The Silver Trumpet

by Owen Barfield, Josephine Spence (Illustrator), Marjorie Lamp Mead (Editor)

In this delightful fantasy of kings and queens, a magical Silver Trumpet, a jester dwarf, and castle intrigues, English author Owen Barfield has created an enduring tale to captivate the imaginations of all readers. This beautifully illustrated edition of The Silver Trumpet, a story which first appeared in print in 1925, contains a helpful biographical note on Barfield by Marjorie Lamp Mead. An entertaining and handsome volume, it will be a valuable addition to the libraries of collectors, families, and schools.

Genres: Fantasy, Fiction, Classics, Fairy Tales, Childrens, Novels, Literature

126 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1925

About the author

Arthur Owen Barfield was a British philosopher, author, poet, and critic.

Barfield was born in London. He was educated at Highgate School and Wadham College, Oxford and in 1920 received a first class degree in English language and literature. After finishing his B. Litt., which became his third book Poetic Diction, he was a dedicated poet and author for over ten years. After 1934 his profession was as a solicitor in London, from which he retired in 1959 aged 60. Thereafter he had many guest appointments as Visiting Professor in North America. Barfield published numerous essays, books, and articles. His primary focus was on what he called the "evolution of consciousness," which is an idea which occurs frequently in his writings. He is best known as a founding father of Anthroposophy in the English speaking world.

Barfield has been known as "the first and last Inkling". He had a profound influence on C. S. Lewis, and through his books The Silver Trumpet and Poetic Diction (dedicated to C.S. Lewis), an appreciable effect on J. R. R. Tolkien. Lewis was a good friend of Barfield since 1919, and termed Barfield "the best and wisest of my unofficial teachers". That Barfield did not consider philosophy merely intellectually is illustrated by a well-known interchange that took place between Lewis and Barfield. Lewis one day made the mistake of referring to philosophy as "a subject." "It wasn't a subject to Plato," said Barfield, "It was a way." Lewis refers to Barfield as the "Second Friend" in Surprised by Joy:

But the Second Friend is the man who disagrees with you about everything. He is not so much the alter ego as the antiself. Of course he shares your interests; otherwise he would not become your friend at all. But he has approached them all at a different angle. He has read all the right books but has got the wrong thing out of every one. It is as if he spoke your language but mispronounced it. How can he be so nearly right and yet, invariably, just not right?

Barfield and C. S. Lewis met in 1919 and were close friends for 44 years. Barfield was instrumental in converting Lewis to theism during the early period of their friendship which they affectionately called 'The Great War'. Maud also guided Lewis. As well as being friend and teacher to Lewis, Barfield was his legal adviser and trustee. Lewis dedicated his 1936 book Allegory of Love to Barfield. Lewis wrote his 1949 book The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe for Lucy Barfield and he dedicated The Voyage of the Dawn Treader to Geoffrey in 1952.

Reviews

[Cindy Rollins · Rating 3 out of 5]

There were some great moments in this fairytale but it seemed awkwardly told. Perhaps it could use another reading when I have grown up more. I was especially amazed by the section about the princess being ill while the villagers mobbed her home and thought her husband was the bad guy. Shades of A Winter’s Tale.

[Edward Waters · Rating 4 out of 5]

As Owen Barfield's first published book and only work of fiction, THE SILVER TRUMPET is a bit difficult to evaluate. On the face of it we have a story spanning three generations of monarchs in a kingdom the name of which we are never told but whose seat is called Mountainy Castle. The opening chapter introduces us to newborn twin princesses, a nobleman called the 'Lord High Teller of the Other from Which', an elderly woman who may or may not be a witch and may or may not be benign, a newly arrived prince from a neighboring kingdom which IS named, and the titular Silver Trumpet with remarkable power that becomes evident over time but which is never accounted for. After this things get complicated.

