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The Book of Boy
Boy has always been relegated to the outskirts of his small village. With a large hump on his back, a mysterious past, and a tendency to talk to animals, he is often mocked and abused by the other kids in his town. Until the arrival of a shadowy pilgrim named Secondus. Impressed with Boy’s climbing and jumping abilities, Secondus engages Boy as his servant, pulling him into an expedition across Europe to gather the seven precious relics of Saint Peter. Boy quickly realizes this journey is not an innocent one. They are stealing the relics, and gaining dangerous enemies in the process. But Boy is determined to see this pilgrimage through until the end—for what if St. Peter can make Boy’s hump go away?
This compelling, action-packed tale is full of bravery and daring, stars a terrific cast of secondary characters, and features an unlikely multigenerational friendship at its heart. Memorable and haunting, Catherine Gilbert Murdock’s epic medieval adventure is just right for readers of Sara Pennypacker’s Pax, Adam Gidwitz’s The Inquisitor’s Tale, and Pam Muñoz Ryan’s Echo.
Features a map and black-and-white art throughout.
This compelling, action-packed tale is full of bravery and daring, stars a terrific cast of secondary characters, and features an unlikely multigenerational friendship at its heart. Memorable and haunting, Catherine Gilbert Murdock’s epic medieval adventure is just right for readers of Sara Pennypacker’s Pax, Adam Gidwitz’s The Inquisitor’s Tale, and Pam Muñoz Ryan’s Echo.
Features a map and black-and-white art throughout.
293 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 6, 2018
388 people are currently reading
4095 people want to read
About the author
Catherine Gilbert Murdock
13 books817 followersI grew up in small-town Connecticut, on a tiny farm with honeybees, two adventurous goats, and a mess of Christmas trees. My sister claims we didn’t have a television, but we did, sometimes – only it was ancient, received exactly two channels, and had to be turned off after 45 minutes to cool down or else the screen would go all fuzzy. Watching (or rather, “watching”) Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds was quite the experience, because it’s hard to tell a flock of vicious crows from a field of very active static; this might be why I still can’t stand horror movies, to this day.
My sister Liz, who is now a Very Famous Writer with a large stack of books, was my primary companion, even though she was extremely cautious – she wouldn’t even try to jump off the garage roof, which involved crouching right at the edge for ten minutes working up your nerve, and then checking each time you landed to see if you’d broken anything – and she learned early on that losing at games was easier in the long run than putting up with me losing. Now, of course, she travels all over the world collecting stories and diseases, while I stay at home scowling over paint chips, and losing on purpose to my kids. So the cycle continues. (Read an New York Times article by Catherine and Liz.)
People sometimes ask if I played football in high school: no. I ran cross country and track, badly, but I have absolutely no skill whatsoever with ball or team sports. Plus my high school didn’t even have a football team. Instead, I was part of the art clique – taking extra art classes, spending my study halls and lunch periods working on my latest still life. (Please tell me this was not a unique experience.) I didn’t do much writing – my sister was the anointed writer – but I read my little eyeballs out. I was the queen of our library’s YA section.
In college I studied architectural history. The formal name was “Growth and Structure of Cities Program,” but for me, it was all about buildings. I’ve always been fascinated with the built environment – how spaces fit together, how streets work, how they read. And curiously (Warning: Life Lesson approaching), it’s paid off in the oddest ways. For example, several of us in our neighborhood recently got quite upset about a enormous building going in across the street, and while everyone agreed that they didn’t like the way it looked, I was the one who stood up at public meetings and used words like entablature and cornice line and fenestration – all this architectural jargon I’d learned back at Bryn Mawr – and sounded like I knew what I was talking about. And because of that, the building ended up getting redesigned, and – in my humble opinion – now will look much more attractive and appropriate, which is nice because I’ll be looking at it for the rest of my life. So don’t be afraid to study what you love, because you do not know now, and you may not know for twenty years, how amazingly it will pay off. But it will.
Dairy Queen was my first stab at creative writing since high school, not counting several years as a struggling screenwriter (which followed several years as a struggling scholar). I unabashedly recommend screenwriting for mastering the art of storytelling; just don’t pin any hopes on seeing your work on the big screen. But you’ll learn so much in the process that this won’t matter. I also recommend, you know, living. I've been passionate about food pretty much my whole life – first eating it, now preparing and then eating it. And so it plays a pretty big role in my writing, and adds so much flavor . . . not literally, of course, but the more you can add that's true, whether it's emotion or geography or gardening (that’s me in the picture above), then the stronger that story is.
My sister Liz, who is now a Very Famous Writer with a large stack of books, was my primary companion, even though she was extremely cautious – she wouldn’t even try to jump off the garage roof, which involved crouching right at the edge for ten minutes working up your nerve, and then checking each time you landed to see if you’d broken anything – and she learned early on that losing at games was easier in the long run than putting up with me losing. Now, of course, she travels all over the world collecting stories and diseases, while I stay at home scowling over paint chips, and losing on purpose to my kids. So the cycle continues. (Read an New York Times article by Catherine and Liz.)
People sometimes ask if I played football in high school: no. I ran cross country and track, badly, but I have absolutely no skill whatsoever with ball or team sports. Plus my high school didn’t even have a football team. Instead, I was part of the art clique – taking extra art classes, spending my study halls and lunch periods working on my latest still life. (Please tell me this was not a unique experience.) I didn’t do much writing – my sister was the anointed writer – but I read my little eyeballs out. I was the queen of our library’s YA section.
In college I studied architectural history. The formal name was “Growth and Structure of Cities Program,” but for me, it was all about buildings. I’ve always been fascinated with the built environment – how spaces fit together, how streets work, how they read. And curiously (Warning: Life Lesson approaching), it’s paid off in the oddest ways. For example, several of us in our neighborhood recently got quite upset about a enormous building going in across the street, and while everyone agreed that they didn’t like the way it looked, I was the one who stood up at public meetings and used words like entablature and cornice line and fenestration – all this architectural jargon I’d learned back at Bryn Mawr – and sounded like I knew what I was talking about. And because of that, the building ended up getting redesigned, and – in my humble opinion – now will look much more attractive and appropriate, which is nice because I’ll be looking at it for the rest of my life. So don’t be afraid to study what you love, because you do not know now, and you may not know for twenty years, how amazingly it will pay off. But it will.
Dairy Queen was my first stab at creative writing since high school, not counting several years as a struggling screenwriter (which followed several years as a struggling scholar). I unabashedly recommend screenwriting for mastering the art of storytelling; just don’t pin any hopes on seeing your work on the big screen. But you’ll learn so much in the process that this won’t matter. I also recommend, you know, living. I've been passionate about food pretty much my whole life – first eating it, now preparing and then eating it. And so it plays a pretty big role in my writing, and adds so much flavor . . . not literally, of course, but the more you can add that's true, whether it's emotion or geography or gardening (that’s me in the picture above), then the stronger that story is.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 898 reviews
March 29, 2018
When you think about it, many authors of children must have something they’re afraid to write. Some book or idea or concept that tempts them but that they wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot-pole. Religion is probably right up there on some people’s lists, regardless of the denomination. Is there a way to incorporate it seamlessly into a fantasy novel, retaining the parts you want, eschewing the rest? Is it wise to include at all? What constitutes religious writing at all? It’s rare that a book written for kids between the ages of nine to twelve makes me raise such questions at all, but I think a lot of us would agree that The Book of Boy by Catherine Gilbert Murdock isn’t just any old book. A skillful amalgamation of fantasy, religion, and just a hint of philosophy, Murdock eschews the old good vs. evil narrative for something, perhaps, more interesting: Truth vs. Delusion.
