly well in ways that even threw me for a loop - for instance, Taran's gift of a single magical summons.
I assumed that he would use the summons at the height of a battle to call for aid, or some other type of external conflict, perhaps coming at the climax of the novel. However, instead, within a few pages of receiving the power of the summons, Taran chooses to sacrifice his call for aid to try and save a farmer who lied to him. However, the summons fails to come in time and the farmer still dies. The quickness of disposing of magical gifts/abilities is something that characterises this entire world, instead choosing to act under one's own willpower/talents/hard work. In short, showing how magical abilities don't solve every problem, and that to do an honest labour within one's own power has its own sort of inner satisfaction/honour/glory. And even if one is granted magic, that doesn't mean everything is "fixed" - tragedy/consequences are still present.
I really appreciated this take on how the characters used/interacted with magic/magical gifts, as it spoke of a consistent internal logic to the in-book universe, supported the thematic work of the novel, and forwarded the plot at the breakneck speed all in one go.
Moreover, as an adult, I still found myself firmly resonating with the simple truths the books present. One such deceptively simple truth was the value of honesty, and how being honest in cases where white lies are commonly used really doesn't hurt anyone. The truth is more valuable than the lie, and you won't be scorned for being honest (in a humble fashion). However, it was presented in the comedic character of Fflewddur, who constantly had to repair his harp strings whenever he told a white lie as a bard, telling of (too) great deeds.
And of course, the characters and plot themselves are highly enjoyable. No character is safe from Alexander's pen, however, as with all the twists and turns of the novel, any character is suspect to the chopping block. And the suspense of uncovering which characters would live or die throughout the series was just as nerve-wracking as any theorizing in Rowling's universe. Truly, the series did an excellent job of keeping me second guessing what would happen next, which, after you read a lot of books (particularly fantasy series), is difficult to do, but Alexander rises admirably to the task.
Taran's journey as an Assistant Pig-Keeper is thrilling and exciting, with excellent character development in which his pride and arrogance (perhaps the sins humans share in common above all else) are tempered with humility and wisdom, built through loss and grief. Truly a protagonist anyone and everyone can relate to, Taran's journey of humility is one of the most satisfying. Not to mention, the excellent side-plot of his love for Princess Eilonwy, which is one of the finest fantasy romances depicted, as she is a fierce and independent character in her own right.
If anything, my main critique is that you never go to Fflewddur's land, and I think a scene in his halls would've added to the series' already excellent narrative. Otherwise, I think that the books are overall some of the finest fantasy I have ever had the pleasure to read, and certainly aren't bound by any age constraints to enjoy. 5/5.
No comments:
Post a Comment