Monica Furlong (1930–2003)

I read this because it was a friend's beloved childhood book, and I'm so glad I did. It hit me right in my pagan, "living in the rhythm," kitchen-witch heart. I have aspired to be Juniper my entire adult life, and I didn't even know it.

This would be a hard sell for most contemporary kids I know. It's slow. The pacing feels old-fashioned: languorous descriptions of the light falling across the floor, the milking of the cow, the gradual coming to terms with being Juniper's ward... punctuated show more by occasional adventures. The GR description makes it sound like Wise Child choosing between Maeve and Juniper is the major story arc. It is part of the main emotional arc, which is Wise Child choosing Juniper over both Maeve and her village, but as a plot point Maeve is one two-chapter adventure among others. I probably wouldn't try it on anyone who isn't used to reading old-school agricultural-adventure books. It's most akin in feel to "what if [b:Understood Betsy|347151|Understood Betsy|Dorothy Canfield Fisher|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1388985862s/347151.jpg|3234038] were set in [b:The Mists of Avalon|402045|The Mists of Avalon (Avalon, #1)|Marion Zimmer Bradley|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1388857089s/402045.jpg|806813]?" I am here. for. that, it turns out, but I'm not sure most current kids are. show less

For many, at least of my reading generation who were just too young to miss the turbulent sixties and publication of the Seven Storey Mountain, Furlong’s biography of Merton was the first oeuvre we grasped into his life and work and meaning. Furlong wrote well, tenderly and with a fine scholarly grasp of her subject, and her book deserves a top shelf place in the Merton catalogue.

Yet something is missing. Not, as some would wish, the salacious details of did he didn’t he with Margie show more Smith, which really are none of our business, or the similarly breathy suspicions that he committed suicide (likewise not our business), but something deeper, something in the narrative that catapults him from zany, questing, terribly human monk to celebrity. In this telling it happens too soon, too inexplicable. One moment he’s a tortured soul, exorcising his demons though institutionally imposed flagellation, the next he an exhausted celebrity (still exorcising his demons though institutionally imposed flagellation).

I need to know more of the journey from tonsure to Seven Storey Mountain, know more of the writer in Merton that refused to be suppressed by the Trappist regime he chose. And I need to know more of the spiritual and sociological vacuum in which Seven Storey Mountain arrived and exploded across collective consciousness, catapulting its author to fame. I remember seeing Seven Storey Mountain on my elder confreres’ shelves, nestled alongside Carson's Silent Spring and Pirsig's Zen and the Art and Richard Fariña’s Been Down … what zeitgeist did Merton tap to be there? For an older generation, that of my parents', it even found a place alongside H. V. Morton (and Winston Churchill!). How did it and how did Merton come to register on the searching, collective consciousness of post war generations? What was the connection between the collective zeitgeist and Merton’s personal angst?

Furlong only hints at the end of her study at the commonality of monastic experience, transcending religious and cultural barriers, that Merton was embracing. I felt readers needed to know more of the individual Merton’s journey to that point, and more of the collective malaise that catapulted this angsty monk to stardom. Seven Storey Mountain is after all no easy read, and presumably it had to overcome readers' inertia to have the impact it had, it had to tap into enough spiritual hunger to overcome collective ennui and be read in an era that would soon opt instead for Chicken Soup for the Soul or One Minute Wisdom.

That said, Furlong’s biography was a powerful entry point for many to Merton, and deserves its place in the inner sanctum or Mertonalia. show less

This is a historical fantasy about an orphaned (or abandoned, as her parents are living but absent) girl known as Wise Child, who is adopted by Juniper, essentially the village witch. Wise Child struggles first with her own fear, then between the joy in her new life and the disapproval and fear of the villagers - especially the priest - and later between her love for Juniper and the temptation of living like a lady with her real mother, Maeve.

Wise Child has been one of my favorite books for show more twenty years, since I was a child myself. Fulong is not shy about letting Wise Child act like a child. She is stubborn, proud, and makes all manner of silly and dangerous mistakes throughout the story, some of which put her and even Juniper in serious danger. But she also matures from a selfish, spoiled child into an intelligent, thoughtful, loving (though still sometimes exasperating) young woman.

One of my favorite lines in the book is something Juniper says to Wise Child: 'You always feel someone must be to blame when you are tired or miserable or frightened, Wise Child. It may not be so at all - it may just be the weather of life - but even if they are to blame...does it matter?' show less

Summary: When Wise Child's grandmother died, there was no one in the small Celtic village to take her in: her mother had abandoned her and her father was frequently gone on long sea voyages. She is taken in by Juniper, who was a friend of her father's, but is widely feared among the village folk as a witch. Wise Child's afraid to leave the village and go live with Juniper in her house on the cliff, but under Juniper's warm and loving care, she soon comes to feel at home. Juniper teaches Wise show more Child to read, write, tend the herbs in the garden that are used to cure the ill, and the beginnings of her magical lore. However, Wise Child isn't truly safe, for her mother, the powerful sorceress Maeve, wants to control her, and the village priest is becoming increasingly intolerant of Juniper's presence. If she ever wants to live safely and happily, Wise Child will first have to determine where her loyalties truly lie.

Review: From what I can gather, it seems as though whether people love Wise Child (published first) or Juniper (a prequel, published second) more is entirely dependent on which one they read first. Since I read Juniper (repeatedly) as a child, and only found out that sequels existed once I was well into my twenties, Juniper gets my devotion.

Wise Child is a good read, though, don't get me wrong. It - like Juniper - is an interesting blend of historical fiction with some very plausible fantasy elements woven in. Both books also have a very sensible worldview about life and death and magic and power and love woven through them, motivating the story without beating you over the head with its Morals. The writing's geared for mid-grade readers, but doesn't feel facile to an adult, and the tone of the book manages to be simultaneously light and serious, when appropriate.

Wise Child loses to Juniper on two fronts, though. First, the title character manages to be even brattier than Juniper was at the start of her book, and even by the end, she's never entirely un-bratty. Secondly, the plot didn't seem to hang together very well; the danger that motivates most of the middle of the book is not the danger that eventually leads to the climax, making the whole thing feel a little episodic and disjointed. Overall, though, it's a quick-reading and enjoyable mid-grade fantasy, and I'm sad that this series isn't more widely appreciated. 4 out of 5 stars.

Recommendation: I'd recommend this to kids (and adults!) who like historical fantasy, stories involving witch trials, or ancient Britain. show less