Everyone calls him Boy and he likes it that way. His is a simple life of tending the goats for the manor in the year 1350. He may be a hunchback and have to deal with the cruelty of kids his age, but life isn’t so bad. That is, until a stranger comes to call. Ostensibly a pilgrim, the man calls himself Secundus. He is in dire need of a boy to help him carry his mysterious pack. That and . . . some other odd jobs, let’s say. Boy doesn’t want to go at first, but as he learns more about Secundus’s quest, he begins to hope against hope. You see, Secundus seeks the relics of St. Peter so as to save his soul. Boy, on the other hand, wants his hump to go away. Could St. Peter help him with that? Or is there more to Boy than even he is willing to admit?
Generally speaking, Murdock has remained pretty squarely in the camp of the young adult novelist. Nothing wrong with that, of course. It’s just meant that I haven’t been able to read as many of her books as I’d like. I remember enjoying Princess Ben some years ago, of course. In this book for younger readers she scales back her text. Which, by extension, means reigning in character exposition as well. With the very first chapter we need to not only meet Boy but also love him. We also meet Secundus, and, like Boy, we don’t know what to make of him. The chapter itself is no longer than seven pages. How do you establish character in so short an amount of time? In the case of Boy, Murdock opts to show us his kindness and joy. He loves his life, as you can clearly see, just as much as he loves his goats. Secundus is introduced as insulting and brash in the first chapter, but in the second he defends Boy from a bully. Even then, you don’t know what to make of him. Excellent fodder for a story, don’t you think?
We live in times when people create fantasy novels for children exceeding three hundred, four hundred, sometimes even five hundred pages or more. All this to bring them stories they haven’t heard a hundred times before. It’s given me a taste for brevity, if nothing else. My husband has a phrase he likes to use when he sees a film that’s under two hours: “handsome”. Well, in every sense of the word The Book of Boy is a “handsome” novel. Weighing in at 278 pages the book could easily have been little more than one hundred if it had been printed a different way. No expense has been spared in its production. The pages are thick and beveled. The original artist assigned to it was exchanged for Ian Schoenherr, a man capable of replicating a very specific woodblock style. It’s a class act from start to finish, but even more than that it’s a book that knows how to distill an adventure down to its most singular elements. There’s not a word, a thought, or a concept out of place.
If kids complain about anything with this book, though, it’ll probably concern how little additional information we receive about Boy throughout the text. Just as a warning, I’m going to spill the beans on the big reveal in this book, so if you’re spoiler-averse I’d advise you to skip on down to the next paragraph. All set? Okay. So as I mentioned earlier, putting a big dollop of religion in your middle grade fantasy is by no means unheard of, it’s just tricky to pull off. Adam Gidwitz gave it a good shot in The Inquisitor’s Tale and received a Newbery Honor for his troubles. Murdock is traipsing along similar lines, but where Gidwitz is loquacious, she’s circumspect. Where he’s effusive she’s restrained. Both books involve angels, but where Gidwitz’s is all-knowing, Murdock’s could not be less well informed about, well, anything. We don’t really learn anything about him that he himself didn’t already know. Where he came from, why he’s here, and what he’s supposed to do . . . these are all left to the reader’s interpretation. Murdock’s giving you the dots, but you’re going to have to connect them yourself. Nothing is done for the reader here.
I can only speak for myself, but the real lure of this book might not be the characters, the mysteries, the setting, or even the mysterious relics. The book has something a little more difficult to pin down, and even harder to attain. It’s a sheer pleasure to read. I mean it. The chapters whiz on by, daring you to put the book down for even one iota of a second. Somehow Murdock has managed to write something simultaneously archaic in form and incredibly enticing to the modern eye. And it really doesn’t matter if the Christianity here gels with your own religious beliefs or strikes you as 100% foreign. Boy is the kind of character you can’t help but love. You want to go with him on this journey and, more to the point, you want him to see it to its end. If Boy is the living embodiment of kindness and joy, I can think of no better guide for young readers to encounter. We have a lot of dark, depressing, necessary books out there. Once, just once, let’s enjoy the one unafraid to let a little light and laughter in.
For ages 9-12.
Everyone calls him Boy and he likes it that way. His is a simple life of tending the goats for the manor in the year 1350. He may be a hunchback and have to deal with the cruelty of kids his age, but life isn’t so bad. That is, until a stranger comes to call. Ostensibly a pilgrim, the man calls himself Secundus. He is in dire need of a boy to help him carry his mysterious pack. That and . . . some other odd jobs, let’s say. Boy doesn’t want to go at first, but as he learns more about Secundus’s quest, he begins to hope against hope. You see, Secundus seeks the relics of St. Peter so as to save his soul. Boy, on the other hand, wants his hump to go away. Could St. Peter help him with that? Or is there more to Boy than even he is willing to admit?
Generally speaking, Murdock has remained pretty squarely in the camp of the young adult novelist. Nothing wrong with that, of course. It’s just meant that I haven’t been able to read as many of her books as I’d like. I remember enjoying Princess Ben some years ago, of course. In this book for younger readers she scales back her text. Which, by extension, means reigning in character exposition as well. With the very first chapter we need to not only meet Boy but also love him. We also meet Secundus, and, like Boy, we don’t know what to make of him. The chapter itself is no longer than seven pages. How do you establish character in so short an amount of time? In the case of Boy, Murdock opts to show us his kindness and joy. He loves his life, as you can clearly see, just as much as he loves his goats. Secundus is introduced as insulting and brash in the first chapter, but in the second he defends Boy from a bully. Even then, you don’t know what to make of him. Excellent fodder for a story, don’t you think?
We live in times when people create fantasy novels for children exceeding three hundred, four hundred, sometimes even five hundred pages or more. All this to bring them stories they haven’t heard a hundred times before. It’s given me a taste for brevity, if nothing else. My husband has a phrase he likes to use when he sees a film that’s under two hours: “handsome”. Well, in every sense of the word The Book of Boy is a “handsome” novel. Weighing in at 278 pages the book could easily have been little more than one hundred if it had been printed a different way. No expense has been spared in its production. The pages are thick and beveled. The original artist assigned to it was exchanged for Ian Schoenherr, a man capable of replicating a very specific woodblock style. It’s a class act from start to finish, but even more than that it’s a book that knows how to distill an adventure down to its most singular elements. There’s not a word, a thought, or a concept out of place.
If kids complain about anything with this book, though, it’ll probably concern how little additional information we receive about Boy throughout the text. Just as a warning, I’m going to spill the beans on the big reveal in this book, so if you’re spoiler-averse I’d advise you to skip on down to the next paragraph. All set? Okay. So as I mentioned earlier, putting a big dollop of religion in your middle grade fantasy is by no means unheard of, it’s just tricky to pull off. Adam Gidwitz gave it a good shot in The Inquisitor’s Tale and received a Newbery Honor for his troubles. Murdock is traipsing along similar lines, but where Gidwitz is loquacious, she’s circumspect. Where he’s effusive she’s restrained. Both books involve angels, but where Gidwitz’s is all-knowing, Murdock’s could not be less well informed about, well, anything. We don’t really learn anything about him that he himself didn’t already know. Where he came from, why he’s here, and what he’s supposed to do . . . these are all left to the reader’s interpretation. Murdock’s giving you the dots, but you’re going to have to connect them yourself. Nothing is done for the reader here.
I can only speak for myself, but the real lure of this book might not be the characters, the mysteries, the setting, or even the mysterious relics. The book has something a little more difficult to pin down, and even harder to attain. It’s a sheer pleasure to read. I mean it. The chapters whiz on by, daring you to put the book down for even one iota of a second. Somehow Murdock has managed to write something simultaneously archaic in form and incredibly enticing to the modern eye. And it really doesn’t matter if the Christianity here gels with your own religious beliefs or strikes you as 100% foreign. Boy is the kind of character you can’t help but love. You want to go with him on this journey and, more to the point, you want him to see it to its end. If Boy is the living embodiment of kindness and joy, I can think of no better guide for young readers to encounter. We have a lot of dark, depressing, necessary books out there. Once, just once, let’s enjoy the one unafraid to let a little light and laughter in.
