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.