The best advice to readers would probably be not to judge the story too quickly. I did, and nearly abandoned it soon after that first chapter, which had struck me as too affected and silly even for children's literature. The author's reputation, however, and my longstanding interest in Inklings studies convinced me to keep at it. Even so, I set the book aside for more than a month. Upon resuming, however, I found that the writing seemed less disagreeable and the story more engaging. Then, just over a third of the way through, I was startled by the tragic death of two major characters (one with horrible slander on his memory) and later still by a prolonged psychological trauma inflicted on a very young child! If my first impression had been one of condescending fluff, I now questioned whether such dark intensity was appropriate for the age-group the book presumably targeted.

All I can say is that it ends well. True to its faerie-tale model, the resolution is sudden and fanciful, yet I found it satisfying and a worthy example of what Tolkien termed 'Eucatastrophe' -- 'a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur. It does not deny the existence ... of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies ... universal final defeat.' Not all the losses, injustices, and hurts in THE SILVER TRUMPET are erased in the end; yet they do find resolution and healing. As I closed the book at last, I was glad I had stayed with it. I was also now a little sorry that Barfield did not made further excursions into this genre.

[Jeremy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Looks like a new edition should appear sometime in 2025.

From C. S. Lewis's letter to Owen Barfield on June 28, 1936 (in Vol. 2 of Collected Letters): "I lent The Silver Trumpet [originally published in 1925] to Tolkien and hear that it is the greatest success among his children that they have ever known. His own fairy-tales, which are excellent, have now no market: and its first reading—children are so practical!—led to a universal wail 'You're not going to give it back to Mr. Lewis, are you?' All the things which the wiseacres on child psychology in our circle said when you wrote it turn out to be nonsense. 'They liked the sad parts', said Tolkien, 'because they were sad and the puzzling parts because they were puzzling, as children always do.' The youngest boy liked Gamboy because 'she was clever and the bad people in books usually aren't.' The tags of the Podger have become so popular as to be almost a nuisance in the house. In fine, you have scored a direct hit."

5: princess twins with a strong connection
8-9: blessing/curse that makes them even closer
10: major difference between Violetta (Violet) and Gambetta (Gamboy)
12: explanation of their blessing/curse
12-13: different responses to hearing the silver trumpet
21: Little Fat Podger and Prince Courtesy
22: Grotesque/Gothic; looking for adventures?
31/33: the power of music (including the silver trumpet) to change attitudes
36: the breaking of Miss Thomson's spell?
38: two ways of loving people (to advance their well-being, or to get them to do what you want them to do)
90: a very Inkling-esque reference to longing
100: foreshadowing to the return of a previous character
105: reference to another character whom I did not expect to return
124: hint of a major upcoming event that was foreshadowed with Miss Thomson (pp. 8-9)
142: fulfillment of the foreshadowing on p. 124

[Cynthia Egbert · Rating 4 out of 5]

I came to this one due to its back story and I am glad that I did. I am intrigued by the folks who surrounded and influenced C.S. Lewis. (The Great War between Lewis and Barfield is SO fascinating.) I just finished MacDonald's Lilith and I needed something far less verbose and this was just the ticket. I have to say that this villain may well be the most chilling monster I have come in contact with in a long time, maybe ever. Like Lilith, this is a fairy tale but this one is written for a younger audience. The ending was clever and intriguing and this story would make for some great discussion as a read aloud with a young person. There is magic and villainy and wisdom and some interesting characters. I recommend it highly!

[Jonny Parshall · Rating 5 out of 5]

A splendid fairy tale. True in every sense. How is it it is not better known? It is seldom remembered, but contains all of the quality of a classic. Quite derived, sure, from earlier works such as those by the Grimms, Andrew Lang's color-coordinated fairy books, and George MacDonald — but what isn't? Even Barfield's Inkling colleagues — Tolkien and Lewis, especially — borrowed heavily from earlier works.

This book is of a whimsical nature: juvenile in execution, but very dark at times. It is accompanied beautifully by penciled illustrations.