For ages 9-12.
November 13, 2021
I loved this and couldn't put it down. The Middle Ages comes to life in all its dark and light. I was so moved at the end I wept.
May 3, 2018
The Book of Boy is an uncomplicated tale about a pilgrim, Secundus, and a hunchbacked boy, Boy, going on a quest to collect seven relics of Saint Peter in early fourteenth century France and Italy. Relics have no special hold on my imagination, but I am currently obsessed with the medieval period, so I jumped at a chance to read this one. Seeing comparisons to The Inquisitor’s Tale (which now seem very much unmerited) piqued my interest even further. Unfortunately, the book did not live up to my expectations.
While early chapters painted an interesting portrait of going on a pilgrimage and the ways that relics shaped the lives of different kinds of people in society, the book did not offer much more of interest than that. One would think that stealing a series of guarded holy relics would make for a story that was exciting and fun, with some moral reflection adding a touch of richness. Imagine National Treasure, but a bit less ridiculous, with some historical and religious elements. That is not what this book is. The thefts, trades, and sometimes outright purchases of relics in the story happen quickly without too much conflict or surprises. More often than not, the pair is saved by an incredibly convenient key to hell that opens all locks OR Boy’s fantastic ability to communicate telepathically with animals. The relic quest very quickly becomes repetitive, with the threat of capture feeling less real with every successful theft. And none of this is improved by Boy’s clueless and naive narration.
Here is your big spoiler: Boy is an angel. Except it is not much of a spoiler because Murdock constantly hints this from the start. Based on the other reviews I have read here, I might be in the minority of seeing this “twist” from the get-go, as well as Secundus being a natural opposite, coming from Hell. By the time the specifics of each character’s circumstances is revealed halfway through the novel, it adds little to the way we read the story. In fact, Boy’s angel-ness is a point of confusion. Where did he come from? How is he ignorant of his nature, especially when he is basically genderless and does not eat? Does he have a hump or is the hump made of crumpled wings? Were his wings stuck inside his hump, which shrinks as they grow? Why is he so ashamed and afraid to accept that he is an angel? In fact, he sees spreading his wings as some kind of unholy temptation. And despite the slow embrace of his identity, Boy still yearns to complete the relic quest in the hopes he will become a normal boy. All of this feels somewhat messy.
Secundus the pilgrim is equally murky, but in his case it at least feels more intentional. He has escaped hell with the surge of souls brought there by the plague. So many arriving that no one notices one man sneaking out. Apparently he also spent some time down there interviewing those who knew a thing or two about the relics of Saint Peter, because he has a whole book of tips to get them. He does this with the end goal of getting a chance to go to heaven and see his family again. A long lost son adds some complexity to his relationship with Boy. I wish he had been the narrator for this book, because his arc is more interesting and feels more complete by the end of the story. It is not clear if he actually makes it to heaven nor is it clear if he deserves to get there by stealing. It’s suggested he speaks through a dog in the denouement, but exactly what happened remains unknown. I suppose this is a bit of mystery that I feel okay with.
At the conclusion, Boy returns home with a newish (maybe more self aware?) goal to help people and wings that hide themselves more conveniently. He has changed, in being less ignorant than at the start, but I was left wondering why it was this quest that helped him to this point. I have no real takeaways from this story in terms of a message or even characters I got enough from to love. Angels are good and we should be too? Endeavor to help people both good and bad? Say what you will about Inquisitor’s Tale, it was more fun, more inclusive, more exciting, and asked interesting theological questions. For this reader, there is no comparison.
While early chapters painted an interesting portrait of going on a pilgrimage and the ways that relics shaped the lives of different kinds of people in society, the book did not offer much more of interest than that. One would think that stealing a series of guarded holy relics would make for a story that was exciting and fun, with some moral reflection adding a touch of richness. Imagine National Treasure, but a bit less ridiculous, with some historical and religious elements. That is not what this book is. The thefts, trades, and sometimes outright purchases of relics in the story happen quickly without too much conflict or surprises. More often than not, the pair is saved by an incredibly convenient key to hell that opens all locks OR Boy’s fantastic ability to communicate telepathically with animals. The relic quest very quickly becomes repetitive, with the threat of capture feeling less real with every successful theft. And none of this is improved by Boy’s clueless and naive narration.
Here is your big spoiler: Boy is an angel. Except it is not much of a spoiler because Murdock constantly hints this from the start. Based on the other reviews I have read here, I might be in the minority of seeing this “twist” from the get-go, as well as Secundus being a natural opposite, coming from Hell. By the time the specifics of each character’s circumstances is revealed halfway through the novel, it adds little to the way we read the story. In fact, Boy’s angel-ness is a point of confusion. Where did he come from? How is he ignorant of his nature, especially when he is basically genderless and does not eat? Does he have a hump or is the hump made of crumpled wings? Were his wings stuck inside his hump, which shrinks as they grow? Why is he so ashamed and afraid to accept that he is an angel? In fact, he sees spreading his wings as some kind of unholy temptation. And despite the slow embrace of his identity, Boy still yearns to complete the relic quest in the hopes he will become a normal boy. All of this feels somewhat messy.
Secundus the pilgrim is equally murky, but in his case it at least feels more intentional. He has escaped hell with the surge of souls brought there by the plague. So many arriving that no one notices one man sneaking out. Apparently he also spent some time down there interviewing those who knew a thing or two about the relics of Saint Peter, because he has a whole book of tips to get them. He does this with the end goal of getting a chance to go to heaven and see his family again. A long lost son adds some complexity to his relationship with Boy. I wish he had been the narrator for this book, because his arc is more interesting and feels more complete by the end of the story. It is not clear if he actually makes it to heaven nor is it clear if he deserves to get there by stealing. It’s suggested he speaks through a dog in the denouement, but exactly what happened remains unknown. I suppose this is a bit of mystery that I feel okay with.
At the conclusion, Boy returns home with a newish (maybe more self aware?) goal to help people and wings that hide themselves more conveniently. He has changed, in being less ignorant than at the start, but I was left wondering why it was this quest that helped him to this point. I have no real takeaways from this story in terms of a message or even characters I got enough from to love. Angels are good and we should be too? Endeavor to help people both good and bad? Say what you will about Inquisitor’s Tale, it was more fun, more inclusive, more exciting, and asked interesting theological questions. For this reader, there is no comparison.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 5, 2025
When I finished reading Catherine Gilbert Murdock's 2018 historical fiction novel The Book of Boy I was very much surprised just how similar her storyline in many ways and in particular regarding the general set-up feels to Alan Gidwitz' The Inquisitor's Tale: Or, the Three Magical Children and Their Holy Dog, with both novels winning Newbery Honour designations, but also with both stories NOT really all that much appealing to me as true and bona fide historical fiction, and in particular so as historical fiction meant for middle grade readers (and indeed, this is all I am going to be saying about The Inquisitor's Tale: Or, the Three Magical Children and Their Holy Dog, as I have already reviewed it in detail, and that the remainder of this here review will now focus wholly and only on The Book of Boy and on Catherine Gilbert Murdock's presented text).
