Geoffrey Trease (1909–1998)

When Dickon kills one of the king's deer, the young Saxon peasant boy knows that punishment will be swift and severe. Fleeing to the safety of Sherwood Forest, he joins the band of the outlaw Robin Hood, and soon finds himself involved in a series of exciting adventures, from carrying a coded message into Nottingham, to spying in the court of his former master, Sir Rolf D'Eyncourt. But Robin, not content to be a forest robber, has a vision for a new society, and soon the outlaws of Sherwood show more are leading a great rebellion...

Originally published in 1934, and revised in 1966, Bows Against the Barons was Geoffrey Trease's first book, and it is - as the author himself acknowledges in his afterword - a young man's story. The style is sometimes a little immature - the Sheriff of Nottingham actually twirls his mustaches at one point - and the tone rather anachronistic. Characters scoff at various aspects of medieval society - religious pilgrims, for instance - in a manner that feels very modern. The great conflict is not, as is so often the case in retellings of the Robin Hood legend, between Normans and Saxons, but between "masters and men," have and have-nots. In fact, Trease continually emphasizes this point, using language and ideas that would seem more appropriate in a story set in the industrialized world.

Of course, the Robin Hood legend is one that lends itself to many kinds of rebellion, continually reinvented and perennially relevant, so it should come as no surprise that this retelling seems heavily influenced by the inequities and social unrest of its own time. Trease's tale, more historical fiction than fantastic fairytale, is well-told and exciting, whatever his stylistic weaknesses. The reader feels invested in Dickon himself, and although some of the Sherwood folk (Marian, Friar Tuck, Will Scarlet) are mentioned only in passing, Robin himself emerges as a charismatic leader and revolutionary thinker. Bows Against the Barons may not make my list of favorites, but it is definitely an enjoyable addition to my Robin Hood shelf! show less

Victory at Valmy by Geoffrey Trease is an excellent historical novel that became one of my favorite books as soon as I read it. I very much adored it, and I highly enjoyed the genuinely glorious experience of reading it. Geoffrey Trease has rapidly made it into the ranks of my all-time favorite authors--a status that was firmly cemented by this book. I've been itching to read more of his wonderful writing ever since I read Word to Caesar six months ago, and Victory at Valmy blew me away and show more more than lived up to my expectations. I highly enjoyed it, and I can't wait to read more by this author.

Also published as Thunder of Valmy, the novel Victory at Valmy is historical fiction at its best, and I marveled at the author's masterful writing, storytelling, wordcraft, historical knowledge, and characterization. The book was full of fascinating, lifelike characters; incredibly vivid and skilled writing; explosive, riveting action and intensity; heartwarming or hostile relationships; endearing main characters; thoughtful themes; and frightening antagonists. While reading, I was floored, mind-blown, and awed in particular by the wonderful main characters, richly woven words, and the power of the antagonist.

Note: There are minor spoilers ahead, especially in my discussion of the premise and characters, so if you've already heard of the book and want to read it, you may want to skip a few parts of my review until after you read the book.

The Premise:

When young Pierre Mercier is caught drawing a lifelike and disrespectful caricature of a nobleman, he has no idea what's in store for him. To his surprise, his punishment is being taken on as an art student by a famous painter--an older woman who is a skilled professional painter. As Pierre grows to be a young man, he develops his great artistic talent with the help of his mentor--and he is eventually caught up in the tumultuous main events of the French Revolution, along with a new friend--the young woman he is hired to paint.

My Thoughts:

I loved and enjoyed this book so much. I cared deeply about Pierre, his mentor, Madame, and his friend, Pauline. I rejoiced in their victories and happiness, and I was frantically worried when their lives were in danger--as they often were. While reading, I was more engaged and riveted than I have been in a book in a long time (due to a reading slump), and I couldn't put it down.

The writing style was masterful--stunning, crisp, fiery, and vivid--and I drank in every skillfully woven word, sentence, paragraph, line of dialogue, metaphor, and description. I loved the colorful, personal voice and narration of the protagonist--which I'll return to later. And I so enjoyed the wonderful wit and humor in the narration and dialogue. It's so rare that I read a book that's as exceptionally written as this one, and I loved every moment of it for that strength, as well as for every other wonderful quality of Victory at Valmy. I love reading authors so skilled that I can study their writing to learn the fine art of wordcraft to develop my own writing.

