A list of medieval books would never be complete without Newbery Honor-winning Catherine, Called Birdy, a rich story by Karen Cushman of a 13-year-old girl’s attempt to escape a typical medieval woman’s fate.
Filled with magnificent historical detail, the novel is a diary written by Birdy at the suggestion of one of her brothers (the only one she really respects). She’s no princess, just the daughter of a minor knight, yet she deals with unwanted marriage proposals like any fairytale maiden (well, like a singular one): through trickery, including attempts to utterly repulse potential suitors. Birdy’s ploys work until her father betroths her to a lord more disgusting than anything she could have come up with. Her protestations and ideas to escape that engagement fuel the main plot.
Birdy’s world is no melodic, clean, medieval paradise, but a real world: with fleas and filth, unbearably tedious “lady-lessons,” a blustering beast of a father, and disasters in spinning and weaving. Cushman depicts manor life and village life in vivid detail, from home remedies (“a gargle of strawberries, water, vinegar, and the dung of a white dog”) to the excitement of a village hanging (which changes quickly to horror for Birdy, at least, when she sees who the convicted “bandits” are: two scrawny, frightened 12-year-old boys).
Chapters—diary entries—start with just a date early in the novel, but soon include a commentary on saints and holidays assigned to that date, and these are one of this novel’s pleasures. For instance: “29th Day of March, Feast of Saints Gwynllyw and Gwladys, who bathed in the river Usk summer and winter and went for long walks completely naked until their son, the holy Cadoc, made them stop”.
Birdy obeys the rules of her world in some respects, but also frequent questions those rules. Her adventures and her voice are a delight for anyone interested in medieval life.
On with the next medieval book! In this engaging, fascinating volume, Laura Amy Schlitz creates a snapshot of a medieval life through its children with help from Robert Byrd’s detailed illustrations.
A blacksmith’s daughter muses sadly over her distance from a young nobleman who comes to have his horse’s shoe repaired. Hostility arises between a Christian girl and a Jewish boy when they meet at a river, until they begin skipping stones together and realize that they are far more alike than different. An impoverished villein’s daughter (a villein is a medieval serf) watches her widowed mother humbly outsmart the lord that has come to take their much-needed cow, a price they must pay upon her father’s death. The glassblower’s two daughters soliloquize about a likely marriage between one of them and their father’s apprentice, but with very different perspectives.
In this collection of monologues (and two dialogues), the young characters are vivid and lifelike, and the history is accurate and interesting. The children’s stories, as well as details of their lives—of farming, blacksmithing, poverty, and more—make this short poetic volume a rich one.
If you follow me on Twitter, you may have noticed my love for—oh, let’s just be honest—enormous obsession with Scotland’s castles.
Edinburgh Castle and its curtain wall looming (as all good castles should) over its city upon Castle Rock.
These are the stone behemoths that dominate Scotland’s landscape (particularly in the Borders), looming above cities, countrysides, and seas. Kings, earls, and lords—Scottish and English alike—built these fortresses from the 11th to 16th centuries to defend, intimidate, and rule the country. And though most of Scotland’s castles are in various stages of ruin, or have been rebuilt well beyond their original master masons’ plans, they’re impressive.
One of the most impressive is one of the most famous: Edinburgh Castle. Established as a fortified residence in the Bronze Age and built up into a powerful castle in the early 12th century, Edinburgh Castle stands as a centerpiece in Scotland’s capital and the country’s history.
The gatehouse at Edinburgh Castle is one of the most iconic (and photographed) parts of this beauty.
Edinburgh Castle’s lurid past includes a history of successful sieges, despite its strong defensive structure (and don’t forget, in later years, the cannons), but also a few wonderfully dramatic retrievals. My favorite of retaking harks back to 1314, when a brave Scot named William Francis led the Earl of Moray and 30 men up the cliffs of Castle Rock (at left) to overpower the forces of English King Edward II. Edward’s dad, Edward I, also known as the Hammer of the Scots, had successfully invaded the castle before, and so it was his rule that was crumbling as the Earl of Moray’s small war-band took the castle back.
There was also just plain murder here, such as the time an advisor to young James II executed the 16-year-old heir to the powerful Black Douglas clan and his younger brother in the middle of a dinner with the ten-year-old king. (According to records of the time, James II begged for the lives of his two friends, but was ignored.) James II demoted said advisor when he was old enough to wield real power. (This was a king who had witnessed horrific violence very young, which might be one reason why he was so fond of the latest weaponry.)
James II received one of the most powerful weapons of the late medieval ages—Mons Meg, cannon of cannons—as a wedding present. Let’s just say I’m a wee bit jealous.
During the English Civil Wars, Edinburgh Castle lost its status as a residence for royals and was turned into barracks for Oliver Cromwell’s garrison, then, later, for the Jacobites’, and, in the 18th century, a prison as well. But a hundred years after that, Sir Walter Scott, with his hugely popular writings and ongoing promotion of Scottish history, inspired new interest in the castle. That new interest eventually translated to renovations, including ones in a “medieval” style that may not be accurate but have done much to define how people imagine the medieval world today.
The Lang Stairs by Argyle Tower show the two styles clearly: a 19th century tower on the right (designed as the top of Portcullis Gate by Edinburgh architect Hippolyte Blanc), and part of the old structure to the left. The only original building from the castle’s early days is St. Margaret’s Chapel, a modest structure built in 1130 that now overlooks Mons Meg.
