Lloyd Alexander: 1924-2007
Lloyd Alexander, the author of the cult favorite U.S. children’s series The Chronicles of Prydain, has passed away. According to the obituary that The Guardian posted today, Alexander actually died several weeks ago, on May 17, but the news appears to be getting out only now.
His first novels were for adults but, in the 1960s, despairing at the state of adult fiction, he switched to writing for children, an activity he described as “the most creative and liberating experience of my life.” It was certainly a hugely successful transition. He went on to write more than 35 books for children, attracting a passionately committed following and winning numerous awards. These included, in the U.S., the 1969 Newbery medal for The High King (1968), the penultimate title in his Chronicles of Prydain series, the 1971 National Book award for The Marvelous Misadventures of Sebastian (1970), the story of a poor fiddler who saves a princess from an unhappy marriage, and the 1982 American Book award for Westmark (1981), the first title in a series of the same name.
This Quillblogger happily recalls reading Alexander’s The Black Cauldron as a child, immediately after having seen the Disney movie adaptation; it was then that I discovered, probably for the first time, that the book is almost always better than the movie.
One of the pleasures of having children is getting a second pass at reading children’s literature. My son loved the Lloyd Alexander stories, and I greatly enjoyed reading them to him. Recently we were talking about that time–he’s now 27, doing graduate work in philosophy after a “career” as a video game tester etc.–and it was amazing how much he remembered of the imagery and mythology which Alexander used as background to his books.
One of the last ones we read was Taran Wanderer, in which Taran seeks who he is. The quest is concrete, because he is searching for knowledge about his parentage. But he also is looking for his essence, a concept that may be a little remote to someone who is nine or 10. One of the most striking episodes–for me at the time, at least–was when Taran develops a passion for making pottery, but discovers that even though he loves it, he has no talent. He is better, he decides, to do what he can do, and admire those who can do what he can’t. A profound lesson, which my son remembered.