And first and foremost, and for one, albeit that with regard to her sense of and for time and place, Gilbert Murdock most definitely paints a textually rich, colourful and intensely authentic, read realistic feeling portrait of Medieval France and Italy with The Book of Boy and that she also does not spare her young readers from being confronted with and by disease, violence and the fact that for most individuals, for most people life in the Middle Ages was short, painfully hard and often also intensely brutal, well, considering that The Book of Boy is supposedly meant for middle grade readers (as I noticed that the suggested age group on Amazon and on other book selling sites is from about eight to twelve years of age), sorry, but for me, in particular the level of narrational violence and often rather gruesome descriptions encountered in The Book of Boy, it kind of make this story much more suitable for young adult and even for adult readers. And also, and furthermore (but again of course only in my opinion), much of Catherine Gilbert Murdock's depicted horrors and details upon details of pain and suffering, while of course realistic and authentic for the Middle Ages also kind of feel to and for me that in The Book of Boy, Gilbert Murdock seems to almost take some kind of perverse textual pleasure proverbially hitting her readers over their collective heads with an exaggeration of violent scenarios, and that from where I am standing, she very easily could still have shown in The Book of Boy that the Middle Ages were basically not some kind of glorious romp of knights on horseback with less direct depictions of often rather gratuitous violence and with more allusions and verbal nuance.
And for two, I also just do not think that the religious fantasy elements (and Roman Catholic dogma) of The Book of Boy are either all that interesting in and of themselves or even all that successfully incorporated by Catherine Gilbert Murdock into the historical realism parts of the story, leaving a tale of both fantasy and factual reality but one that at least for me is not really ever to be seen as a smooth and also as a believable whole. Because yes, while I do find the textual details about relics in The Book of Boy and how (sadly) important they seem to have been for pilgrims and for so-called religious pilgrimages intriguing (and that it is in fact a historical reality that relics were really "big business" in Mediaeval Europe, not only collecting, buying them, but also often their thefts), both Segundus and Boy as far as characters go feel both creepy and hard to believe (and in particular Boy talking to animals and the final revelation of what his hunchback actually signifies), and not to mention that the depicted and supposed key to hell, the presence of satanic entities combined with quite a bit of religious, of Mediaeval Catholic dogma, this really does narrationally rub me the wrong proverbial way and also make me personally not consider Catherine Gilbert Murdock's narrative as in fact representing historical fiction per se, but rather that The Book of Boy represents something that I would consider as a Catholicism based religious fantasy (but as such also not the type of fantasy that I actually do and would enjoy reading).
And first and foremost, and for one, albeit that with regard to her sense of and for time and place, Gilbert Murdock most definitely paints a textually rich, colourful and intensely authentic, read realistic feeling portrait of Medieval France and Italy with The Book of Boy and that she also does not spare her young readers from being confronted with and by disease, violence and the fact that for most individuals, for most people life in the Middle Ages was short, painfully hard and often also intensely brutal, well, considering that The Book of Boy is supposedly meant for middle grade readers (as I noticed that the suggested age group on Amazon and on other book selling sites is from about eight to twelve years of age), sorry, but for me, in particular the level of narrational violence and often rather gruesome descriptions encountered in The Book of Boy, it kind of make this story much more suitable for young adult and even for adult readers. And also, and furthermore (but again of course only in my opinion), much of Catherine Gilbert Murdock's depicted horrors and details upon details of pain and suffering, while of course realistic and authentic for the Middle Ages also kind of feel to and for me that in The Book of Boy, Gilbert Murdock seems to almost take some kind of perverse textual pleasure proverbially hitting her readers over their collective heads with an exaggeration of violent scenarios, and that from where I am standing, she very easily could still have shown in The Book of Boy that the Middle Ages were basically not some kind of glorious romp of knights on horseback with less direct depictions of often rather gratuitous violence and with more allusions and verbal nuance.
And for two, I also just do not think that the religious fantasy elements (and Roman Catholic dogma) of The Book of Boy are either all that interesting in and of themselves or even all that successfully incorporated by Catherine Gilbert Murdock into the historical realism parts of the story, leaving a tale of both fantasy and factual reality but one that at least for me is not really ever to be seen as a smooth and also as a believable whole. Because yes, while I do find the textual details about relics in The Book of Boy and how (sadly) important they seem to have been for pilgrims and for so-called religious pilgrimages intriguing (and that it is in fact a historical reality that relics were really "big business" in Mediaeval Europe, not only collecting, buying them, but also often their thefts), both Segundus and Boy as far as characters go feel both creepy and hard to believe (and in particular Boy talking to animals and the final revelation of what his hunchback actually signifies), and not to mention that the depicted and supposed key to hell, the presence of satanic entities combined with quite a bit of religious, of Mediaeval Catholic dogma, this really does narrationally rub me the wrong proverbial way and also make me personally not consider Catherine Gilbert Murdock's narrative as in fact representing historical fiction per se, but rather that The Book of Boy represents something that I would consider as a Catholicism based religious fantasy (but as such also not the type of fantasy that I actually do and would enjoy reading).
January 1, 2019
I am lucky enough to count Jen Adams (author of the amazing Babylit board books and the Edgar the Raven books) as a good friend. Jen and I also have very similar tastes in books, so when she recommends something, I listen! So when she told me, not once but several times, about The Book of Boy, I definitely paid attention. Also I was intrigued by the fact that she was rather cagey about it, only saying that it's about a boy in the Middle Ages . . . and then trailing off. Now I know why! And I will also be cagey about it, because you absolutely have to read this book, and saying ANYTHING else will spoil the wonderful surprises!
Read
March 26, 2019The Book of Boy je baš knjiga za decu od recimo 9-10 godina, jednostavna i topla i ljupka. Takođe je istorijski roman o vremenu neposredno posle velike kuge, tzv. Svetoj godini 1350. kad je papa saopštio da će svima koji hodočaste u Rim biti oprošteni SVI gresi, i roman o malom, dobrom, bezimenom grbavcu koji se uputi na to hodočašće sa novim gospodarom koji smrdi na sumpor i usput prikuplja relikvije Svetog Petra. Ali samo one autentične koje lako može da prepozna - oprže ga.
E sad, kao što iz ovoga možete da zaključite, roman je i vrlo religiozan i to na onaj način koji će jednako izbezumiti i religiozne pahuljice i ateističke pahuljice A TO JE NAJBOLJI NAČIN :D
Kao što su i drugi (tj. Ivana: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show... ) primetili, struktura romana je predvidljiva i solidno pokazuje da je autorka školovana za pisanje filmskih scenarija. Sve je žustro i uzbudljivo dok ne naiđe veliki preokret na pola knjige koji je, međutim, dovoljno najavljivan raznim detaljima pa zapravo može da bude iznenađenje samo za ciljnu grupu, i kad dođemo dotle sve ostalo je u suštini blago spuštanje nizbrdo. Ali nema veze. Glavni likovi, Dečak i njegov gazda Sekundus (khm Snejp khm) su takvi da je uživanje s njima putovati.
E sad, kao što iz ovoga možete da zaključite, roman je i vrlo religiozan i to na onaj način koji će jednako izbezumiti i religiozne pahuljice i ateističke pahuljice A TO JE NAJBOLJI NAČIN :D
Kao što su i drugi (tj. Ivana: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show... ) primetili, struktura romana je predvidljiva i solidno pokazuje da je autorka školovana za pisanje filmskih scenarija. Sve je žustro i uzbudljivo dok ne naiđe veliki preokret na pola knjige koji je, međutim, dovoljno najavljivan raznim detaljima pa zapravo može da bude iznenađenje samo za ciljnu grupu, i kad dođemo dotle sve ostalo je u suštini blago spuštanje nizbrdo. Ali nema veze. Glavni likovi, Dečak i njegov gazda Sekundus (khm Snejp khm) su takvi da je uživanje s njima putovati.
December 24, 2018
An adventure tale set in the 14th century about a boy (Boy) and a mysterious pilgrim (Secundus)as they gather relics in anticipation of redemption at St. Peter's tomb in Rome. Boy can speak to animals and his hunchback may not be the handicap he perceives it to be. His relationship with Secundus grows and changes ultimately showing Boy that there is work to be done and meaning to be found in serving others. Beautifully written and reminiscent of classics like "The Door In the Wall" and "Adam of the Road". Fans of Laura Amy Schlitz will love this new medieval epic.
