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His is not the charm of the evil, but irresistable rake, nor is it the cutesy "I may be a spoilt brat, but am I not sooo lovable?" It is a talent for dealing with people in certain contexts, and many walks of life, combined with tremendous articulateness, a fine command of English (and, apparently several other languages) an eye for the intriguing, the ridiculous, the deep and the shallow. And a capacity for attracting the people and the disasters that he wrote about so inimitably.
King was artless about his talent. No bragging, no false modesty. The subject comes up repeatedly, but always in context and always naturally and inoffensively. (He was an artist and writer! What do you expect?) He had great wit and he had great humour. In all four of his autobiographies there are many passages that are dangerous to read with a full bladder and there is hardly a page without a light irony that never breaks surface as a grin. I shall not retail them here. I am not King. Read them yourself. And do not expect to read just another book of gags by a reminiscing humorist. King is beyond that. There is a great deal more of life in his telling, than I for one would have liked to live. The expressions he used, such as those quoted by other reviewers in this column, are plentiful, frequently creative, and apposite. But those are frosting on a very substantial cake.
I cannot understand why his books are out of print. Such a combination of entertainment, talent and charm, not terribly dateable in the sense of being tediously topical; I should have thought it to be an instant classic of indefinite appeal. His writing is rewarding at several levels, ranging from gags to art and sociological comment. If you read it without profit, then I am afraid I have nothing to say to you, for we are mutual aliens.
But for anyone who has read this far through this review, I recommend King's books urgently and without reserve. I meant every word of the title. I have thousands of books, but I frequently re-read King's four, usually beginning by dipping in, then growling about no time to spare, and re-starting from the beginning.
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Lidi is an excellent magician, but there is one magic trick that she doesn't know: The fabled rope trick. She and her kindly mentor Jericho rescue a neglected orphan from an abusive innkeeper, and find that little Daniella can predict the future. No sooner have the two made her an "Added Attraction" (she predicted that too) than they encounter a young outlaw named Julian sleeping under their wagon. A scuffle with soldiers sends them on the run to another province.
There they bump into many different people who have encountered the strange magician Ferramondo, who is seen differently by every person. He also knows the rope trick. Lidi begins a desperate search for Ferramondo, convinced that she will not be a true magician until she does. But sinister men are trying to get hold of Daniella for their own gain, and Julian is seeking revenge against "Baboon," the man who killed his uncle and drove him to become an outlaw.
This book is somewhat different from most of Alexander's books. The protagonist is a young girl rather than a boy (even the Vesper Holly books were narrated by a man) with a sad past, and there are more serious, melancholy themes. Julian in particular is a break from Alexander's naive young heroes-in-training, who learn their lessons along the way. It's also full of more introspection, as Lidi often stops to contemplate herself and others. The love story between Lidi and Julian is handled with delicacy, and goes very gradually over the book.
Perhaps the biggest problem is the finale. It's more than a little difficult to understand why what happens does happen, as it doesn't really seem to be entirely connected to the plotline behind it. It is, however, an interesting development and opens possible paths to a sequel; the various subplots are woven together like... well, like a rope. Alexander's writing is spare but amazingly evocative, and his dialogue is full of the same pep and charm as ever.
Fans of Lloyd Alexander will find an enjoyable tale of magic and mystery, and newcomers will enjoy this introduction to Alexander's work. Not his best, but a very good read.
This book is brilliant, a challenging work designed to tax the reading and comprehension levels of young teens. Besides giving away a major part of the ending, Peters badly misconstrues major themes in the work. This is a book about how we see God - in our own image, mostly - and how we each find our path to God. It is a major book for young teens that addresses issues such as causes of sectarian conflict as well as the individual's relationship to the Divine.
Read this book, and more importantly get your your young teenaged readers to read it, and then discuss it with them. You and they will not be disappointed. Ignore anything Peters writes - same result.
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*In the Yearling edition of the book.
I've loved Lloyd Alexander's classic series ever since I read "The Book of Three" in elemantary school. A well-chosen Christmas gift from my parents ensured that I got my hands on the next four books, concluding with "The High King".
One of the strengths of this series is that the characters learn and grow from one book to the next; it's great to see Taran from "The Book of Three", who reminds me rather of myself at that age (*grin*) grow up to take the responsibilities he has earned by the end of "The High King".
Alexander's use of Welsh mythology is excellent and for the most part right on target, though Arawn isn't quite as malevolent a figure in myth as he is in the Chronicles of Prydain, and the Gwydion of the Mabinogion is as much a trickster as he is a hero. (This isn't really a criticism; these are books for children, and I know that making Arawn and Gwydion more ambiguous characters would have confused me when I was younger.) The Triple Goddess, the people of Twylyth Teg, the people of Llyr--they're all here, forming a seamless and very real-feeling backdrop to the main characters' adventures.