The historical aspect of Victory at Valmy was incredibly well-executed, as well. The author and the book truly make the setting and figures of the French Revolution come to colorful, electric life. Along with the main character, I was surrounded by and swept up in the explosive happenings of the French Revolution. I normally dislike and don't care about this time period, and I avoid the depressingly bloody horrors of the Revolution. But this author wrote it in such a wonderful way that I was fascinated by and invested in it, without being disgusted. The book never shied away from portraying the reality of the violent events and dangerous spirit, and the author truly conveyed the horror--but it was written carefully enough that it was never too gory, violent, or sickening for me, even though it did vividly portray those very qualities. In addition to this, there was so much fascinating--and never dull--detail about the people, land, and events of this time. The author clearly had a wealth of well-rounded knowledge on the Revolution, and he makes it come alive for the reader. I so appreciate the impeccable historical accuracy, and the vast amounts of careful research that must have gone into this book. I learned so much about the French Revolution, and unlike my college European history course--which this book brought back to my memory--historical fiction allows the knowledge to stay with me, since I connect to and care about the characters and story, and therefore the historical events. I love history, but some periods don't interest me until I read a compelling tale from the era. Victory at Valmy definitely caught my interest and my heart.

The book is engaging and fast-paced, often full of action and excitement, danger and peril. I was caught up in the danger and alarming intensity for most of the book, and I enjoyed every moment of it. It was more intense than anything I've read in a while, in just the right way. My heart was in my throat in many parts, and I was often paralyzed with dread of the threatened danger I knew would be fulfilled. All of this came to a head in the second half of the book, but it petered out for the last quarter of the book, which disappointed me. This was the book's only flaw, in my eyes, and I discussed it more in a later section of this review. The author skillfully built an exciting fictional plot for the main characters, while weaving their experiences into the larger explosive events of the French Revolution, which made for exciting experiences in themselves.

The Characters:

As I always do with stellar books, I enjoyed the characters of Victory at Valmy most of all. It's the most important aspect of any book, for me personally, and connecting with and caring about the characters is the most essential thing that influences my love for a book. Even if it's wonderful in other ways, I am incapable of liking a book if it lacks compelling characters. Of course, this wonderful book more than succeeded on that front!!

Pierre was a fabulous protagonist. He was determined, courageous, intelligent, kind, witty, talented, honorable, clever, artistic, and so much more. I loved watching him grow as an artist and grow into a young man in his wonderful coming-of-age story. I loved the way he took care of, protected, and cared about his dearest friends, Madame and Pauline. And I loved his wisdom, his sense, and his level head--which he so admirably retained even in situations that also filled him with passion or put him and his loved ones in terrible danger. I really, really enjoyed his first-person narration, even though I usually prefer third-person--but with this author, I wouldn't have it any other way, and I loved it. I loved how Pierre's narrative voice reflected his personality and was unique to him. His observant artist's eye, skillful wit, and descriptive ability came out in Geoffrey Trease's skilled writing and vivid, colorful description, which I noticed even more than in Trease's other books--it's appropriate and realistic given Pierre's talent and livelihood. I loved how the narration was so vivid and couldn't be separated from Pierre's character.

The other main characters were just as wonderful. Madame had such a strong and powerful presence. I loved her huge laugh, motherly affection, sudden temper, sharp intelligence, love of light, and far-seeing wisdom--and how her heart was as vast as she was herself. And I loved Madame's relationship with Pierre, as her student who, with time, became her surrogate son--it was so sweet how they cared about, took care of, and looked out for each other. And it was so, so, so refreshing to see an older woman as the sole mentor to a boy or young man! I've almost never seen that in fiction before, and it was wonderful.

Then there was Pauline--I loved Pauline so much! I loved her ready laugh and unfailing good humor, her feminine gentleness and grace, her spirit and spunk, her liveliness and brightness, her determination and strength, and her cleverness, curiosity, and quick-thinking intelligence.

