Category: Books

Books, families, favorites, fiction

Favorite Literary Families

elouisebates

The Blythes (Meredith children) (LM Montgomery):

These were the very first families to come to mind when it came to best literary families. Anne and Gilbert are completely impossible always-loving, always-patient, always-kind, -understanding, -wise, -funny, etc, etc, parents. Of course, maybe that’s not impossible when you have a Susan Baker to do all your dirty work – the disciplining, the maintaining the household, the practical day-to-day details. Heck, I want a Susan Baker! Maybe then I can finally be the fun mom I’ve always wanted to be.

Be that as it may, Gilbert and Anne are awesome parents, and the children are just as winsome and lovable as their parents. I confess to a special fondness for Shirley, the poor unmentioned child through the latter books, who merits only a few sentences in Rainbow Valley, and one or two lines in Rilla of Ingleside.

The Merediths are not so lucky as the Blythe children – in Rainbow Valley their mother is dead and their father is neglectful. Things have looked up for them in Rilla, but through it all they have forged a funny, kind, loving friendship between themselves that is charming. Whenever I think of great sibling friendships, I think of these two families first.

The Seven-Day Magic families (Edward Eager):

I enjoy all of Eager’s families, but these two sets of siblings (and their families) especially touch me. John and Susan and their eccentric Grannie (who is AWESOME, by the way), and Barnaby, Abbie, and Fredericka with their funny and warm parents. I like that their parents/guardians are neither stupid nor unkind nor dead/otherwise absent, and that much of the magic revolves around them. Grannie gets her own adventure, with the children coming along but very definitely playing a side part; and Abbie’s entire wish has to do with her father. Very, very fun families.

The Melendys (Gone-Away Lake cousins) (Elizabeth Enright):

After listing Rush and Randy among my favorite heroes/heroines, you didn’t think I’d leave the rest of the family out, did you? The Melendys are such a delightful family – they bicker, make up, support each other, tease each other, and above all, enjoy each other’s company – even Father and Cuffy. And when a new member of the family joins them in “Then There Were Five,” it just gets even better.

As for the Gone-Away cousins … Julian and Portia always reminded me of my cousin Zachary and me. We were inseparable as kids, getting into trouble and out of it, always finding adventures everywhere we went, even occasionally including the younger ones in our mischief. I love finding literary relationships that mirror those in my own life! Alas, Zach and I never discovered anything so wonderful as Gone-Away Lake and Aunt Minnehaha and Uncle Pin, but we had some pretty marvelous adventures of our own.

The Stanton family (Susan Cooper):

My dad is one of eight children, and reading about Will’s large, loving, normal family always reminded me of Dad and my aunts and uncles. I especially appreciate how each of them has their own distinct personality, from artistic Max to motherly Barbara to vain Mary – and especially, of course, the musical genius Paul, among the others. The friendship between Stephen and Will, eldest and youngest, is beautiful, and the poignancy as it changes when Will comes more fully into his own as an Old One makes me catch my breath every time.

The Wimsey family (Dorothy L Sayers):

We don’t actually see much of the Wimseys after marriage and children, but what we do is delightful. The views on parenting and individuality in children expressed in the short story Tallboys has shaped much of my own views – and this only in a few lines! But that is part of Sayers’ genius, that she wraps truths up in such simple phrases and presents it so clearly that one doesn’t need more words than a few (something I obviously have yet to attain, given the length of these posts). And the relationship between Lord Peter and his wife (working very hard here not to spoil the outcome of the series for those who haven’t read it yet by giving away her name) is just perfect.

The Beresfords (Agatha Christie):

The marriage between Tommy and Tuppence was always described as a “joint venture,” and the way that they shared in everything, from government work to parenting to running a detective agency, has always charmed me. Carl and I have taken occasionally to describing our marriage as a “joint venture” (okay, that’s how I describe it, but he always agrees), and we too try to share in everything as an equal team – each with our own strengths, but always working together.