[ValeReads Kyriosity · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's a group reading of this on the 52 Living Ideas YouTube channel that I'd say is about the same level as your average LibriVox recording. The first edition is in the public domain, so somebody should get on the ball and do a higher quality audio edition. (Are you listening, Canon Press? Being the first out of the gate will give you an advantage. Just make sure the narrator can read the trumpet sounds in a trumpety way and the marching rhyme to a marchy cadence and knows that gaol is just the British spelling of jail and is pronounced the same way. Belle Iverson is done with the Jones books, so put her on the job.)

Enjoyed the story, though there are layers of meaning that I'm sure I don't get. Grateful for Dawn's recent review that prompted me to look for it.

[Lizzie Lashbrook · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wasn’t sure what to think of this one at first but I came to enjoy it especially at the end when the Prince appeared. Definitely would have liked if it was little longer as it spans three generations and goes through each one rather quickly. Gamboy also made me irate with all her meddling! Overall a fun, enjoyable, and unique story!

[Patrick · Rating 3 out of 5]

The silver trumpet is unlike the “magical objects” one finds in conventional fantasy. Such objects (a fabled sword, a ring of power, a cloak of invisibility) are defined ultimately by their utility. Depending on the predilections of the wielder, they may be used for good or evil, and as such have no inherent positive quality; power they have, but not virtue. I can see why authors prefer this sort of magic - there is a bias in fiction towards those aspects of reality that yield plot devices, and these sorts of magical items make fine objects for quests and (because they can also be used by the enemy) ensure plot-tension.

But Barfield is out to write a fable of self-deception and self-awareness. He conceives of a magic item, a trumpet, that awakes people to their better selves. It cannot be used by an evil overlord; if such an enemy were to come into possession of it, the only thing to do would be to hide it away. Which is exactly what happens.

As seems to be the case with most intellectuals who try their hand at narrative, their conception is better than their execution. Still, I prefer this to the vice-versa - the masterful execution of narratives of no particular value.

[Eugene Terekhin · Rating 5 out of 5]

The first book of fantasy ever published by the Inklings that influenced Tolkien and Lewis!

"Once upon a time there were two little Princesses whose names were Violetta and Gambetta; and they lived in Mountainy Castle. They were twins, and they were so like each other that when Violetta came in from a walk with her feet wet, Gambetta was sometimes told to go and change her stockings…"
The Silver Trumpet

So opens The Silver Trumpet, a fairy-tale written by Owen Barfield in 1925. It was his first published book and the first fantasy book ever published by the Inklings. According to the author himself, he felt that in all his books he was “saying the same thing over and over again.” But what is this “one thing” he was saying over and over again? And how did he say it in The Silver Trumpet?

The Silver Trumpet is a mythical depiction of what Owen Barfield would later unfold in his other works and, in some way, a prelude to what seems to be the overall message of the Inklings — the world is God’s music clad in matter. In Saving the Appearances, Barfield points out that we live in the world of unsaved images — images that have been taken literally and turned into idols.

The images (or appearances) we observe around us are so much “like” the things they represent that we have a hard time distinguishing between them. We take a representation for the reality behind it. For us, the image and the thing it represents look alike, almost indistinguishable — like the two little princesses, Violetta and Gambetta, who were so like each other that even the Queen had a hard time distinguishing them.

The Queen used to be so fussed and worried by the confusion that, what with one thing and another, she persuaded the King to appoint a special Lord to distinguish between them [the princesses]. And he was called the Lord High Teller of the Other from Which.

The Lord High Teller of the Other from Which was the only one who noticed the difference between the two princesses. But it was not in their appearances but in what transpired through the appearances.

Moreover, he “knew a thing or two about the magic power of names,” and so he found a way to tell the two princesses apart — by changing their names. By calling them Violet and Gamboy he brought out into the light of day what was otherwise invisible — the princesses were “as different inside as a Church and a Booking Office.”

In Barfield’s mind, the two little princesses who were almost identical in appearance represent the confusion of the modern mind about observable phenomena. We tend to equate appearances with the reality they point to. This anthroposophical dilemma Owen Barfield would later explore in Saving the Appearances: A Study in Idolatry.
What are some examples of modern-day idolatry?