March 31, 2018
Like others, I think Gidwitz’s The Inquisitor’s Tale is the obvious point of comparison. This book is much better written, often beautiful, but uncanny to the point that I wonder if some people will find this inaccessible, especially compared to Gidwitz.
March 9, 2020
“The key to hell picks all locks”
This book was the group read for this year's Middle Grade March readathon (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44fSl...), and honestly, even though I didn't particularly like it, I am glad it was. This book is so much different than any other middle grade book I ever read (and I read a lot of middle grade) that it had me intrigued. I never thought an author could write a children's book about pilgrims and relics set in the Middle age, but here it is!
The solemn tone, the almost biblical language and the unique setting and atmosphere kept me interested in this book on a literary level. However, even though I grew quite attached to the characters, it wasn't one of those books that I just "couldn't put down". In fact, I wasn't exactly sad when it ended. I appreciated it for what it was and found it very original and interesting, but I don't think I will ever read it again.
This book was the group read for this year's Middle Grade March readathon (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44fSl...), and honestly, even though I didn't particularly like it, I am glad it was. This book is so much different than any other middle grade book I ever read (and I read a lot of middle grade) that it had me intrigued. I never thought an author could write a children's book about pilgrims and relics set in the Middle age, but here it is!
The solemn tone, the almost biblical language and the unique setting and atmosphere kept me interested in this book on a literary level. However, even though I grew quite attached to the characters, it wasn't one of those books that I just "couldn't put down". In fact, I wasn't exactly sad when it ended. I appreciated it for what it was and found it very original and interesting, but I don't think I will ever read it again.
March 21, 2019
Okej, zaljubljena sam u ovu knjigu.
U smislu da otkako sam počela da je čitam svima pričam o njoj i njenim malim osobenostima i znate već.
S druge strane, mogu da shvatim kako se nekome ne bi dopala, možda čak i meni u nekom drugom trenutku.
Dakle, radnja je smeštena u 1350. godinu, nakon one kuge i svega. Narator je dečak, odnosno Dečak, s grbom. Mnogo je pobožan, valjda su svu i to doba bili, ali on je dirljivo i iskreno pobožan. I dobar. Nešto kao Forest Gamp. I baš kao i u Forestu, i ovde je taj pripovedački glas jedna od najboljih stvari.
Druga stvar - forma. Knjiga je koncipirana kao scenario za point-and-click avanturu. Serija malih questova koji vode rešenju glavnog probema. Nekako me iznenadila jednostavnost toga, ali mi je prijala.
I možda glavna stvar. Fantastični deo knjige je zasnovan na katoličanstvu. Da ne idem u detalje, da vam ne kvarim. Čitam komentare ovde i čini mi se da su mnoga verska osećanja ostala povređena time.
U smislu da otkako sam počela da je čitam svima pričam o njoj i njenim malim osobenostima i znate već.
S druge strane, mogu da shvatim kako se nekome ne bi dopala, možda čak i meni u nekom drugom trenutku.
Dakle, radnja je smeštena u 1350. godinu, nakon one kuge i svega. Narator je dečak, odnosno Dečak, s grbom. Mnogo je pobožan, valjda su svu i to doba bili, ali on je dirljivo i iskreno pobožan. I dobar. Nešto kao Forest Gamp. I baš kao i u Forestu, i ovde je taj pripovedački glas jedna od najboljih stvari.
Druga stvar - forma. Knjiga je koncipirana kao scenario za point-and-click avanturu. Serija malih questova koji vode rešenju glavnog probema. Nekako me iznenadila jednostavnost toga, ali mi je prijala.
I možda glavna stvar. Fantastični deo knjige je zasnovan na katoličanstvu. Da ne idem u detalje, da vam ne kvarim. Čitam komentare ovde i čini mi se da su mnoga verska osećanja ostala povređena time.
March 11, 2022
Credit to The Book of Boy for at least one thing: it's more original than most juvenile literature published in the same era. An orphan for as long as he can remember, Boy has been raised as a servant to the adults who rule the manor, but he's not complaining; Europe in the year 1350 is reeling from a plague that wiped out huge portions of its population, as well as an earthquake that reduced magnificent cities to rubble. Life could be much worse for Boy than it is. Father Petrus taught him the essentials, such as the importance of concealing his hunchback from public view; the world would revile Boy for this abnormality, so he must limit his exposure. Sir Jacques, once a legendary warrior and lord of the manor, suffered an accident years ago that damaged his brain, but Boy and the other servants take care of him even if he no longer has the cognitive function to respond. Boy is often chastised by Cook, who commands swift, efficient obedience, but he isn't lonely despite the lack of other children to befriend. Boy has the livestock and wild animals, with whom he can communicate telepathically, and he is satisfied with this. Day after day around the manor is the same, without much prospect for change...and then the pilgrim arrives.
What is Secundus questing after, and why does he need Boy to accompany him? The worst part of life at the manor is Ox, a servant who cruelly mocks Boy for his hunchback, but Secundus deals with him effortlessly before departing with Boy for the city. Traveling the countryside with the pilgrim, who exudes a simmering charisma no one can ignore, Boy discovers that the man's knowledge of European religious heritage is unrivaled, and he's on a mission to track down seven relics sacred to Christendom. These physical vestiges of Saint Peter are very nearly enchanted in the opinion of many believers, and Boy is alarmed by Secundus's willingness to steal them from their owners. What sort of man is he, a saint or a sinner? A pious pilgrim or an incognito demon from Hell?
Secundus has his share of secrets to be revealed during the journey, but so does Boy. He isn't an ordinary hunchback, doomed to distrust and derision from the common man for a genetic malady he has no control over. A vibrant destiny awaits Boy, and Secundus can help him find it. The pilgrim treats his young companion with harshness and compassion in turns, irritated by Boy's slowness of foot yet curious that all animals, even wolves, seem to love and obey him. Surely this is an indispensable asset as Secundus hunts for the seven relics. To Avignon and then across the high seas the two vagabonds travel, outwitting those who boast of owning a piece of Peter's skull or thumb. Secundus insists he needs these sacred items more than the monks and town leaders who possess them, but Boy doesn't feel good about stealing. They head at last to Rome for the most daring heist of all, with Boy clinging to a secret wish: to lay his hands on Peter's tomb and pray to be a real boy, not the monstrous hunchback he has been since birth. Will he and Secundus be granted their ultimate wishes, and if so, what will that granting look like?
"We lose those we love. Such is the nature of life."
—The Book of Boy, P. 92
I struggled in composing this review, and for one reason: The Book of Boy makes almost no sense. Certain turns of phrase are elegant, but the narrative is shrouded in ambiguity from page one and never really clears up. I'm still not sure of Secundus's true life story, or why he needed the relics, or why he required Boy's assistance, or who or what Boy is, or how he knows what became of Secundus in the end. All of this vagueness, along with a near total lack of immersive storytelling, leads me to reluctantly rate The Book of Boy only one and a half stars, though the potential is there for so much better. Growing up with Elizabeth Gilbert as your sister (author of Eat, Pray, Love) put Catherine Gilbert Murdock in unique position for mutual fertilization of literary skills, but I'll leave it to others to judge which sister is the better writer. For 2019, a year of Newbery award candidates that included Dry by Neal and Jarrod Shusterman, Deep Water by Watt Key, and Front Desk by Kelly Yang, The Book of Boy comes nowhere close to earning my Newbery vote, but there are things to admire about it. Ian Schoenherr's cover and interior illustrations are outstanding, to me clearly the best part of the book. Even if you feel as I do about The Book of Boy, you'll find beauty in it if you look deeply.
