The Lost Prince (1915)

The Lost Prince was one of my favorite books when I was in about the fourth grade. Marco and his father are wanderers, exiles from the Central European Kingdom of Samavia, which neither has ever seen in person. But it's obvious early on that they are no ordinary patriots living in impoverished exile and dreaming of home. Marco's father gives him all sorts of rules about what he can and cannot say about himself or his family, and they have a servant, Lazarus, who is prone to standing and saluting at a moment's notice.

Returning to London at the age of 12, Marco makes a new friend, Rat, a hunchbacked cripple, who proves to have exciting plans for how to retake the Samavia from the tyrants who have ruled it for five centuries. He and Marco soon set out on an exciting adventure across Europe, hoping to light the lamp for freedom in Samavia, while keeping two steps ahead of those who would do them harm. Will their plan succeed, and the Lost Prince regain his throne? Considering that this is a children's book, the answer may just be yes.

Vaguely reminiscent of The Prisoner of Zenda, The Lost Prince has not aged particularly well. Or maybe I've just aged too much to enjoy it as much as I once did. Much of the action derives from a home situation that many today would consider child abuse, but in 1915, of course, childhood was very different from today. You also get a very good picture of Edwardian views on ideal monarchs and proper behavior (and how this is bred into the blood -- a poor boy with noble blood behaves much differently than his peers). It's also rather long: my Puffin Classics edition says it's been abridged, but it still clocks in at over 350 pages. But for those who want to experience Burnett's books beyond the canon of Little Lord Fauntleroy, A Little Princess, and The Secret Garden, there is much here worth reading -- and with all the adventure it's certainly never boring. ( )

This is the story of a small fictional Eastern European country whose monarchy fell apart 500 years previous and of the people fighting to restore the crown. It centers on two boys, one an exile from the fictional country (the name of which I can't remember, even though I read the book this week) and one a street urchin from London, who travel from London to the fictional country, rallying loyalists throughout Europe.

If I had read this when I was a kid, it would have been one of my favorite books. It has everything I liked best: adventure, intrigue, a European setting, mystery, heroic children doing what adults couldn't, and long-lost royalty. Reading it as an adult, though, I saw every plot twist coming a mile away, particularly the climax of the story, which I nailed in the first or second chapter. A book like this isn't nearly as interesting when one has fairly well guessed all the answers. Also, the plot calls for almost impossible suspension of disbelief. Could two young children, not even high school age, travel from England to somewhere in the neighborhood of Poland? Even if they could, why would anyone fighting for the long-lost monarchy believe the boys? And what really made me wonder is why in every generation for 500 years, the heir to the throne wanted to return to the throne? Wouldn't it have been easier for one of the heirs somewhere along the way to become a doctor or a banker or a lawyer or something that didn't involve dedicating one's life to a cause one might never see accomplished? And how is it that every generation managed to have at least one son, all of whom were able to marry and reproduce before dying, considering the high infant mortality rates in all but the most recent century or two? And how come halfway through the book, these very European (very Victorian Male, really) people are suddenly revealed to be Buddhists? Weren't Eastern Europeans of the late 1800s/early 1900s much more likely to be Catholic or Eastern Orthodox?

Okay, so I'm probably overthinking a children's book, and I did enjoy the story when I didn't think too much. Still, if you're going to read Burnett, stick to A Little Princess or Little Lord Fauntleroy. ( )

This book is set in an unspecified time, probably some time between 1880-1900. Marco Loristan, a penniless but noble boy, is living with his father, an exiled patriot, who works tirelessly for his beloved, war-torn country of Samavia. 500 years ago, the true prince of Samavia was overthrown and forced to leave the country, and since then, two warring factions have alternately controlled and oppressed the little land. It's rumored that the descendants of the prince have waited, while a secret resistance movement gathered strength. Now is the time for the rightful heir of Samavia to retake the throne, but first, the members of the resistance scattered across Europe must be given the sign. Young Marco and his friend, a crippled boy known as The Rat, volunteer, since they can travel unnoticed and pass on the message.

The rest of what I have to say contains SPOILERS, so if you're intrigued, you may want to stop reading here.