I love everything about the portrayal of women in Victory at Valmy, and how the female characters are at once very strong and very feminine. At one point, Pauline was in terrible danger, and only Pierre could save her. And in the end, he did do so--but he couldn't have done it if she hadn't saved them both in a role even more essential than his--and he recognized that and praised her for it. He always looked out for her and protected her, in a very sweet, manly, and chivalrous way--but he was also very proud of the fact that she was strong and intelligent on her own, and was not a damsel in distress. I loved that. And I loved the relationship between Pauline and Pierre. I was so overjoyed at the portrayal of the platonic friendship between them that I nearly cried from sheer happiness at one point--it's so, so rare to find an author who portrays boy-girl relationships in such a sensible and sane way, and characters who value friendship above romance, and who stay friends before they move on to more. I was elated by the fact that Pierre and Pauline cared about being loyal friends above all else--and that even though they did have feelings for each other nearly from the beginning, they never mentioned them to each other and hardly gave thought to them until later. They handled their romantic feelings so wisely, and they took it slowly and gradually, not doing anything unwise or anything that they would regret--or that, in their case would even be dangerous, life-threatening, or worse. Pierre acknowledged that he was too young to support a wife, even if he'd like to get married--and to marry Pauline--and he chose not to proceed with romance until he was able to support himself. He was refreshingly and admirably committed to marrying her once he was able, and recognized that marriage is the best goal. But he also knew that it's always best to refrain from giving in to romantic passion, especially if marriage is far off or impossible--and he acted accordingly and with restraint. He treated Pauline as a good friend--not anything more--until the proper time, acting as if she was his sister, and he recognized that friendship is a wonderful thing on its own, and at times is more valuable than romance. And they both acted in an upright and chaste way, and could be certain of their own integrity and honor, even when the rest of the world assumed they were less than pure. It was so incredibly, amazingly refreshing to see an author portray romance in such a subtle, understated, and wholesome way, without giving in to foolishness or letting feelings take control. For most of the book, the romance only comes in tiny hints, but those hints clearly and unmistakably reveal the definite and wonderful romance that's behind them. Most modern authors have forgotten that understatement and subtlety is often so much more powerful than extreme, overdramatic portrayal, and I'm so glad to find an older author who did the former so well--and wrote gradual romance rather than have the characters kissing nonstop the day after they met--or even something else less extreme but still silly and unthinking.

In addition to wonderful main characters to care about, there were terrifying, fascinating antagonists, as well. The main antagonist was so well-written, and I was on edge for most of the book as I feared for the main characters' safety and well-being. His presence and the fear he caused through the whole book were powerful and frightening. I can't capture in my own words how chilling and menacing this villain was, but the small and large details of his voice, movements, and especially his actions and threats had me terrified of him. And all this was from a man swathed in extravagant embroidery and lace, who walked daintily--but who had a voice that was both suave and icily, alarmingly threatening. In addition to this man, another prominent antagonist was just as terrifying in his own terrible way--and as with the main antagonist, one of the most terrifying things was this person's connection to the protagonist. Just as importantly, the antagonistic forces of the French Revolution, and their effect on the people of France, were powerfully portrayed. The author did a wonderful job of conveying the frightening madness and monstrosity that caught hold of so many people on both sides of the Revolution.

My Critiques:

There was only one aspect of the book that I disliked, from a writing standpoint. My critique is minor, and I absolutely loved everything else about the book. The one weakness I noticed was that the riveting intensity and steady pacing petered out toward the end of the book. I spent most of the book in terror for the characters, continually waiting for something terrible to happen, knowing that it was only a matter of time before it did--multiple times--and feeling the unbearable agony of anticipating it. But after the book delivered on this threat several times, ratcheting up the intensity and fear more and more, the story reached its greatest climax two-thirds of the way through the book--and then abruptly paused. After all the danger and fear of the book before that point, there was none for quite a while after that, even though there was danger and action in short spurts throughout the rest, with long lulls in between. And after that point, the main personal antagonist--the primary and most personal source of the fear and danger--was out of the picture for quite a while. When he did finally return, he seemed to have no power or danger anymore, and the former urgency of the book did not return in full. I understand that the author had to fit the personal events of the characters' lives around the larger and intermittent events of the French Revolution, which truly were spaced out over several years, but it really undermined the pacing of the book to have the biggest climax two-thirds of the way through. However, it's not the author's fault that there were months and sometimes years in between most of the major events of the Revolution. These events continued after the intensity of the more personal danger to the characters wore off, and the characters had a part to play in the big events later on, as well. But the urgency of the book was lost once the larger events no longer happened alongside an engaging struggle with the main antagonist.

My Recommendation and Rating:

I loved this book, and I can't recommend it highly enough to all readers of historical fiction, whether or not they typically enjoy the French Revolution. (I loved the book even though I don't like that era.) Because of the content mentioned below (mostly violence), I recommend it to a young adult and adult audience--teens and up. I would definitely not allow a sensitive younger teenager to read it, but I'm giving it to my teenaged brother without hesitation, and I know he'll love it.

I'm rating this book 5 stars, because it was absolutely amazing, and I loved it so much. If we're being exact, it may technically be 4.75 stars, because of one single critique I mentioned above that caused the last quarter of the book to be less amazing in some aspects than the rest. But that wasn't enough to dock my rating by much, and I loved it so much that I think it deserves 5 stars.

