Roger Lancelyn Green (1918–1987)

Many of the covers show a rather bizarre illustration: the sphinx is semi-buried in sand, but its paws are sticking out. I don't know who provided this cover illustration, but it is _impossible_. For a more realistic illustration of this story about the young prince and the sphinx, try "Secrets of the Sphinx" by James Cross Giblin or "Gods and Pharaohs from Egyptian Mythology" by Geraldine Harris.

It struck me that the last four of the tales in the section called "Tales of the Gods" should show more really be in a separate section called "Propaganda", as these tales were invented by various pharaohs to impart a special divine blessing to their rule. They were, of course, usually invented in the reign of a pharaoh whose rule might have seemed a little less legitimate. For example, the story of Hatshepsut's divine birth would have been put about because, for a woman to become pharaoh, rather than merely regent, was a bit out of the way and seemed like it required extra justification. show less

I enjoyed this re-read of the Norse myths. After having read Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology recently, I was more mindful of spotting the parallels; Gaiman has said that Green’s retellings were a big inspiration for him. It was also interesting to be reminded of the bits of the myths that I had forgotten, such as Ratatosk the squirrel, and the ship made out of dead men’s nails (gross). This is an accessible retelling of the stories, not quite as modern as Gaiman’s obviously, but it show more flows well and does a good job of just riding out the weirdness and absurdity that is often present in myths (“sure, gods can give birth to wolves”). show less

A beautifully rendered tale of Robin Hood pieced together from a variety of folk poems and ballads, updated from Olde English, and weaved into a single coherent narrative. Though there is no one "canonical" text for Robin Hood, I feel like this one does justice to the spirit of the story by utilizing these original sources and not (seemingly) straying too far from them. As a result, each chapter reads like a tiny adventure on its own, roughly tied together with the chapter in front and show more behind. This made it an easy book to read, as there was little fear you might lose a thread.

My experience with Robin Hood is almost entirely formed by Hollywood and Disney. Though there is no "canonical" text for the story, I walked away from Lancelyn Green's novel feeling as though I learned something new about the legend of Robin Hood. Is there any basis in truth for these tales? History.com writes "English legal records suggest that, as early as the 13th century, Robehod, Rabunhod and other variations had become common epithets for criminals. But what had inspired these nicknames: a fictional tale, an infamous bandit or an amalgam of both?"

We're unlikely to ever know, but this is part of the mystery that makes Robin Hood so enticing, and has allowed for so many interpretations (for good or for bad). Going back to something closer to the original tales, however, was a pleasant and enlightening escape. show less

Live fast, die young.

I read this book aaaaages ago. Middle school? I think that's when I read a bunch of these Puffin Classics. This is definitely exciting action adventure, with Green giving the action most of the emphasis. We're told often that Robin robs the rich and gives to the poor, but despite hearing how he takes hundreds of pounds from corrupt church officials, we don't get much indication of where that money goes. At one point he's raising a ransom of King Richard, and later we're show more told he sent it, but...when and how did it go?

In Green's telling, Robin's adventures are concise and quick--the chapters would make excellent campfire reading.

As an older reader, there were several interesting undercurrents I picked up on:
>> The simmering tensions between the Saxons and the Normans. In history class, invasions, occupations, and colonization often ends up seeming like a done deal, but here's the evidence that all is not well even a hundred years after 1066. I was rather impressed that at two points, Norman fathers whose daughters had married Saxons eventually chose to give up their anger for the sake of family.
>> Clergy were almost entirely corrupt, including Friar Tuck--I remembered (okay, okay, with help from the Russel Crowe movie) that he wasn't exactly a paragon of virtue, but he extorted tolls from travelers! How was that much better than the other clergy?
>> I was happy to see that Marian had as active a role as I remembered--yeah, it's not modern feminism, but she was basically her own action star AND she had some women friends as well, one of whom weilds a mean cudgel.
>> It was also interesting to see how often Robin was beaten by others, and how often he took it in good cheer and invited them to join him, not something you'd associate with gung-ho masculinity these days.
>> I picked up, too, on some dissatisfaction in the ranks for how often Robin Hood would get bored with the regular robbing-the-rich routine and wander off into trouble.
>> He's also not a perfect angel in contrast to the villains, though most movies make him out to be so: in one particularly dark scene (though I'm sure we're meant to see it as justice) he shoots down fifteen men tangentally involved in the death of his good friend.
>> There's more than a whiff of British classism showing through Green's interpretations, with the strict heirarchy of serf, yeoman, judge, knight, lord, etc., treated as the natural order of things; no one who's not insisting that Robin's an outlaw doubts that he is rightfully a lord. King Richard remains a perfect ideal from a distance, despite the fact that he--unlike Robin Hood--cannot escape but needs to be ransomed. And the King is, of course, stronger than Friar Tuck, Little John, and Robin Hood together. Like Robin, despite his responsibilities, he faffs around playing at the Black Knight before announcing himself. Way to get back to work, dude!

But most of the stories are light and airy, tales about Robin winning competitions; going in disguise to humiliate the Sherriff of Nottingham, the local bishop, and Prince John, rescuing friends (he doesn't actually rescue Maid Marian--she gets away from her father, Guy of Gisborne, and Prince John all by herself); and getting into friendly fights that end with a new recruit. There is a weird story with a witch in it, which just seems wildly different from all the rest, and stuck out so much from the other stories that I remembered bits of it over the years even if I didn't remember Will Scarlett or Allan-a-Green, etc. The biggest story of Robin's giving-to-the-poor kindness is when he helps a knight pay off a debt on his lands; other than that, it's all telling rather than showing.

I remember being surprised when I read this book for the first time that it actually ended with Robin's early death. He doesn't get a happily ever after: King John gets his revenge, forcing Robin, Marian, and Little John to flee their estate. In escaping, Robin is mortally wounded, though he somehow manages to play pirate with severe internal injuries before limping his way to the nunnery where Marian has holed up. At least he manages to see her and Little John on his deathbed.

All in all, good fun. Now I can read some of the Robin Hood retellings that I've been meaning to get to! show less