Idolatry, in Barfield’s thought, is taking images literally. He argues that modern consciousness equates the image of a thing with the thing itself. And this is the result of a non-participatory view of life that says: “The world is an object out there and totally separate from me as the observer.” Moreover, if I want to know this world, I must not relate to it in any way — which is the only way to keep my “experiment” clean. In a non-participatory worldview, the basic assumption is that to know something means to study it externally. In a participatory worldview, to know something means to relate to it.

If I am totally disconnected from the tree I see outside, I won’t see anything in it beyond what is visible. In fact, I must not assume there’s anything to it beyond what I can see. Owen Barfield says that by taking the images literally we create idols out of them because we look at them, not through them. By looking at them we assume that the sign is the thing it points to. We look at the Sun and conclude that it actually is what it appears to be — a ball of gas.

“In our world,” said Eustace, “a star is a huge ball of flaming gas.”
Even in your world, my son, that is not what a star is, but only what it is made of.” C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

When we confuse the visible shape and form of a tree with what the tree is we create a mental image of it and take it for reality. We believe there’s nothing more to it than meets the eye. We have confused the appearance of a thing with what the thing truly is. In Barfield’s symbolism, it happens when a person loses the Silver Trumpet —the only thing that can save the appearances and restore them to their divine status.

When prince Courtesy’s father, the king of Dravidia, gave his son the Silver Trumpet, he warned him to never ever part with it, not even to save his life. Yet, this is exactly what happened. He lost it to save his life — namely, not to feel rejected by his beloved princess Violet. This opened Pandora’s box of endless troubles which led to his ultimate confusion — losing Violet and replacing her with her counterpart, her “unsaved image,” Gamboy.

The twin sisters, Violet and Gamboy, stand, respectively, for a saved and unsaved appearance. When we take an image for reality, the image stops being a representation of the invisible world; it becomes an idol, a mental projection of how we choose to see things (Barfield calls this process “figuration”).

When we don’t see the difference between the ball of gas and the Sun, the appearance of the Sun is equated with the Sun. And it becomes an “unsaved” image. It doesn’t serve its purpose anymore — pointing to what the Sun actually is. Instead, it becomes a dumb idol and, eventually, a doorway for demons to come into our world.
What is wrong with idol worship?

In Barfield’s mythology, Gamboy is an unsaved appearance of Violet — reality reduced to a mere shape. She is an image taken literally — an idol. And as such, she becomes a portal for demonic forces to enter Mountainy Castle and lay a curse on all its inhabitants. When we worship an idol— an unsaved image— we open the door to evil. Since youth, Gamboy was reading her big black book that, as it turns out later, was full of magic.

There was a good deal of magic in that book. And, of course, as it was a black book, it was Black Magic.

When we equate appearances with reality, we lose the appearances. They no longer reflect reality; they substitute for it. In Barfield’s story, Violet dies. Prince Courtesy dies too — spiritually. The castle is under a spell; there’s grave silence everywhere.

For months, nay, for years now, the Castle, he said, had been like a painted castle. There was a spell on it. The King silent in his study all day and the Princess shut up in her tower. Even the servants went about their work with hushed voices and glum faces. A silence like death seemed to have come upon them all.

When images cease to be signposts pointing to a larger reality, they are no longer images. They stop being transparent and no longer point to heaven. When we start worshipping them, they allow the forces of hell to flood our world. This is the price prince Courtesy had to pay for being too courteous when he parted with the Silver Trumpet — the only thing that could save the appearance of his beloved!

Until the Silver Trumpet was regained, Violet was gone and replaced by Gamboy. But in some ways, Violet was still present — behind Gamboy’s empty shell.

The King positively started because of her likeness to Violet. Her eyes seemed to grow larger and more transparent and to move nearer to him, and it was as though a voice spoke out of them saying “It is I, Violet, who am looking at you, my own darling: not dead, but hidden in here.

The moment we take an image literally instead of looking through it, Violet becomes Gamboy. Reality dies. The world shrinks. The Sun becomes a ball of gas. The river becomes just H2O. Human beings are reduced to machines. Trees become firewood. Life becomes survival.
What did the ancients think about the Sun?