Content Summary:

Violence: This is a book that accurately portrays the French Revolution. Violence is a given. But unlike most such books, this one portrays it in a way that doesn't go over the top or seek to horrify the reader unnecessarily. It was never too much for me--for reference, I can handle a moderate level of violence but not extreme violence. However, the book does not shrink away from portraying the reality of the violence and horror of the Revolution as it truly was. The author balances these two sides so well. Yes, there is violence, blood, and gore, but it's not gratuitous or unnecessarily graphic. I'm writing this section several weeks after the fact, so I'm only covering what i remember, and I didn't originally intend to write more than a brief summary of the content. Rather than an exhaustive list, here is an outline of the worst instances of violence the book contains, which gives an idea of how bad it gets. Nearly all the rest was more mild, but was present throughout much of the book. A wild, violent mob carries a severed, bloody head on a pike. It is described to some degree, but not overly so. The protagonist is sickened and chilled by the sight. That is the most grotesque and gory instance of violence. On a different occasion, a furious mob is worked up to a frenzy, and storms an estate with makeshift weapons to burn it and its occupants to the ground (this fire and other burned-down estates are described). Soldiers fire from a building into a crowd, and many people are killed and wounded (blood, bullets, etc. are mentioned), including a supporting character. The protagonist witnesses a battle between two armies with guns and cannons--shooting, explosions, and danger are described, and men are wounded, but this isn't as graphic as other instances of violence in the book. A character who the protagonist knows becomes a horrifically cruel person with a twisted, monstrous mind, and this character makes violent threats against his enemies. One character threatens another character with a pistol, with the intent to shoot if necessary. There is a technical description of the invention of the guillotine and how it worked, before it began to be used. There are other, mostly milder, instances of violence, but nothing worse than these.

Sexual Content: This book contains no sexual content. There is very mild, very pure romance, with no kissing or anything else of that sort, or even milder things like touching. I wrote more about it earlier in this review. The characters conduct themselves with the utmost purity, but other people wrongly accuse them of being less than chaste--which is not their fault at all, since they were careful even about appearances and reputation. It is mentioned that people think the main couple wants to elope, but they already know they'd never do that. A teenaged girl's unsavory guardian wants to betroth her to an old man, and she hates the thought. Society of the day required chaperones for decorous young men and women, and the characters talk about how it's improper to be without a chaperone. There may have been other mild things such as this that I'm not remembering, since it took me several weeks to finish a few sections of my review. But I don't believe there was anything that wasn't along these same lines.

Language: Mild language/swear words. I didn't write down the details while reading--oops. I do distinctly recall that there were a couple of infrequent instances of h**l, usually either in a quote of a common saying of the time, or used in the narration in an accurate, literal sense (e.g. in a metaphor or simile), referring appropriately to the real place--but this was limited to a very few instances, and they didn't bother me (though they would bother someone who minds that). There may also have been a couple of instances of d**n, but nothing much worse than those.

Other Content: A young woman's guardian--her uncle--is cruel to her, and he uses his position of power over her to control her in many ways and to force her to obey his demands. (For instance, controlling who she's friends with, forcing her into a marriage, and threatening her with punishment if she does not obey.) He's cruel to everyone else as well. show less

Peter, a boy from Cumberland, is forced to flee his home when he's spotted trying the hit the wicked local nobleman with a rock. This sets him up for all sorts of adventures, including joining up with a traveling theater troupe, befriending a girl-in-disguise who's also a fugitive from home, meeting and working for Marlowe and Shakespeare in Elizabeth's England, and finally becoming a spy in her majesty's service to help foil a treasonous plot against her, which takes him full circle and show more right back to his homeland.
There are stretches of time when I consider abandoning my goal of reading through the 1001 Children's Books list because I've found so many of them not to my taste, but then one comes along that restores my faith in the project by virtue of being such a wonderful read. This is one of those books. It's a fun and fast-paced romp from the beginning to the end, with great characters and a very enjoyable plot. I loved it. show less

Written in the highly romantic style of the Victorians, it is still a highly engaging life of a remarkable man.

Pepys grew up during the English Civil War, was a Roundhead as a boy and a Royalist as a man. His cousin Montagu was his entree into politics and royal circles. He had a brief naval career, and whilst in Holland, met the next three Kings of England - two of whom he would serve, and one who would end his career.

His diaries are wonderful sources for the Restoration, the Great Fire of show more London, and the Glorious Revolution.

This period in English History was not my forte, so this provided a slightly rose-coloured view. show less