Chapter Books

The Black Cauldron

I read Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain chronicles when I was in junior high. Mrs. Greenblatt, the librarian, recommended them to me, and I wasn’t disappointed. Last year I revisited the first book, The Book of Three, and this week I read book 2, The Black Cauldron. Experiencing the book as an (alleged) adult, I was less absorbed by the story, but more appreciative of Alexander’s ability to craft a myth for young adults that includes so many of the pleasing elements of some great stories they’ll encounter later.

Once again I found myself joining up with Taran, the assistant pig-keeper on a quest to test his mettle and find his manhood; Eilonwy, the mouthy princess; Gurgi, the hairy spinner of rhymes (more verbose than Chewbacca, but otherwise surely an ancestor!); Fflewddur Flam, the unflaggingly cheerful harpist and teller of tales; as well as the valiant Gwydian, the gruff dwarf Doli, and the wise wizard Dallben. This book includes a few new faces too, most notably Ellidyr the spiteful prince of Pen-Larcau and the brave and mysterious Morgant.

My brother-in-law says there are only about 5 stories out there, remixed over and over. I’m not sure if I agree, but I did find lots of connections between this story and others, especially Tolkein’s. Like The Two Towers, The Black Cauldron as the second book in the series is (in my opinion) the darkest. Its central mission is serious: to secure and destroy the cauldron Arawn uses to turn corpses into “cauldron-born” warriors who can never be killed. Alexander’s characters also reminded me often of Tolkein’s: Arawn and Sauron; the cauldron-born and the ringwraiths; Taran and Frodo; on and on. Both authors include a fellowship in which rivalries fester and threaten to break it apart. Both include an evil, enchanted object that magnifies the characters’ inner wrestling with good and evil. Even the imaginary kingdom of Prydain, and its inhabitants with their difficult-to-pronounce names, calls to mind Tolkein’s much more elaborate, meticulous alternative world and language in Middle Earth.

There are links to other stories too. The 3 enchantresses, Orwen, Orgoch, and Orddu, remind me of L’Engle’s Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which, who also take the form of dishevelled crones and leave us guessing whether they’re entirely to be trusted. The cauldron itself hearkens to the biblical story of redemption, for it’s used to keep those who are dead alive as slaves to the evil will of Arawn, and it can only be destroyed if a living person willingly climbs in and loses his life. And the cast of characters– a young man coming of age, a princess, a bard– could serve as the template for any number of classic tales.

I’ve adopted some of the assumptions of classical education in my approach to homeschooling my children. One of these assumptions is that if you can introduce children to some of the great stories when they’re young sponges (my oldest is 6), they will love them, and take that love with them into a later and more complex understanding of them. Right now, for instance, we’re reading an illustrated version of The Iliad for children. The idea is that later, reading a more difficult text of the story won’t be intimidating, because my daughter will already know it.

I thought of this as I read The Black Cauldron. It contains so many elements of other tales (more than just the ones I’ve mentioned) embodied in a narrative that’s entertaining and fast-paced. It seems very likely that younger readers who encounter these stories will feel the “shock of recognition” and the joy of discovery later if they attempt the harder work of reading a longer and denser version of them– enough recognition and pleasure to disarm any intimidation. Surely this is a main pull of reading for all of us: entering fictional worlds which, though they may seem new and different on the outside, are familiar enough ground to offer us a new perspective on our lives.

None of this is meant to discount the fact that these are simply good stories in themselves, filled with humor, skillful character development and true wisdom. I think they’re a great gift, one that I appreciate even more now than I did when I first encountered them years ago. I suppose that’s one of the benefits of becoming, uh, “seasoned.” So it seems fitting to be reading and enjoying The Black Cauldron in honor of Lloyd Alexander’s birthday this month. The Celebrate the Author Challenge for January is here.