The ancients knew that the appearance of the Sun and the Sun itself were two different things. They looked at the Sun but saw a perfect reflection of the invisible Deity:

[The Sun] is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race. Psalm 19

Gamboy is what happens to Violet when she [Violet] is looked at, not through — in other words, when an image is deified. When prince Courtesy confused an image for reality he lost the image and reality with it. The image was transmogrified into a monster and cursed its worshippers.

Did Gambetta ever exist as a separate individual?

And in less than thirty years they were saying that there never had been anybody called Aunt Gamboy at all.

Owen Barfield drops a hint every now and then that there wasn’t any Gamboy to begin with. She is simply Violet in her unsaved appearance. She is Violet who is no longer a reflection of divine beauty and grace — she has been confused for the source of beauty and grace.

Besides, there was a magic connection between the appearances of the two sisters established at their Christening by Miss Thomson — a local witch:

As long as you both live, you shall love each other more than all else in the world. As long as one of you is living, both shall be…

The image and reality behind it are magically connected. As long as the Sun endures I can still awaken to what it represents, see through the image and catch the glimpse of the divine presence. As long as one is living, both shall be… Lost images can be saved. But you need the Silver Trumpet to do that.

What is the Silver Trumpet? It is our ability to see through the images. The image is saved as long as it is taken for what it is — a shadow of the invisible world. Then, the image is good, holy, helpful, and sacred. It is an icon — a portal into the divine presence.
What is the difference between the first and the second Adam?

Prince Courtesy’s fault was set right by Prince Peerio — the “second Prince” and “the second Adam.” The “second Adam” in the Bible is the “second man” who comes to rectify the wrongs of the first man. He does what the first Adam failed to do. Incidentally, Prince Peerio’s journey starts with seeing an image — a portrait of princess Lily, Violet’s daughter. And he was so struck by her beauty that he decided to find her and convince her to marry him. He even got in a quarrel with his father, the king of Strenveig, over it.

It was this picture which had been the cause of their quarrel. A wealthy merchant of the kingdom, who, although he was a merchant, loved good painting, had bought it a week ago for a heavy heap of gold and presented it to the Prince; and Prince Peerio, the moment he saw it, had fallen in love, not with the picture, but with the Princess.

He fell in love — not with the picture but with the Princess! Peerio saw through the image and fell in love with the reality behind it. Even after he learned from the stable-boy that princess Lily was far from perfect, his love for her didn’t shake because he saw who she really was behind her appearance.

For nothing that the stable-boy had said had changed his love for her. He only longed more than ever to marry her and to give back to her her joy in life.

By seeing through the image and loving the reality it represented he undid the curse of unsaved appearances. And princess Lily was saved from her curse — the fear of toads that Aunt Gamboy instilled in her gentle soul through her dark arts.

When we see through the images, the world comes alive. Just blow the Silver Trumpet, and the river is no longer just H2O — lo and behold, it is the Music of the Ainur clad in matter, and Ulmo, enamored of its beauty, descends into the created realm to become the Lord of Waters.
Sunset at sea
Image from Pixabay

To show them the result of their actions, Illuvatar led them into the Void and spoke, “Behold your Music!”. The Ainur saw a Vision of what their song had created — “a World that was globed amid the Void… but was not of it.”

The wind is no longer “the horizontal motion of air caused by the pressure difference between two places.” It is the breath of the Spirit.

The Spirit breathes where it will, and you hear the voice thereof.

The Sun is no longer a ball of gas but the bridegroom coming out of his heavenly chamber.

And the queen is no longer Gamboy but Violet coming out of her grave and into the bright sunlight.

And still the Trumpet rang on, till the air about their ears felt as solid as water and shook as tempestuously. Her [Gamboy’s] features went on changing and sliding into one another, like clouds over the sky, moving and clearing until there, beside her husband, white-robed and laughing in the sunlight, stood none other than Queen Violet herself!

And the first thing the resurrected Queen says is:

Where is the Silver Trumpet?” she cried at once, as she awoke, and looking anxiously round her: “where is the Silver Trumpet?”