This castle today is a popular tourist site, but also a major part of the city. You can see it from the Royal Botanic Gardens miles away, as well as over the rooftops from the terrace level of the National Museum of Scotland, and from many other spots in the Old Town. I admit: I am absolutely in love with this castle. During my last visit to Edinburgh, I visited three times (my Historic Scotland Environment membership made that easy). Edinburgh Castle and I are now old chums.
A 20th century statue of Robert the Bruce, Scotland’s great warrior king (from 1306 to 1329), greets visitors from one side of a late 19th century gatehouse. As I was leaving from my final visit to the castle, I wished him goodbye—to the confusion of the tourists around me who didn’t quite know to whom I was speaking.
Many thanks to Edinburgh Castle and Historical Environment Scotland, which oversees and protects this and other important historical sites. Thanks also to the friendly staff at Edinburgh Castle and for the informative panels and excellent guidebook they put together, which broadened my knowledge and perspective of this, my favorite castle.
If you’re like me, you’ve surely fallen in love with at least one cover to a book. That’s the book you always carry around with its cover facing out. Before you sit down to read, you stare at its cover for a few seconds and feel warmth, awe, and inspiration. When you’re done reading, you keep it nearby, cover facing up, for at least a few days. It’s one the reasons you read print books.
A middle grade novel’s cover is a very particular kind of cover. It needs to be engaging, both a snapshot of the novel and an introduction to the novel’s world. It should tell a young reader what’s in store: the feel this book will have, the atmosphere, and a hint, at least, of what the book’s about. The best middle grade covers grab their readers to start, then stay in their readers’ minds long ago the book is done.
I’ve long admired Antonio Javier Caparo‘s art, and I’ve kept books he’s illustrated with the cover facing up on my desk for a few days after I’ve finished reading (A World Without Heroes and The Hostage Prince are two of my favorites). So I was thrilled when I heard that he would be the artist for The Mad Wolf’s Daughter.
Take that emotion up several notches for when I saw the actual cover:
Here were characters and scenes that had existed purely as my words on a page transformed into a visual reality. I love Drest’s fierce expression, Emerick’s downcast suffering face, that sly little smile on Tig’s lips. And Mordag the crow. And Faintree Castle lurking in the mist. And Drest’s father, and her two eldest brothers in the midst of a fight. And the mysterious cloaked figure on the stag…
This is my cover. It’s my own dream come true, a beautiful work in its own right, and a great promise to my readers of what’s inside. Thank you, Antonio.
There is a wealth of medieval-themed books for young readers out in the world. In this series of posts, I’m sharing some of my favorites for readers who might be interested in learning more about this world that fascinates me so much. These recommendations include works about northern Europe, which is where my own research has led me (it’s also been challenging to find texts for young readers that explore other geographic areas during the medieval period). I won’t include many books that have a heavy reliance on magic in this list, unless it’s as much a historical as fantasy with clear links to the real medieval world.
And we start with one such book: Adam Gidwitz’s The Inquisitor’s Tale.
This immaculately researched story follows three magical children in medieval France. Jeanne, who has had visions and owns a holy dog that has come back to life, is fleeing soldiers tasked with burning her at the stake. The oblate William, the child of an African Muslim woman and a Christian crusader, is expelled from his monastery and traveling to a new one in Saint-Denis. Jacob, a Jewish boy, escapes his burned village and goes in search of his cousin in Saint-Denis. The three meet up and together flee from the soldiers toward their common destination: Saint-Denis. But once there, their escape turns into a quest to save holy texts. A final confrontation at Mont Saint-Michel shows that kindness has the power of any miracle.
This book is especially notable for the three main characters’ ethnic, religious, and racial diversity. It will appeal to readers who loved Gidwitz’s A Tale Dark and Grimm, those simply eager to learn about medieval society, and those keen on a wildly funny and engaging story.
Thanks to my son for creating this colored collagraph print for me!
Story bites are a tiny but important piece of a story—a starting point, a detail, an action, or a character—written as short and fun pieces of writing. On this website, I’ll give you a prompt and invite you to respond to it. What to do next is up to you. Make your piece as short or as long as you want; it’s your writing.
Each month, I’ll post a new prompt and invite you to write a story bite based on it.
Please share your story bites!Submityour story bite to me through your teacher or an adult’s home email address and include: your first name, grade, town, and state. (Elementary, middle, and high school students only, please.)
When I’m able to, I’ll post a story bite that I’ve received the month before and say a few things that I like about it.
Teachers: if your make story bites part of a lesson, please let me know how it went. And share them! I’d love to see your students’ work.
In December 2016, I visited Memorial Middle School in South Portland, Maine, and spoke to five classes of sixth graders. This was my first time holding Create a Premiseand it was a resounding success. Here’s one premise that students created—and revised. I provided medieval names and identities for the students to choose from.
Liulf, a monster from the woods, must kill people because he needs to eat them. He’s constantly fleeing from knights sent by the local lord, but must continue to kill and eat, or else he’ll starve. Amelyn, a castle guard’s daughter, is Liulf’s best friend. Amelyn carries a certain kind of blood that Liulf needs: if he consumes it, he’ll become human, which is his goal. But he can’t bear the thought of eating his friend, and so when he learns that she alone has the blood to save him, he flees from her. Yet Amelyn, who loves her friend, follows him, unaware of the risk to her life.
I love this premise, and I hope the students create a story based on it!