The Pevensies (CS Lewis):

Others have described the friendship between the Four far better than I could – if you really want to see why I love them so much, go read Andi Horton’s Valley Verdant or Kingdoms Come … or any of her works, really. I will content myself with saying that they each have a very special bond with each other, and it is precious to see.

The Rays (Willards) (Maud Hart Lovelace):

The Rays, with the exception of Margaret (since we had only two sisters), always reminded me of what my family might have been like had we lived back in that era and been just a little bit wealthier. Julia and Betsy bicker as children and grow up to be the firmest of friends. Their parents love them and guide them but also trust them to make their own decisions and own mistakes, and are always there to help them pick up the pieces and move along. Mr. Ray even allows the girls to join a different church when they are able to tell him why, telling them he is prouder of them for thinking it through and wanting to be part of a church than he is sad that they want to leave the church they grew up attending. In that same scene, he gives them one of the best pieces of parental advice ever: “You might as well learn right now, you two, that the poorest guide you can have in life is what people will say.”

As for the Willards, as seen in “Betsy’s Wedding,” they are just fun and real, and I love, love, love reading about Betsy’s trials and triumphs as a young bride!

The Marches (Bhaers) (Louisa May Alcott):

There are many things people could criticize Mr. and Mrs. March for in their parenting, but they always loved their children unconditionally and did their best to raise them according to their principles. I have always appreciated Marmee’s work with Jo in learning self-control. I do not like how they always coddled Amy – but then I’ve never been able to forgive Amy for destroying Jo’s book AND for getting to go to Europe just because Jo was having one bad day, so I would have liked to see her thoroughly squelched by her parents once or twice throughout the book. Ahem.

As for the Bhaers, the love they showered on even the most unlovable of children through “Little Men” and “Jo’s Boys” is a lovely example of unconditional love. And the fact that they go about life in their own way, regardless of what society thought, is also delightful. The brotherly love between Teddy and Rob is so sweet, too.

The Fairchilds (Tuttle cousins) (Rebecca Caudill):

Not many people, I find, are familiar with the delightful books about the Fairchilds, or “Saturday Cousins,” which introduces us to the Tuttles. And it really is a shame, because both families are charming. Quaint, of course, hearkening back to that “simpler era” so many nostalgically yearn toward, but with everything that still makes a good family today – loyalty, friendship, love, trust, and guidance.

That same thread, in fact, weaves through all of the families on my list here. The same traits that my family always strove toward, and that I now strive to accomplish with my own family. In many ways, I look toward parts of these families for guidance in my own journey through these difficult waters of raising children. I am so thankful that literature, through heroes, heroines, and families, has given us all something to look up to, and something to strive for.

I may never be an Eilonwy, or a mother like Anne Blythe, or a brilliant and sensitive detective like Lord Peter, but they all can provide me with guideposts along my own journey. And really, what more can we ask of these fictional friends?

And the end of my “Favorite Literary …” series (unless you all can think of another list of “favorites” I ought to write)! Did your favorite literary family make it to my list? Who would you have added? Who would you have left off? Does anyone in the entire world actually like Amy March?

Books, characters, favorites

Favorite Literary Heroes

elouisebates

As I did favorite literary heroines last week, I thought it only fair to turn my attention to the men this week! Ready? I promise, I will try to be less wordy this time around. So, without further ado, I give you …

Lord Peter Wimsey (Dorothy L Sayers):

I first met Lord Peter in a library in Pennsylvania, a few years after getting married. I’m ashamed to admit that, newlywed though I was, I promptly fell head-over-heels in love and have never recovered. It took me ages to reconcile myself to Harriet Vane! (Possibly partly due to the fact that the first book I read featuring her was Have His Carcasse, so I got to see all her anger and bitterness without having a clue why – which made her very unlikeable. I mean, if you’re going to be Lord Peter’s love interest, at least be worthy of him!) I did eventually come to accept Harriet, and amusingly enough, Gaudy Night is now one of my favorite books – one of those I would take to a desert island if I was going to be stranded there a year.

