2003 Newbery winner, Crispin, by Avi is about a medieval boy with no name and only a mother who had no current social status but could read. The book opens with her death and a great concern about what is going to happen to the boy. He learns that he has a name, a noble name far too important for a nobody peasant boy: Crispin. At the same time, he’s accused of a serious crime he did not commit, thus becoming a fugitive on the run.
What I liked. The great jester, Bear, whom Crispin meets and becomes first a manservant for and eventually a freed friend had this lovely little meditation on the power of laughter in general and thinking about the laughter of God. “When I think on the perfections of our Savior, I choose to think most upon His most perfect laughter. It must have been the kind that makes us laugh, too.” (page 96-97). What a powerful and joyful thing to think about what it would have been like to be with and hear Jesus laugh. I loved that image.
What was interesting. The alchemical symbols in the book, specifically the titular “Cross of Lead,” were fun to notice and trace through the book. Crispin is given a lead cross with words (that he himself cannot read) carved into the soft body of the lead cross. These words are directly linked to his parentage, and by the near end of the book, under a cross of gold in the chapel of his now dead father, he decides who he is and what he is and is not going to be about. That transformation of the lead cross to the gold cross and the corresponding transformation of Crispin himself from a frightened nobody who knew nothing of the world or himself to a strong and noble young man willing to make his own way in the world is pretty classic literary alchemy. And while alchemy is downright confusing (I think on purpose), one common feature of alchemy is the changing of lead to gold by adding mercury (among other things like sulfurs and salts, heating and coolings, and various “living waters”–really the whole thing can be very confusing). But one thing I think I did see in this story was the agent of Crispin’s transformation is the mercurial Bear, a bit unpredictable but ultimately good and definitely someone who helps Crispin come into his own.
What were some limitations. Well, I think that especially the opening description of Crispin’s medieval peasant life was a bit bleak. And while I think it was more of a literary device than a reflection of what Avi truly believes about medieval peasant life, I think that there are a lot more sources that paint a much more nuanced and varied view of medieval experience. Unrelated to my thoughts on the historical accuracy of medieval life were the pacing and how Avi wrote tense chase scenes. I found myself a little bit confused and disoriented about exactly what was happening and also skimming to find out what happened because they went on and on. To me, that is a sign that the pacing and the tension is off (I mean for me, someone else might love it). I find if I’m skimming fight scenes to find out if someone is ok, then something about the scene isn’t working to keep me fully engaged–such as the tension is too high or the fight details are not crucial for the plot.
Similarity to other Newbery winners. It reminded me a good deal of other medieval boy coming of age tales like Trumpeter of Krakow, Adam of the Road, Door in the Wall, Dark Frigate, Whipping Boy, as well as a few of the female protagonist ones like Midwife’s Apprentice and Witch of Blackbird Pond. But what I was most struck by was a similarity to a book that I read last year called The Search for WondLa by Tony DiTerlizzi which also has an orphan child befriended by a temperamental wise guide who brings the child through a city before their ultimate destination to find answers of the child’s parentage. There are a good number of similarities just in structure alone, but when I really noticed it was when Crispin leaves the inn in the city to just wander around against the explicit instructions of Bear. That scene exactly paralleled when Eva Nine leaves the friend’s guest house in a strange city against the explicit instructions of her guide Rovender. Both end up learning important information and getting chased by the bad guys for a while. (I probably noticed it because I am such a rule follower and there wasn’t any compelling reason why the characters took such a big risk against explicit rules made by a loving caretaker, so it stressed me out both times!) This all makes me wonder if leaving a safe haven to explore on ones own isn’t a kind of trope or “obligatory scene” for some adventure stories. (It seems like exactly the sort of thing that happens in Star Wars as well).
What it teaches me as a writer. I still find the medieval setting my very favorite setting. I love the texture of all the medieval life things: poor houses, great woods, stone chapels, roads with wandering minstrels or bandits, winding towns and cities, jesters, castles, high ladies, blood ties and lineage questions. Even though there were parts of Crispin that I didn’t love, overall I still really loved the experience of being in the medieval world with him.
Have you read Crispin: The Cross of Lead? What are your favorite medieval historical novels?
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