“Here, Your Majesty,” said Prince Peerio, walking up and handing it to her with a low reverence. She took it and gave it to King Courtesy.

“Guard it,” she said; “guard it in the future even at the cost of your life.”

Why? Because it is the gateway to Heaven.
What did the bird say to C.S. Lewis early in the year?
A bird on a branch
Image from Pixabay

On Sunday morning, September 20, 1931, C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Hugo Dyson walked together on Addison’s Walk in Oxford. They were busy discussing all kinds of theories when suddenly they were “interrupted by a rush of wind which came so suddenly on the still, warm evening and sent so many leaves pattering down that we thought it was raining. We all held our breath…”

Here’s what C.S. Lewis wrote about this “rush of wind” years later:

I heard in Addison’s Walk a bird sing clear:
This year the summer will come true. This year. This year.
Winds will not strip the blossom from the apple trees
This year, nor want of rain destroy the peas.
This year time’s nature will no more defeat you,
Nor all the promised moments in their passing cheat you.
This time they will not lead you round and back
To Autumn, one year older, by the well-worn track.
This year, this year, as all these flowers foretell,
We shall escape the circle and undo the spell.
Often deceived, yet open once again your heart,
Quick, quick, quick, quick! — the gates are drawn apart.

https://www.restandtrust.org/owen-bar...

[Denisa Dan · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 - Classic fairytale that starts really nice and has a happy ending and it’s well written but felt that many of the characters and moments were not explored enough.
Read it because I was curious about the writer which was a philosopher but didn’t get much wisdom out of it. Embrace your fears in order to overcome them. Or better said kiss them. 🙂

[katie risley · Rating 4 out of 5]

i have such a soft spot for beautiful children’s stories. this one didn’t always hit, but when it did, it DID.

[Phillip · Rating 5 out of 5]

Has a slow start but gets better as the story unwinds. I liked it by the time I finished it and look forward to seeing if it grows in my imagination the way the short works of Tolkien have done.

[Francisco Márquez · Rating 5 out of 5]

What amazes me about this work is that it is allegorical of complex human realities such as love, either toxic or selfless; fear, the kind that traps you into a existential and psychological cage; how manipulative can a relative be or political complot, all of that in a children's book. Because, yeah, children literature can often be that deep, 'Alice In Wonderland' shows that. Moreover, this is the very first work of fantasy published by an Inkling, Owen Barfield, who influenced the work of Lewis with 'Poetic Diction'. I wonder if someone here felt this Narnia vibe while reading this book.

[Allegra Goodman · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an extraordinary book--so funny and wise. A story about names and identity and death and twins and music and fear and harmony and discord. Two princesses are born and the wise old Mrs. Thompson names them Violetta and Gambetta . . . If possible, try to get the 1968 edition with unforgettable illustrations by Betty Beeby. That edition--hard to find these days--is the one I had as a child and includes a fold out map of the castle which is pictured as a huge pipe organ.

[Diane Kalen-Sukra · Rating 5 out of 5]

This first published fantasy from the Inklings writers is a thriller, disguised as a children's book. So many lessons on character transformation, challenges with living ones values, the terrible deceptive power of envy and ill will, and the redemptive power of love. The silver trumpet is a most powerful (transformational) instrument. Important lesson on what good leaders (Prince Peerio) do to the wicked, liars, deceivers (Aunt Gamboy).

[Billie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was excited to finally get my hands on a copy of this. While I really enjoyed it I found myself wishing that Barfield had tried his hand at the genre of fairy tale again, somewhat later in his career. With that said, this is a lovely book which genuinely adds to the genre without violating it at all. I would definitely recommend it for all lovers of fairy tale.

[Edwin Tait · Rating 4 out of 5]

A bit cutesy in the style of Victorian comic fairytales, but also very charming and at times brilliant and powerful. The description of depression near the end of the book really hit home. And of course since this is Barfield there's lots about polarity and the magical power of language and music and dance.