What is Secundus questing after, and why does he need Boy to accompany him? The worst part of life at the manor is Ox, a servant who cruelly mocks Boy for his hunchback, but Secundus deals with him effortlessly before departing with Boy for the city. Traveling the countryside with the pilgrim, who exudes a simmering charisma no one can ignore, Boy discovers that the man's knowledge of European religious heritage is unrivaled, and he's on a mission to track down seven relics sacred to Christendom. These physical vestiges of Saint Peter are very nearly enchanted in the opinion of many believers, and Boy is alarmed by Secundus's willingness to steal them from their owners. What sort of man is he, a saint or a sinner? A pious pilgrim or an incognito demon from Hell?
Secundus has his share of secrets to be revealed during the journey, but so does Boy. He isn't an ordinary hunchback, doomed to distrust and derision from the common man for a genetic malady he has no control over. A vibrant destiny awaits Boy, and Secundus can help him find it. The pilgrim treats his young companion with harshness and compassion in turns, irritated by Boy's slowness of foot yet curious that all animals, even wolves, seem to love and obey him. Surely this is an indispensable asset as Secundus hunts for the seven relics. To Avignon and then across the high seas the two vagabonds travel, outwitting those who boast of owning a piece of Peter's skull or thumb. Secundus insists he needs these sacred items more than the monks and town leaders who possess them, but Boy doesn't feel good about stealing. They head at last to Rome for the most daring heist of all, with Boy clinging to a secret wish: to lay his hands on Peter's tomb and pray to be a real boy, not the monstrous hunchback he has been since birth. Will he and Secundus be granted their ultimate wishes, and if so, what will that granting look like?
"We lose those we love. Such is the nature of life."
—The Book of Boy, P. 92
I struggled in composing this review, and for one reason: The Book of Boy makes almost no sense. Certain turns of phrase are elegant, but the narrative is shrouded in ambiguity from page one and never really clears up. I'm still not sure of Secundus's true life story, or why he needed the relics, or why he required Boy's assistance, or who or what Boy is, or how he knows what became of Secundus in the end. All of this vagueness, along with a near total lack of immersive storytelling, leads me to reluctantly rate The Book of Boy only one and a half stars, though the potential is there for so much better. Growing up with Elizabeth Gilbert as your sister (author of Eat, Pray, Love) put Catherine Gilbert Murdock in unique position for mutual fertilization of literary skills, but I'll leave it to others to judge which sister is the better writer. For 2019, a year of Newbery award candidates that included Dry by Neal and Jarrod Shusterman, Deep Water by Watt Key, and Front Desk by Kelly Yang, The Book of Boy comes nowhere close to earning my Newbery vote, but there are things to admire about it. Ian Schoenherr's cover and interior illustrations are outstanding, to me clearly the best part of the book. Even if you feel as I do about The Book of Boy, you'll find beauty in it if you look deeply.
August 2, 2018
I read this book out loud to my 9 & 11 year old sons. It was difficult to read out loud and consequently was a slow start. We were never quite sure if the book was historical or fantasy, and that was a difficult too. Plus, we are a Christian family, so the doctrine was difficult to sort out what was real and not. That said, my 11 year old loved the whole story. My 9 year old said it was good because of the end. WE LOVED THE END! It was heartwarming and beautiful with a clear positive message!
August 27, 2019
Loved it! Everything about it. There's magic, but no magic. It's almost more of a magical realism, a magic intertwined with belief. A hunchback boy is sold to an ominous stranger as an assistant on his quest for holy relics - which he believes will save his soul. I love how Murdock hints at things without explaining, in fact, though much becomes clear, some things never do, and it's lovely. I recommend.
June 13, 2018
Loved the tale! Many reviews are comparing this to the Inquisitor’s Tale. I did not like The Inquisitor’s Tale. That story bored me. I liked this story much more. The book reminded me of Avi’s Crispin. I really liked the relationship build up of Secundus and Boy. In the end, the needed each other.
March 30, 2018
Think Gidwitz's The Inquisitor's Tale and Whalen Turner's The Thief. Medieval setting, Mission Impossible-like quest for religious relics, and a few fun plot twists. Fun and original.
February 12, 2023
I guess the Newbery Committees have decided that if a book is not comprehensible they must be missing the point, so it should get the award. This was a 2019 Newbery honor, not the winner. And it is pretty awful. It is about the cruelty of the medieval times towards the disabled. Actually, I'm a bit surprised it didn't get any mention by the Schneider. Perhaps because there really isn't any redeeming quality in terms of the attitude toward the disabled. The closest to this would be the Door in the Wall which deserved the medal. This doesn't deserve it. Fantasy is supposed to be internally consistent, which this book isn't. It often should show an aspect and explain part of the real world, especially if it is something people tend to avoid thinking about. That doesn't apply here. This leaves so many questions if you take the book at its face value. What is the origin of Boy? How is it that if Boy is what the author claims...I'm really trying not to give any spoilers!...that Boy is unaware of what Boy is? How is it that Boy can associate with Milord who apparently is more or less the opposite of Boy? Finally, what happens to Boy? Why would Boy return to the home where the treatment was so bad?
Actually this book explains a lot to me. Why is it that the Newbery titles are often the ones with the worst circulation? Because they are books grownups feel kids SHOULD read....although I'm damned (word carefully chosen) if I can see why any sensible adult would try to shove this onto a child.
I'm very glad I checked this out from the library and did not waste any money buying this. Emphatically not recommended. It didn't get zero stars because I did finish this since I thought it had to get better. Boy, was I wrong!
Actually this book explains a lot to me. Why is it that the Newbery titles are often the ones with the worst circulation? Because they are books grownups feel kids SHOULD read....although I'm damned (word carefully chosen) if I can see why any sensible adult would try to shove this onto a child.
I'm very glad I checked this out from the library and did not waste any money buying this. Emphatically not recommended. It didn't get zero stars because I did finish this since I thought it had to get better. Boy, was I wrong!
April 7, 2019
Pomalo sam uvređena činjenicom da je ovo knjiga za decu od desetak godina, jer ja apsolutno nisam mogla da predvidim šta će se sve izdešavati, čak sam se i rasplakala na kraju i shvatila koliko mi je život bio lepši na dečijem odeljenju biblioteke pre mnogo godina.
Ovo je stvarno divna knjiga, otprilike kao mešavina Nilsa Holgersona i Ružnog pačeta u srednjem veku, o jednom malom grbavcu koji putuje kroz Evropu sa svojim novim gospodarom i tako skupljaju relikvije Svetog Petra, jednu po jednu, da bi ih odneli na njegov grob u Rimu i gde će zauzvrat biti nagrađeni onime što najviše žele. Mislim da bi animirani film bio pun pogodak!
Ovo je stvarno divna knjiga, otprilike kao mešavina Nilsa Holgersona i Ružnog pačeta u srednjem veku, o jednom malom grbavcu koji putuje kroz Evropu sa svojim novim gospodarom i tako skupljaju relikvije Svetog Petra, jednu po jednu, da bi ih odneli na njegov grob u Rimu i gde će zauzvrat biti nagrađeni onime što najviše žele. Mislim da bi animirani film bio pun pogodak!
March 11, 2020
I went into this book expecting an adventure story. The blurb on Goodreads even says that it's "action-packed". But, that was not the truth. This book is a quest the main character, Boy, goes on with a pilgrim to collect relics. But each time they go to get a relic the event is over so quickly, without hardly any struggle or excitement. If this book had been any longer I probably wouldn't have even bothered to finish it.
February 19, 2018
Well-written, but odd. And the medieval setting makes it unlikely that many kids will pick it up. The strong religious elements may create strong feelings as they did with me.