I can see a few reasons why this book may not have reached as wide an audience as Burnett's more popular works. First of all, it's almost immediately obvious that Marco and his father are the missing royalty -- a big deal is made of Stefan Loristan's innate nobility, that inspires strangers to treat him like a prince even though he is living like a pauper. The Divine Right of Kings is pretty much assumed, though it's plain that Stefan and Marco will be good and benevolent rulers because of their training as well as their inborn greatness. Imaginary Samavia is not given a precise location, but it's clearly Eastern European, leaving the modern reader to suspect that Marco is unlikely to ever assume the throne, considering the fact that the Balkan Wars, WWI, and the Bolshevik Revolution are scheduled to hit that area within his lifetime.

Apart from that, I thought it was a moderately enjoyable read. I had trouble sticking with it; it never fully engaged my attention. Marco and Stefan were just a little too perfect for me. The Rat was a more interesting character, but he never seemed to get to share fully in the adventure -- Marco got all of the most dangerous bits. Which brings me to my final criticism: why on earth did Stefan Loristan let Marco and The Rat go wandering around Europe on their own at age 13? For one thing, what sort of father does that, and for another, what sort of king lets his only son and heir do that, knowing that there are lots of people out there who would like to end the royal line? I guess it makes a good adventure story, but it seemed a little off to me. ( )

Very disappointing. Not nearly as good as the writer's other books.

The lead character never spots the blindingly obvious fact that his father is the Lost Prince (this isn't a spoiler as the reader works it out in the first few pages).

Quite a bit of heavy-handed pseudo-Buddhist philosophy as well. ( )

Please note: some spoilers.

A boy's adventure story first published in 1915 -- while it's fiction, it's clearly inspired by real events and politics in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The book opens in London, where young Marco Loristan is living with his father in impoverished exile. Marco's father is a player in the politics of his war-torn homeland, the fictional country of Samavia, and has raised the boy to be a patriot even though Marco has never seen his homeland. They have travelled extensively in Europe, and the multi-lingual Marco has learnt to guard his father's secrets and pass as a local wherever he might be.

By chance Marco meets The Rat, leader of a group of London street urchins. The Rat is a cripple, but has a brilliant mind and a fascination with politics and military tactics -- and a talent for creating detailed stories to entertain the group he leads. The two boys bond, in part because both Marco and his father recognise and take seriously The Rat's grasp of military tactics, and when The Rat's father dies he is taken into the Loristan household.

Samavia is war-torn because for the last few centuries it has been squabbled over by two families of pretenders to the throne. The last true heir was lost when his father tried to kill him, but it is rumoured that he survived, and that his line still exists, waiting in exile until they hear the call to the return. When the time comes to send a message to the secret network of patriots that the lost prince has returned at last, the boys volunteer to be the messengers. As they point out, nobody will suspect two young begger lads, one of them a cripple. And so begins an adventure across Europe, as they take the signal to a variety of secret agents, avoiding traps and counter-agents along the way. The two boys are very different, but well-matched, and make an excellent team. Their travels and travails make for a cracking adventure story.

It's obvious to the reader from the first few chapters that Marco's father is the lost prince, but has deliberately kept Marco unaware of this. Marco is intelligent enough, but The Rat is a much more imaginative and lateral-thinking boy, and this is shown well as they progress across Europe and The Rat begins to suspect from the reactions of their contacts that Marco is rather more than he knows.

It's an interesting read from a current-day perspective. There's a clear assumption that the lost prince and his descendents are the Right Ruler because they're the legal heirs, and that Monarchy Is Good; but layered over that there are clear indications that Marco is a good person who will make a good king in future years because he has been brought up to be a good person and taught how to be an effective leader, rather than being so simply because of who his ancestors are. There's also a strong strand of Buddhist philosophy in the book, and it's made clear that part of what makes Marco's father an effective leader of the exiles is his encounter with and willingness to learn from a Buddhist guru. While he's willing to fight when necessary, he has learnt self-mastery and a willingness *not* to fight, and taught that to Marco. While the book's often rather predictable (in a way that is perfectly reasonable in a children's adventure book), it's rather more than formulaic. And of course there are now additional layers to the connections with real history, because Samavia is rather obviously set in what later became called Yugoslavia.

I enjoyed this a lot. If you've liked some of Burnett's other work, it's well worth downloading a copy of this one from Project Gutenberg and giving it a try.

It's available as a free download from Project Gutenberg and other public domain book sites, but because it's now out of copyright you can also buy it in a whole slew of POD print editions at Amazon UK and Amazon US. Personally, if I wanted a paper copy I'd look for a cheap second-hand copy of one of the old editions rather than one of the new expensive POD editions. ( )