Well, last summer, I decided to get a head start on my British literature homework and hey, why pass up an excuse to read more, am I right? So, without further ado, I plunged into everything I could find written by British authors or about Britain.
From Lawhead’s Song of Albion to Dark Rising to the Waverly novels, I took a trip through British history from the prehistoric to the Victorian era. I finally got into Dickens, first reading through David Copperfield, and then, enchanted with Dickens’ style, dove headfirst into A Tale of Two Cities. It drags at first, but let me tell you BOY is the ending worth it! I tried Oliver Twist twice before this and just couldn’t get into it. But give it a year’s worth of growth and a wider exploration of genres, and I decided I rather liked Dickens instead. His books tend to either include subtle wit or else vivid pathos that is extremely compelling.
From there it was on to Ivanhoe and In Freedom’s Cause, with tales of gallant heroes and epic battles. I struggled through most of the Silmarillion, (enjoy the tales, but there are so many names,) and swept through some assorted Arthurian legends and the Kings of Britain. Then, it was off to the first book of Faerie Queene – not easy by any stretch of the imagination, but luckily, I found this lovely online edition with footnotes. (read here) If you’ve ever read Marissa Burt’s Storybound you should check out the Faerie Queene. There are actually like five books or so of it, but the first will be enough to reveal some of the little easter eggs in Storybound. Then, turning from the 1600’s Christianized fairy tale, it was into the realms of Beowulf and then back out, setting sail with Treasure Island again and Kidnapped. I have a low opinion of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but am quite fond of Stevenson’s other works.
All that to say, there’s nothing to really give you an idea of a country’s history so much as the literature written during that period. Who knew the difference between ‘pork’ and ‘swine’ was Norman French versus Saxon? Early Britain, and thus our English language, was a lovely patchwork of one series of invaders after the others. Those who desire a classical education learn Latin, to gain a better understanding of our linguistic roots. But really, that’s only half of the story, and learning Anglo-Saxon would be easily as beneficial – though I can’t deny the helpfulness of Latin roots when it comes to learning Spanish. Understanding the cycle of invaders also gives us a better picture of the evolution of archetype, mythologies, and stories – check out An Encyclopedia of Tolkien by David Day if you want to see what I mean.
Archetypes, remember, are universally recognized ‘types,’ or ‘ideal forms.’ And when you see the similar elements that span across cultures and legendarium, more pieces come together to form the archetypes we have today.
And yes, I also read through The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, and some of the Narnia books too, for what Brit Lit binge would be complete without them?
Another thing the Brit Lit Binge taught me was the value of old books. Now, I never had anything against old books to begin with — in fact, I found them fascinating. But I didn’t actively pursue them as I do now. Why old books? Because old books, unlike modern ones, have more to them than just the story. They have history. You see the development of literature through them. Lewis explains this better than I can:
Naturally, since I myself am a writer, I do not wish the ordinary reader to read no modern books. But if he must read only the new or only the old, I would advise him to read the old. And I would give him this advice precisely because he is an amateur and therefore much less protected than the expert against the dangers of an exclusive contemporary diet. A new book is still on its trial and the amateur is not in a position to judge it. It has to be tested against the great body of Christian thought down the ages, and all its hidden implications (often unsuspected by the author himself) have to be brought to light. Often it cannot be fully understood with out the knowledge of a good many other modern books. If you join at eleven o’clock a conversation which began at eight you will often not see the real bearing of what is said. Remarks which seem to you very ordinary will produce laughter or irritation and you will not see why—the reason, of course, being that the earlier stages of the conversation have given them a special point. In the same way sentences in a modern book which look quite ordinary may be directed “at” some other book; in this way you may be led to accept what you would have indignantly rejected if you knew its real significance.
C.S. Lewis, God in the Dock
Now, I have my opinions about the ‘classics,’ but I will admit those opinions are based on content, exclusive of any positive impact said classic might have had on history. Shakespeare, content-wise, is distinctly un-Christian. But as friends and family have pointed out in response to my protests, Shakespeare was ahead of his time and paved the way for literature in his era. (Granted, the Faerie Queene was written at the same time and is far cleaner, but I digress.) For my full thoughts, see this post. (link here)
Another reason I suggest older books — especially for classics — is because the newer versions reprinted by publishers often aren’t stictly accurate, with content removed because it is now deemed ‘offensive,’ or because the book is ‘easier to read’ without certain parts. I thought I’d found an original copy of Don Quixote, only to find, to my great annoyance, that the editor had removed several chapters and merely paraphrased them. And parts of my Poirot Investigates collection had been removed due to ‘offensive racial content.’ True now, maybe, but back then it wasn’t, and as a writer myself I know how I’d feel if parts of my writing were changed or removed due to the current culture. And to those of you who perhaps have complaints about the difficult reading level of old books, I both appeal to your desire to rise above mediocrity in pursuit of skill and excellence, and also refer you to this apt quote.
The fact that they [classics] are difficult to read is a mark in their favor; within certain limits, of course, works of literature that demand a lot from us will always yield more than works that demand little of us.
Leland Ryken
Alright, folks, you have a massive pile of recommendations now. Everything I mentioned is appropriate for teenagers, though simply due to the difficulty of reading for several of them, and some heavier topics in Song of Albion and the Faerie Queene, I would recommend 15 or 16 up. You now have my permission to go nerd out about British history. Being descended from the English and Norse myself, the connection between the Brits, Saxons, and Vikings is especially fascinating.
Okay, that’s all for now. Drop the title and author of your favorite British book in the comments below if you’d like – reading suggestions are always welcome.
Until next time,
Ciao!