March 11, 2020
I got a head start on this year's Middle Grade March Group Read pick. I've not read many books set in the middle ages and I've certainly never read a children's book set in the middle ages. This book was definitely in the adventure genre. Readers follow "Boy," the main character and the quest he is forced to go on with an older man until he can return home. His adventure ends up being the highlight of his short life. There is a magical element thrown in but the story on the whole is historical fiction. Overall, this was a good read.
February 19, 2019
Set in the Europe of the Middle Ages, this is the story of a hunchback boy, the pilgrim who takes him into his service, and their trip from France to Rome (with many stops in between). But it's also about secrets and mysteries, heaven and hell, angels and demons, and miracles of all sorts, both supernatural ones and - the best kind, really - beautiful, everyday ones. Highly, highly recommended.
August 8, 2018
I was really looking forward to this book- a historical fiction middle level book that was not US history. This is also a fantasy book and the author does nothing to help readers understand the history and church practices in 1350. A student would not really understand the Black Death either. This book is not for children- it would be a rare middle schooler that would stick with this book. I wish it would have just been a historical fiction book. Hoping this is not the Newbery 2019 book- it is on some watch lists- have no idea why.
February 23, 2019
The Book of Boy takes place in the medieval era. It is a story about Boy who goes on a pilgrimage with a strange man who seems to see to the core of everyone he meets and is on a strange quest. From a literary perspective, this is an excellently well-written book. Murdock manages to maintain her medieval language style, which is not always an easy task when writing from a modern perspective. It is definitely a credit to her craft and a plus for readers who enjoy being fully immersed in a setting. I just was not the audience for this book. I don't like medieval style or era fiction in general, and the style of the writing was more of an annoyance to me than anything. I also figured everything out in the first two chapters. (I am NOT saying this is a flaw with the book or the writing. The intended audience will not. I'm just an adult with an extensive experience in this subject area so...). For me, it did diminish my personal enjoyment as I couldn't invest much interest in the characters after that. I don't like books on that particular subject either. I guess I can see from a sentence level writing perspective why it was given a Newbery Honor, but I was largely underwhelmed and can't say I will be talking it up to many students. This book will require a particular reader.
February 10, 2025
Cuando se representa la Edad Media (o una idea fantástica que alude a la Edad Media) la gente suele fallar mucho cuando se ignora la enorme influencia de la religiosidad popular en esta época tan larga. Específicamente en lo que se llama la Baja Edad Media. Por eso esta novela middle grade es importante al no sólo acertar en este punto, sino en tejer toda una historia a su alrededor. Es una narración tierna pero muy para lectores muy jóvenes.
February 19, 2020
Ragionando sulla recensione mi sono decisa a scendere a una stella, perché più ci penso e più questo libro mi sembra inutile e senza senso. Ho trovato diverse recensioni che parlano di gioia, e di divertimento, di risate, e di come sia importante rispondere in questo modo al filone sempre più ricco di libri per ragazzi "grevi", concentrati su temi seri e contemporanei... Sono d'accordissimo, ma non credo che questa sia la risposta giusta. Seriamente, io non ci ho trovato nulla da ridere.
Probabilmente è anche un problema di "packaging", nel senso che il libro viene presentato – almeno l'edizione italiana – come un romanzo concentrato sul Medioevo, senza però fare accenni al fantastico. Probabilmente questo ha generato in me delle aspettative che sono state disattese. Se poi l'elemento fantastico/religioso non è eccezionale... ahia.
Su wikipedia l'autrice riporta un caposaldo del fantasy contemporaneo che le avrebbe fatto da ispirazione, Jonathan Strange e il Signor Norrell, ma credo che il volersi ispirare alla capacità dell'autrice di questo tomone incredibile sia rimasta un'intenzione. Il medioevo è talmente sublimato che ho capito subito senza neanche controllare che l'autrice fosse americana, e non mi sorprende che lettori e critici americani lo definiscano un buon libro sul medioevo. Sarà un pregiudizio, ma penso sia evidente che un autore europeo avrebbe un background molto più solido, culturalmente parlando, per descrivere un medioevo molto più ricco, realistico e concreto. Poi già solo il fatto che il ragazzino sia francese e tutti lo chiamino Boy è... sigh. Trasformato in "Ragazzo" in italiano, l'amaro rimane (anche perché all'inizio un "Boy" rimane, che a maggior ragione non ha senso). Questo mi porta a chiedermi se sia più che altro un problema di traduzione, perché leggo in inglese delle valutazioni eccezionali del linguaggio per la commistione con termini desueti e arcaici e la lingua moderna... boh, ma sul serio, dove è questo lavoro? Non pervenuto, proprio.
La storia di per sé fa acqua da tutte le parti, per mio gusto, non arriva mai al punto e il finale è buttato via. L'elemento fantastico/sovrannaturale si intuisce platealmente molto prima della rivelazione effettiva, per entrambi i personaggi, ed è snervante più che altro, perché se per Secundus viene spiegato come ha fatto a essere dov'è, per Ragazzo no, non c'è bisogno di spiegazioni. Prendete e portate a casa... mah.
Così come non tollero che un personaggio buono, dove la bontà è la sua prima caratteristica, sia però per forza di cose dipinto come uno stupido o un mentecatto. Ragazzo, che allo stesso tempo custodisce con molta attenzione i suoi segreti, sembra spesso un cretino, anche quando parla con gli animali.
Fastidioso, nella sua sciatteria. Mi sorprende che sia arrivato finalista a un premio importante come il Newbery Medal.
Probabilmente è anche un problema di "packaging", nel senso che il libro viene presentato – almeno l'edizione italiana – come un romanzo concentrato sul Medioevo, senza però fare accenni al fantastico. Probabilmente questo ha generato in me delle aspettative che sono state disattese. Se poi l'elemento fantastico/religioso non è eccezionale... ahia.
Su wikipedia l'autrice riporta un caposaldo del fantasy contemporaneo che le avrebbe fatto da ispirazione, Jonathan Strange e il Signor Norrell, ma credo che il volersi ispirare alla capacità dell'autrice di questo tomone incredibile sia rimasta un'intenzione. Il medioevo è talmente sublimato che ho capito subito senza neanche controllare che l'autrice fosse americana, e non mi sorprende che lettori e critici americani lo definiscano un buon libro sul medioevo. Sarà un pregiudizio, ma penso sia evidente che un autore europeo avrebbe un background molto più solido, culturalmente parlando, per descrivere un medioevo molto più ricco, realistico e concreto. Poi già solo il fatto che il ragazzino sia francese e tutti lo chiamino Boy è... sigh. Trasformato in "Ragazzo" in italiano, l'amaro rimane (anche perché all'inizio un "Boy" rimane, che a maggior ragione non ha senso). Questo mi porta a chiedermi se sia più che altro un problema di traduzione, perché leggo in inglese delle valutazioni eccezionali del linguaggio per la commistione con termini desueti e arcaici e la lingua moderna... boh, ma sul serio, dove è questo lavoro? Non pervenuto, proprio.
La storia di per sé fa acqua da tutte le parti, per mio gusto, non arriva mai al punto e il finale è buttato via. L'elemento fantastico/sovrannaturale si intuisce platealmente molto prima della rivelazione effettiva, per entrambi i personaggi, ed è snervante più che altro, perché se per Secundus viene spiegato come ha fatto a essere dov'è, per Ragazzo no, non c'è bisogno di spiegazioni. Prendete e portate a casa... mah.
Così come non tollero che un personaggio buono, dove la bontà è la sua prima caratteristica, sia però per forza di cose dipinto come uno stupido o un mentecatto. Ragazzo, che allo stesso tempo custodisce con molta attenzione i suoi segreti, sembra spesso un cretino, anche quando parla con gli animali.
Fastidioso, nella sua sciatteria. Mi sorprende che sia arrivato finalista a un premio importante come il Newbery Medal.