Sigh. Lord Peter. It’s a good thing I met him after I got married. And a good thing my husband already knows about all my literary crushes, else this post might be slightly awkward!

Taran of Caer Dallben (Fflewddur Fflam) (Lloyd Alexander):

Taran Wanderer is another one of those books I would want to take with me to a desert island. It is the ultimate bildungsroman, a perfect coming-of-age story. I absolutely love how Alexander takes all of Taran’s notions about heroism and honor and glory and turns them on their heads – and then how Taran has to do all that he dreamed about as a boy, only it has lost its appeal, and he wishes to be a simple Assistant Pig-Keeper again. I also appreciate how the one thing he wanted to be the most he couldn’t quite master – because isn’t that how life really is? We don’t always get to live out our dreams; sometimes we have to let go of what we want the most and accept what life gives us instead.

As for Fflewddur, he is just a delight to read about. His tendency to stretch the truth because reality is so dull, his valor and nobility, his boredom with being king of such a well-run kingdom … such a joy!

Eustace Scrubb (CS Lewis):

Don’t get me wrong, I like Peter, Edmund, Digory, Caspian, Rilian, and Tirian as well – but Eustace tops them all. Perhaps because he is such an Everyman – we can’t all identify with High King Peter the Magnificent, or King Caspian the Seafarer, etc, but who hasn’t been an obnoxious jerk at some point in their lives? And to be redeemed from that so beautifully – not to a kingship, as with Edmund’s redemption, but simply to living a better life as Eustace – is wonderful to read.

And, I like his practical outlook on life, and his occasional snarkiness even after he is un-dragoned.

Martin the Warrior (Brian Jacques):

We had Mariel among the heroines, and now Martin for the heroes. Martin is everything a hero should be – brave despite his small stature; noble; loyal; true-hearted … he even has a secret sorrow from his past! His friendship with Gonff the Prince of Mousethieves is one of my favorite friendships in all literature (even better than Sam and Frodo, because there’s no nonsense about master/servant between Martin and Gonff). Martin leaves a legacy that carries Redwall through every danger and strife. He may be a mouse, but he has the heart of a lion!

Roger Hamley (Elizabeth Gaskell):

Roger Hamley is another one of those characters I wistfully wish was real. Although he does remind me of my husband in many ways … ahem. He is good and kind; he is loyal and faithful; he is both gentle and strong; he sacrifices his own desires over and over again for the good of others. Along with Molly Gibson, the reader learns to love him gradually over the pages of Wives and Daughters, and I, at least, always wanted to shake him for his incredible stupidity in falling in love with the charming but shallow Cynthia instead of valiant and quiet Molly!

Gilbert Blythe (LM Montgomery):

For any girl who grew up reading and loving the Anne books, Gilbert Blythe automatically became her ideal beau (I think – at least I’ve never met anyone who loves Anne and not Gilbert). Despite the fact that Montgomery doesn’t, in fact, flesh his character out very much beyond the first book, he remains one of literature’s best heroes. Anne’s House of Dreams is one of my favorite books of the series, not just because it introduces Leslie Moore, who is such a rich and full character, but because of the deeper glimpses we get into Gil’s character. The struggle he goes through in having to choose between the right thing and what his (and his wife’s) heart wants … he is truly a good man. And he loved Anne so faithfully for so many years, even when it looked like there was no hope – who could resist that?

Henry Tilney (Mr. Knightley) (Jane Austen):

Will I lose all credibility if I confess that I’ve always found Mr. Darcy rather stupid? I do, however, positively adore Henry Tilney. His sense of humor, the fact that he is not above teasing Cathy, his close friendship with his sister, his sense of honor and duty … he is a real, three-dimensional person, and a fun one, at that.

