History, Fantasy and Verse

As usual there is much ephemeral shoddy stuff among the Christmas books for children ; but some sparks shine in the ashes, books that lift the imagination and charm with their style. You may always expect to find one or two of these among the history books, for a conscientious reconstruction-of the past demands more than just hack work. This year there is some good fantasy too ; there is even a book of verse that will not wither.

Among the best histories is a German story—The Long Arcti, Night by Kurt Schmeltzer—translated into quite good English by Elizabeth Brommer (Oxford University Press. 7s. 6d.) A notebook

is found in an old chest ; it turns out to be the journal of a Martin Leukefeld, a lad from the Harz Mountains who, dispossessed

by his brother, sails as cook with Barents's expedition which set off

from Amsterdam in 1596 (not 1594 as the cover says) to find a passage north of Asia. The boy's relations with the other seamen,

the storms, the struggle with the ice, the final decision to winter on land are all vividly told. Then begins a Robinson Crusoe theme, the seventeen mariners having, as it were, to create something from nothing. They make a hut of driftwood ; they use bear's grease for light ; they build a stove and bunks. The long darkness and the frightful cold wear down the men's spirits, but they celebrate Christmas, cleaning their hut by chopping off the ice on walls and roof. There is a moving moment when suddenly the first gleam of sun appears over the ice hills. The captain will not believe it ; he says the sun is not due for a fortnight. He has misreckoned because the cold has stopped his clock, and they have lost a fortnight some- how in the long dark. Mutiny and dangers, work and inter-relation- ships make a wonderful story of endurance founded on the papers that Barents left in the chimney of the hut—papers that were not discovered till three centuries later. Finally come the hazardous journey home in tiny boats since the ship is unseaworthy, and the touching death of the captain.

lockin the Jester by Ursula Moray-Williams (Chatto and Windus. 9s. 6d.), a story of the fourteenth century, captures an aspect of the

Middle Ages which is seldom found in romantic tales—the animal-

like quality of the peasants, their utter subjection. "His work was hard and his life was hard. He lived in a wooden hut thatched with

straw and twigs, that let in the rain. . . . His food was poor and his clothes in rags, while more often than not he was too tired to be glad or sorry "—that is the father of the hero. Jockin the peasant, through a misunderstanding of his lord's witticisms, believes that his baby son is to become a jester at the great house, and the story tells of the success later of the bewildered silent gauche boy, who has to act as a fool and yet by his serious kindliness gradually becomes a treasured servant. The last part of the book—when the jester escorts to Shrewsbury some children escaped from the manor which has been fired by rebellious peasants—gives a sharp impression

of an empty England ',of bad wads, forestSnnd enormous distances. Not quite as sure in its touch butalso,a seripus study is The Wool- pack by Cynthia Harnett (Mettwen. I,141-6d). This is the story of the wool-trade in the ,fifteirrttivicentury,-wheik the Cotswolds were an

important-souree of revenue,and,it magly,concems the cunning of Lombard money-lenders who', -with the help of a dishonest packer,

are smuggling- bales of wool out of England. Domestic affairs, including a child-betrothal, journeys, a fair and work among the sheep, are all conscientiously described ; and- there are maps and historical notes at the end.

Among the fantasies C. S. Lewis has provided a sequel to his story of the strange fairy kindom where children became kings and queens. This is Prince Caspian, the Return to Narnia (Bles. 10s. 6d.). The children are drawn back to Narnia, but it is hundreds of years later and there is general decay with a usurping ruler. They join with his nephew to fight the tyrant, and the great lion Asian, the symbol ot

all that is mysterious and good, comes up from the sea again. The trees dance ; the animals talk ; even Bacchus performs his revels.

The story has an odd mixture of Gothic and Greek mythology, but it is all hushed into sanctity by the author's honeyed prose. The obvious master is George MacDonald. It is a mysterious ecstatic book.

Less widely-flung fantasy, but also with a feeling for the beautiful,

is offered by Barbara Leonie Picard in a second collection of her stories—The Faun and the Wood Cutter's Daughter (Oxford Univer- sity Press. 7s. 6d.). This author savours her style: she has a woman writer's delight in flowers and colours. But her stories—of witches, princes and fairies—have plot and keep going. She uses the old device of folk-tales, the repetition, the duke going to the north, to the south, the east and the west, but her magic world is kinder than the Grimms' world. The publishers suggest this book,for the eights to elevens, but some of the stories, particularly that of the witch who sacrificed herself for the king, might appeal to older girls. For younger children is Rumer Godden's The Mousewife (Macmillan. 6s.)—the adaptation of a story "written down in her journal by Dorothy Wordsworth for her brother William." This is a flat picture-book mid the text is short. It is the story of a mouse who, unlike her family, is curious about the world outside ; she hears stories of field and skies from a caged pigeon, but finally, since it is pining away, .she frees it. Miss Godden, too, has a hint of poetry in her prose, and the tale, though slight, is distinguished. Those who have enjoyed Eleanor Farjeon's verse for children— she has been writing for 35 years, the publishers say—will be glad to see her collected poems in Silver-sand and Snow (Michael Joseph. 15s.). In her foreword Miss Farjeon explains how "in my youth I dreamed of being a ' real ' poet, but half-way through my life the dream died." Certainly these gay singing rhymes are not concerned with great themes, and they are mostly short, but if it is a mark of poetry to imply something larger than is actually said then Miss Farjeon has produced poetry of its kind. "Sage for the Scholar, And Balm for the Old," "He's gone, And I am nothing," "It might lead you to the brink Of—oh well, of anywhere "—she is constantly opening shutters. She is reminiscent of de la Mare and of the Elizabethan and folk rhymes she loved so much in youth ; and there are enough poems here to be read and reread for years.

Among reprints appear two Arabian Nights—one adapted by Andrew Lang (Longmans. lls. 6d.) and the other by E. Dixon, for one of Dent's "Children's Illustrated Classics : (8s. 6d.). Both editors have gone back to Galland, the Frenchman who introduced the tales to Europe at the beginning of the eighteenth century, but it is probable that the Lang will be more to the taste of children, for the stories are shorter (and therefore more numerous) and less mannered, and there is an explanatory preface. Both, however, are handsome books.

' A Rose Fairy Book of Andrew Lang stories is now added to the eight available in other colours (Longrnans. 10s. 6d.). The Rose Book has talesfrom France, Italy and Spain ; and, read after the Arabian Nights, gives the feeling of having come home again. Lang's simple stately prose and his sense of the romantic do not date ; and this is a pleasant book, except for the pretentiously adult illustrations—illustrations so adult, indeed, that the child will prob- ably not look at them at all but create his own images of such characters as the princess in the dress of starlight or the lady who lay with a crown of gold and pearls on her head.

GVVENDOLEN FREEMAN.