February 15, 2019
THIS BOOK IS ABLEIST.
THIS BOOK IS ABLEIST.
THIS BOOK IS ABLEIST.
I don’t think goodreads reviews let you make the font any larger, but the second they do I will update this review so I am type-screaming as loud as possible.
The main character, Boy, begins the book with a hunchback (which is called kyphosis) and is considered by those around him as stupid and useless. That causes him a lot of emotional hurt, but he is relatively content with his life as is despite being literally valued at nothing. As he starts off on this pilgrimage with Secundus, what he really hopes to gain from the quest is to reach the holy sites and have his prayer granted to be a normal boy. I anticipated this going in a self-acceptance direction, but that was obviously too generous.
Boy is an angel, and the kyphosis is actually underdeveloped wings. Once he starts to discover those wings, his back gets larger and larger as his wings expand. The wings are eventually folded up nicely by a group of kindly women and poof he appears as an able-bodied child. It reads as if he prays away his disability. He was fixed! Bravo! Everything is great now! Just kidding, and instead fuck right off.
At the end of the story he is fine, which is baffling given that he lived his entire life until that point experiencing so much discrimination! That internalized pain doesn’t just poof disappear because he can now pass as able-bodied. His life is great now hooray! He didn’t need to be fixed! He’s accepting of who he is at the end (a literal perfect angel are you kidding me) , but he and his world were certainly not accepting of who he was before. Conditional acceptance is not acceptance!
It makes me absolutely FURIOUS that so few people are seeing the ableism in the book and that it was rewarded with one of the highest honors in children’s literature.
My initial reaction was quite favorable but I genuinely don’t know who it is for. It was really slow starting and (ableism aside I guess? Barf. Never.) I can’t quite picture any child to whom I would recommend this. I liked it more than the Inquisitor’s Tale, and I think the single narrator is helpful. I think my initial goodwill was because I was caught up in the Catholic of it all. The only part of Catholicism I carry with me (besides guilt) is reliance on saints. However, I can’t excuse this dumb ableist narrative.
THIS BOOK IS ABLEIST.
THIS BOOK IS ABLEIST.
I don’t think goodreads reviews let you make the font any larger, but the second they do I will update this review so I am type-screaming as loud as possible.
The main character, Boy, begins the book with a hunchback (which is called kyphosis) and is considered by those around him as stupid and useless. That causes him a lot of emotional hurt, but he is relatively content with his life as is despite being literally valued at nothing. As he starts off on this pilgrimage with Secundus, what he really hopes to gain from the quest is to reach the holy sites and have his prayer granted to be a normal boy. I anticipated this going in a self-acceptance direction, but that was obviously too generous.
Boy is an angel, and the kyphosis is actually underdeveloped wings. Once he starts to discover those wings, his back gets larger and larger as his wings expand. The wings are eventually folded up nicely by a group of kindly women and poof he appears as an able-bodied child. It reads as if he prays away his disability. He was fixed! Bravo! Everything is great now! Just kidding, and instead fuck right off.
At the end of the story he is fine, which is baffling given that he lived his entire life until that point experiencing so much discrimination! That internalized pain doesn’t just poof disappear because he can now pass as able-bodied. His life is great now hooray! He didn’t need to be fixed! He’s accepting of who he is at the end (a literal perfect angel are you kidding me) , but he and his world were certainly not accepting of who he was before. Conditional acceptance is not acceptance!
It makes me absolutely FURIOUS that so few people are seeing the ableism in the book and that it was rewarded with one of the highest honors in children’s literature.
My initial reaction was quite favorable but I genuinely don’t know who it is for. It was really slow starting and (ableism aside I guess? Barf. Never.) I can’t quite picture any child to whom I would recommend this. I liked it more than the Inquisitor’s Tale, and I think the single narrator is helpful. I think my initial goodwill was because I was caught up in the Catholic of it all. The only part of Catholicism I carry with me (besides guilt) is reliance on saints. However, I can’t excuse this dumb ableist narrative.
September 28, 2019
How delightful to have a tale of magical realism set in 1350. Even more unique, it’s magical realism based on the religious fervor of relic worship/relic tourism/pilgrimage. This was a creative yet simple story, but even in its simplicity, the amount of research is impressive. Even with the more magical, supernatural elements of the story, everything felt very believable and precise, and setting aside the aforementioned supernatural elements, very accurate to Middle Ages church history.
The syntax took a bit of getting used to, but the further I got into the story, the easier it became. Especially because the characters unfolded slowly enough to draw me in more and more each time I read. I really loved the relationship that formed between Boy and Secundus, with all its ups and downs, tender at times and sad at times. Secundus was simply a fantastic character. I felt very bittersweet about him, but he’s really the one who drew me in. Though Boy was such a dear. I was fond of him, but the most interesting characters to me are the ones with a dark and mysterious past.
Really nice for a quick little read!
The syntax took a bit of getting used to, but the further I got into the story, the easier it became. Especially because the characters unfolded slowly enough to draw me in more and more each time I read. I really loved the relationship that formed between Boy and Secundus, with all its ups and downs, tender at times and sad at times. Secundus was simply a fantastic character. I felt very bittersweet about him, but he’s really the one who drew me in. Though Boy was such a dear. I was fond of him, but the most interesting characters to me are the ones with a dark and mysterious past.
Really nice for a quick little read!
January 10, 2025
I'd say 3.5 stars.
I liked this book because it taught me something about history that I did not know anything about before--the journey of pilgrims and the collections of relics in the 1300's. It is fascinating to learn that religious figures' bones or pieces of cloth are valued so highly--I mean it makes sense, but I just didn't know that it was a thing.
The book is written in such simple language that a few times I felt like I didn't understand what had just happened, because it wasn't explained. Boy is such a sweet character, and so simple. I liked his growth throughout the story and his resolution was satisfying, as was the resolution of Secondus.
I will say, I was surprised by the turn of events for Boy. I couldn't have necessarily told you what I thought would happen, but if I had to guess, I would not have guessed correctly.
I liked this book because it taught me something about history that I did not know anything about before--the journey of pilgrims and the collections of relics in the 1300's. It is fascinating to learn that religious figures' bones or pieces of cloth are valued so highly--I mean it makes sense, but I just didn't know that it was a thing.
The book is written in such simple language that a few times I felt like I didn't understand what had just happened, because it wasn't explained. Boy is such a sweet character, and so simple. I liked his growth throughout the story and his resolution was satisfying, as was the resolution of Secondus.
I will say, I was surprised by the turn of events for Boy. I couldn't have necessarily told you what I thought would happen, but if I had to guess, I would not have guessed correctly.
April 20, 2019
A winner of the Newbery Honor Award for this year, and, not for the first time, a better book than the actual winner. The book jacket states the following:
“What a fine story this is! For who does not want to read about such things? A boy who can talk to animals. A terrifying, perilous journey full of bravery and daring. Knights and bandits and ghosts and thieves. Howling wolves, heroic donkeys, and a bag of bones. Lords, ladies, liars and riches beyond compare. And mysteries and miracles—of the sort that concern the living and the dead.”
I loved it. An easy read, fascinating and intriguing. Fun for the whole family. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
“What a fine story this is! For who does not want to read about such things? A boy who can talk to animals. A terrifying, perilous journey full of bravery and daring. Knights and bandits and ghosts and thieves. Howling wolves, heroic donkeys, and a bag of bones. Lords, ladies, liars and riches beyond compare. And mysteries and miracles—of the sort that concern the living and the dead.”
I loved it. An easy read, fascinating and intriguing. Fun for the whole family. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
January 14, 2019
Soo good! The writing, the characters, the action-packed plot, the historical details. The ending let it down a tiny bit, but overall I just loved it and it's definitely my favorite of the year so far!
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