Mr. Knightley is on here both for his goodness (he is a true gentleman) and for the fact that his love does not blind him to the flaws of his beloved. In fact, he loves her so much that he has to do everything he can to help her become the very best person she can be, even if she never loves him in return. That didn’t sound very romantic to me as a kid, but now? Swoon.

Rush Melendy (Elizabeth Enright):

Rush is the ideal older brother, I’ve always thought. He almost always makes time for Randy, even when he is exasperated by her; he listens to her; he shares her same impetuous nature. Plus, when given a choice of anything to do by himself on a Saturday afternoon, he chooses to go see an opera. Siegried, no less, which brings back happy memories for me of staying up late on Sunday nights with my sister and parents to watch the Ring trilogy on PBS – my sister and I had never thought much of opera before then, but Wagner fascinated us. So I can identify with Rush there! I’ve also always like how he overcomes his reluctance to teach piano in order to raise money for the war (especially the unexpected outcome of his lessons with the school bully). He, like all of Enright’s characters, is a very human, very likable kid.

Will Stanton (Susan Cooper):

At age eleven, Will Stanton discovers he is not a normal mortal boy at all, but the last-born of the Old Ones, and is thus swept into a life of danger, adventure, and sorrow. Yet through it all, Will maintains his practical outlook on life, and his humanity even when he has to make the hard, cold choices. The Dark is Rising series is one of my long-time favorites, not just for the Arthurian thread that runs through it, but for Will himself. The youngest of a large family, friend to the Pendragon, quester for the Signs, nemesis of the Dark Rider … yet what makes him such a relatable hero is his utter normality through it all, the fact that you feel, but for the odd gift of being born an Old One, he could be anyone you know – the boy next door, maybe, or even you yourself. (And his attempts to learn the Welsh language always make me giggle, every time I read them!)

James Tarleton (Patricia C Wrede (and Caroline Stevermer):

In my heroines post, I mentioned how much I relate to Kate. Yet oddly enough, I see nothing of my husband in Thomas. Instead, he is very much a James. Almost everything about James makes me think of Carl, especially in The Grand Tour, when Kate is exhausted and weary and says how much she misses English toasted cheese, and James merely comments that she should get some rest, and then she’ll feel better. That is exactly the sort of thing Carl would do. Of course, Kate thinks about how glad she is that she isn’t married to James, as it would be very squelching to have a husband like that, but somehow, Carl and I get along just fine as we are.

Brother Cadfael (Hugh Beringar) (Ellis Peters):

I blame Brother Cadfael for giving me a romanticized view of monastic life in the medieval age. Not that Peters whitewashed anything (at least, I don’t think she did), but Brother Cadfael made being a monk seem AWESOME. You could have close communion with God and still have a hand in everything that happened in your corner of the world. Nothing happened without Cadfael knowing about it, and certainly his understanding of grace, hope, and love were advanced far beyond his day and age.

Hugh was of a different sort, but just as terrific. As under-sheriff and then sheriff, he recognized his liege’s flaws, yet stayed by him loyally. He upheld the law to the letter, and conveniently turned a blind eye to Cadfael when morality and justice didn’t quite match the law. He could not go against the law himself, but he could let his friend do so without a qualm. Cadfael and Hugh’s friendships is one of the best in all mystery literature, not least because it is most definitely not Holmes-and-Watson. Hugh is not the idiot sidekick, but a worthy detective and human being in his own right.

