Howard Pyle (1853–1911)

In classic fairytale fashion, a young man returning from war helps an old man across a river, only to discover that the old man is King Stork, who offers him help whenever he needs it in exchange for his good deed. When the drummer man reaches town, he learns that the princess will marry any man who can answer a question she puts to him, and who can ask her a question she can't answer, and catch a certain bird. Using the whistle King Stork gave him, the young man outsmarts the princess - show more secretly an enchantress who flies through the air to visit a one-eyed witch at night - and avoids having his head cut off. He answers her question, stumps her with his own, catches (and kills) the one-eyed raven, and follows King Stork's final piece of advice: to pour fresh milk on the princess and beat her with a switch(!). And then...happily ever after?

(I'd love to see Alix Harrow get her hands on this for a retelling...)

Quotes

"But the drummer trudged on the way he was going, as merry as a cricket, for it is not everybody who cracks his shins against such luck as he had stumbled over, I can tell you."

"And so this story comes to an end, like everything else in the world." show less

While reading this I kept thinking what a shame it was that I hadn't read this as a child because it's just the kind of story I would have loved as a girl. Truthfully, as an adult I still love it. The prologue itself tells you that if you're a sourpuss and like to take things too seriously, you'd best stay away. I was always a tenant of "the Land of Fancy" as Pyle calls it, so I was very happy to spend time in between the covers of his book. I found myself laughing and smiling throughout all show more the many stories. I will say that I did not always understand the jokes Robin and his men made, the language is archaic and it was not always easy reading but it was always enjoyable. Robin Hood was my favourite Disney movie as a child and the Kostner version is still a guilty pleasure of mine, but little did I know how different the actuall adventures from the book were. The only time seriousness comes about is at the end, in the Epilogue, which I loved despite that I cried the whole time I read it. The only thing more I could wish for from this book was to actually hear all the many songs sung in it's pages. show less

If Howard Pyle were a corporation, he could have declared some extra dividends simply on the basis of my perfervid consumption of any of his works which I could find "yesterday, when I was young". This rousing tale of young Mile's Falworth's quest for knighthood and his rightful place in society is a classic of what was once called "improving fiction for boys", meaning, despite the odd phrasing, that the boys would be improved by the fiction (the fictionb was already good). It doesn't really show more matter that much of the grit of medievsal life is swept aside in the narrative: the historical info which IS vouchsafed put the "YA" historical fiction of our day to shame. show less

We all know the story of Robin Hood, right? Well, sort of. Some of the stories of this now well-known outlaw have been around long enough. A brief mention of him is in the 14th century Piers Plowman, and the oldest surviving text of a Robin Hood ballad can be found in a Cambridge Library manuscript dating from the 15th century. Why, then, would anyone care to read Howard Pyle's novel dating from the recent (relatively speaking) year of 1883?

While he was inspired by preexisting legends of the show more mythological brigand, Pyle expanded on what he had heard and read in the 19th century, creating details, fleshing out legends, and even adding characters and events to the various legends and ballads. His book was so successful that it largely formed the basis of the Robin Hood myth as it is known today, making the thief a staunch philanthropist and doing a great deal to popularize him in the United States. As noted in a Wikipedia article, “The Merry Adventures also had an effect on subsequent children's literature. It helped move the Robin Hood legend out of the realm of penny dreadfuls and into the realm of respected children's books."

I submit that Pyle's novel made a significant contribution to folklore and materially altered (and perhaps enhanced) a popular folklore theme that continues to appear in various guises in both print and film into the 21st century. Accordingly, a familiarity with the book is well warranted. But is it, as it is usually described, really a children's book? How many other children's books run for 296 pages? Pyle also sets the stage for the adventures he describes by using a sort of Late-Middle to Early-Modern English vocabulary and syntax. I found this entertaining and surprisingly effective at maintaining the fiction that one is reading of ancient times, but the technique also means that one is likely to encounter a number of terms that are scarcely in universal usage today.

How many understand how long an ell is as a unit of measurement or relate to Michaelmastide? When is peascod time? What is a murrain (which I intend to use henceforth as an epithet as in “Now a murrain seize thee, thou scurvy dog”). Would you recognize an aged palmer walking along the highroad or speak of the bosky shades of the woodlands? How long must an arrow be to be a clothyard shaft? Are you familiar with samite white or could you make the best use of a cracked pipkin? Can you recognize a curtal friar from any other sort of friar? What does the novel's King Richard mean when he exclaims, “By my halidom...”? Thanks to Internet search engines, all of these terms are easy and quick to look up, and clarifying each is an enjoyable bit of exploration for an adult, but perhaps not quite so much fun for a child, so forgive me if I take issue at describing this as a children's book.

I find the book of historical importance from the point of view of a folklorist and of anyone else who appreciates knowing the origin of our contemporary view of the Robin Hood legend. Is it fun to read? I found it so (and not at all simplistic), yet there are those to whom it will not appeal. As Pyle himself says in his preface, “You who so plod among serious things that you feel it a shame to give yourself up even for a few short moments to mirth and joyousness in the land of Fancy; you who think that life hath naught to do with innocent laughter that can harm no one; these pages are not for you.” For the rest of us, the novel provides a fast, enjoyable, and (for those who take the time to look up some of the unusual vocabulary) instructive read. show less