Older readers may be interested in checking out the Mabinogion, the main body of Welsh myth that has survived the ages, after finishing this series. Gwyn Thomas and Kevin Crossley-Holland's "Tales from the Mabinogion" is an excellent edition to try, with beautiful illustrations.
Overall, the Chronicles of Prydain remain among my favorite stories, with "The High King" the best of the lot. I highly recommend them.
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Bagoas is born into an aristocratic family; the turmoil following the death of King Ochos claims his father, mother and sisters, and he himself is castrated and sold at the age of 10. The twin horrors are followed in time by another; Bagoas is himself sold by his master to other men as a prostitute. Procured for King Darius, Bagoas's lot changes only slightly; instead of being sold to many men, he is kept by one man, a King he holds in awe for his station, and not out of personal admiration.
Darius has made the mistake of underestimating the young Macedonian King Alexander, who at 20 undertakes the reconquest of Greek cities in Asia Minor. But Alexander closes in on the Persian Empire, and Darius suffers one defeat after another until his own warlords lose faith in him. When a coup sees Darius taken prisoner, Bagoas escapes with only his life. In time he is rescued by one of those warlords, who decides to beg Alexander for clemency. Who does he bring to sweeten the plea? Bagoas--as a gift.
Alexander is presented by Renault as a man capable of more than mortal feats who is still reassuringly human--more than that, he needs love desperately, from the hero-worship of the soldiers who follow him to the intimate devotion of his lover Hephaistion. Bagoas has never known love at all, only use. When Macedonian King and Persian courtesan meet, the inevitable happens--and this is where the enchantment begins.
Renault's mastery is impeccable. With a few well-chosen words, she conjures the images of the great Persian palaces--the ruins at Persepolis, Susa, Ekbatana, and Babylon; she recreates the travels of the Macedonian army so well that any reader who picks up her companion book "The Nature of Alexander" will look at the pictures and exclaim, "I know this! This is--" and name the very scene. But it is her characters that truly live. Bagoas is keenly intelligent, charming, courtly, sarcastic, prey to jealousy and possessiveness when it comes to his lover; his growing maturity merely adds to the pain he experiences as the affair and Alexander's conquests progress. And Alexander is much more accessible here than in "Fire From Heaven," which is a wonderful book but presents Alexander as all light and no fire. Here we get to see Alexander as preening boy, heroic warrior, pragmatic king, and devoted lover. It is a marvelous love story whether or not it actually happened.
But the emotional payoffs of the affair are balanced by hideous tragedies, none more affecting than the death of Hephaistion. Bagoas' quiet desperation to keep Alexander with the sane and living is agonizing with the knowledge that Alexander did not survive his lover by more than three months. Renault foreshadows without laying it on too thick, but it's worth noting that the portents of Alexander's death were recorded by historians, and the ancients paid close attention to that sort of thing. The final quarter of the book is grim, with only a few moments of light, and the most poignant moment is when Bagoas, having kept watch over Alexander even after his death, finally gives way to the Egyptian priests who come to embalm the Macedonian.
It isn't all romance and grief. Bagoas is, after all, only sixteen when the affair starts; he's prey to insecurity about his place in Alexander's heart, and his two antagonists are Hephaistion, Alexander's lifelong love, and Roxane, the legendary beauty who becomes Alexander's wife. With Hephaistion, Bagoas indulges in the sort of reverie that anyone who's ever had a romantic rival can identify with (stopping short of cutting him into little pieces and feeding him to the dogs). Roxane, on the other hand, earns Bagoas' hatred for good reason, and she is presented as everything Hephaistion isn't: clinging, vindictive, and devouring. Bagoas wryly notes that Alexander has, like most men, married a woman like his mother, and it's asides like this from him that make the story such an indulgent treat to read.
Like other reviewers, I will say that if you despise homosexuality and homosexuals, don't pick up the book. But if you can put aside prejudices and read for the sheer pleasure of encountering excellence in writing and losing yourself in another place and time, "The Persian Boy" is still in print.
This novel, while it appealed to me on a romantic level, also exemplifies the nature of love, be it between man and woman, or man and man, as a fevered, passionate longing for another, a sense of loyalty to them and to your relationship with them, during hard months of separation, and a desire to do anything to please and/or comfort them. However, the book also accurately recreates Alexander's journey of seige across Greece, and the hardships he and his followers endured. Readers would be hard pressed to find a more descriptive and honest look at Alexander the Great as a flesh and blood creature, and not just the conquering hero of many bloody battles which history books offer us.
I recommend this Audio CD highly. I don't believe you will be disappointed with it in any way.