Wil Ohmsford (Terry Brooks):

The Elfstones of Shannara was the first Brooks I ever read. I got it from the library without ever having heard anything about Shannara or Terry Brooks; I picked it out based solely on the cover art and the fact that “elfstones” sounded really cool (I was young at the time!). Despite the fact that much of it was probably too old for me, I devoured it and loved it (the only other Shannara book our library had at the time was Druid of Shannara, which meant that for the next several years I bounced between both Shannara series, never knowing for sure which era each book I discovered was going to be set in, and getting completely confused until I had finally read all of them and could start setting them in order in my mind … proof of good writing, that I didn’t just give up out of frustration!). Wil, I liked not just for his part-human, part-elven heritage, which was a fairly new concept to me at the time and seemed very daring. It was his reluctance to do his part of the quest – not just because he didn’t think he was worthy (although that was part of it), but because he was morally opposed to what he was being asked to do (kill), and yet it was the only way to save the world, and he the only one to do it. That battle that he went through was what really drew me in, and what kept me coming back to the Shannara books even though I could never keep straight who went where and what happened when!

Well, that wasn’t quite so lengthy as the heroines. As with last week, which ones do you agree with, which ones would you have left off the list, and who would you add?

Next week, I think, will be favorite literary families (which will most likely be a much shorter list). Will your favorite be on it?

fiction, influences, writing

Influences: Lloyd Alexander

elouisebates

I’ve been thinking about doing a series of posts on authors/books/series that have influenced my writing the most over the years … those are the sorts of series I always enjoy reading from other people, seeing what has gone into forming their writing style. And sometimes it helps me discover authors or books I otherwise might never have known!

So, to begin: I considered doing, for this first post, something on the first writer who influenced me, but instead I decided to look at the writer who has been the biggest influence on me, my writing and my life. That writer is …

Lloyd Alexander.

I can’t remember, exactly, which of Alexander’s books I read first. It was either a Vesper Holly or The Wizard in the Tree. Whichever it was, I was immediately hooked. I read voraciously through all of his works in our local library. The Westmark trilogy, though I know many people don’t care for it, was the one that affected me the most, however. The very fact that there was no magic in it, that though a fantasy it was very real, and very grim, brought it much closer. Theo’s struggles with morality, especially in Kestrel; Mickle’s journey to finding herself and her place; Sparrow and Weasel and Keller … I don’t think I’d ever read something that touched me quite so deeply. (Oddly enough, I found myself mostly unaffected by Florian and his children.)

Alexander is best known for his Prydain Chronicles. I only started reading those after I’d already read most of his other books. Not by design – simply because our library didn’t have all of them, and I hate only reading partial series. It wasn’t until I started visiting a different library, which had the entire series, that I read them and fell in love with the Assistant Pig-Keeper and opinionated Princess Eilonwy.

For my own writing, Alexander’s use of humor, and his ability to tell a full and rich story with only a few well-chosen details, have been what I have studied the most closely, and tried to incorporate into my own works.

As a human being, the ideas he portrays about heroism, sacrifice, love, and life have been what I have tried to incorporate into my daily living. The very best writer does not just present a good story, but through his story inspires you to be a better person, and that is what Alexander has always done for me.

His final book, finished right before his death in 2007, is The Golden Dream of Carlo Chuchio. I usually prefer to buy books in paperback, but I pre-ordered that one, in hardcover, to come as soon as it was published. As with all his others, it blended humor and truth in perfect proportions, and never came close to preaching. It was a fitting epitaph to his life.

Every time I go into a bookstore these days, I find myself drifting hopefully over to the “A” section of both children’s and YA, wistfully thinking that perhaps they will have discovered some previously unpublished works among Alexander’s papers, and be able to offer us just one more story from him. Alas, I think we are destined to only be able to re-read the books already published, but at least they are well worth the journey. There are very few writers of whom I can say this, but every time I read one of his books I find something new in it.

From all I understand, Alexander exhibited those traits in his life he showed so well through his writing – humility, humor, kindness, practicality, and a keen zest for the adventure of life.

He has been a tremendous influence on me, both as a writer and human being, and I can only hope that someday I might be able to carry on his legacy in my own writings.

Are you familiar with Lloyd Alexander? If so, which is your favorite book, and why? (I think The Arkadians just barely tops my list, but I love them all too much to choose just one favorite!) What was the first book you read of his, and what do you remember most about it?