[ladydusk · Rating 4 out of 5]

As fairy tales go, this one is curious. A bit confusing, but fun nonetheless. I know Barfield was doing things here that I don't understand. Maybe someday.

The art in this edition is quite lovely.

[Emily · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reminds me of Eleanor Farjeon or A A Milne's fairy tales, with lots of description and quiet poking of fun at fairy tale tropes

[Ben · Rating 3 out of 5]

Amusing little fairy tale. Entertaining and enjoyable, if a bit flat in places. Surprising that Barfield never returned to this genre.

[Taylor · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a weird and delightful little fairy tale.

[Estera · Rating 5 out of 5]

What are you afraid of? Dance again in the light. Join again the Great Dance.

[Kevin V. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Delightful little fairytale. A little quirky in places, but in a way similar to MacDonald. Great themes explored and some good illustrations for preachers.

[Dave Maddock · Rating 2 out of 5]

The Owen Barfield estate has published the text of this story as a PDF on their website along with some photos of illustrations done for the various print editions. I read the PDF version. (If you want a print copy, the Eerdmans second edition illustrations look the prettiest by far.)

Having read a crapload of Inklings work including the lesser-known Charles Williams and Barfield himself--including History in English Words and Poetic Diction, I wanted to get this early Barfield work under my belt as well. I was curious to see what insight into the works of Tolkien and C.S. Lewis it might provide, given that The Silver Trumpet was the first children's fantasy written by an Inkling. In short: not much. (If you are looking for that kind of thing, Poetic Diction and The Place Of The Lion are required reading.)

While Barfield's ideas about the value of myth, imagination, and language were just as sophisticated as his friends, this work reads like juvenilia compared to theirs. This is not so surprising given that it was written very early in Barfield's life and career while the other two were more mature when they wrote Narnia and The Hobbit. The target audience for the latter two also seems older. Perhaps Barfield's later novel This Ever Diverse Pair would be a fairer and more fruitful comparison.

Something critically useful might be said about the silver trumpet as a metaphor for the kind of poiesis he describes in Poetic Diction, but in my opinion the execution is not striking enough to rise above the million examples you could find by pulling any children's book off the shelf at random.

Ultimately, this is a run of the mill fairy tale for kids around age six. There's nothing bad about that and I admit it is unfair to expect the book to be grander than it was ever intended to be. Then again, if it doesn't offer a meaty subtext to Inklings fans then there is little reason to read it at all since such stories for kids are a dime a dozen.

[Ben McFarland · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a fine read-aloud with the kids, but like Owen Barfield's later philosophy, it's entirely quirkly. Oddly paced and with some anachronistic characterizations that remind you that it's almost a century old now, it nonetheless has a bit of charm, novel characters that are both stock and not at the same time, and enough timeless fairy-tale detail to draw you in. It's fun to note the frequent references to dancing if you know that Barfield was part of a dance troupe, of all things. The story hints at depth but I don't think there's that much there. There's also a few shocking deaths partway through the story, which might disturb some children, but I thought it added a bit of heft to the feeling, and some of it is made right in the end. I'm not sure what to think of this, but it surprised me and kept me interested in a unique way -- much like Barfield's philosophy. Hard to find but worth waiting for from library loan.

[Adam · Rating 3 out of 5]

This early work, first published by the author at age 27, will be of interest mainly to Barfield enthusiasts. The story bears the marks, favorably, of a writer acquainted with the psychological interpretation of fairy tales. In general, the writing is very solid, and yet, lengthy as it is, there simply isn’t enough fantastical "color" to the characters and events to give the story much distinction. Hence, The Silver Trumpet is readable fare--a childrens lit. artifact of simpler times--but a book worth recommending mainly to those with the patience and dedication to mine the story for subtext. (Still, I'll admit that I've read it twice!)

[Stephen · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of my kids favorite stories... somewhere in between a picture book and a chapter book in length. Rootity tootity toot.
I probably read this out loud 15 times..........

[Steve Vetsch · Rating 4 out of 5]

a great story in the tradition of the master fairy tales

[Sophie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fantastic fairytale. Good versus evil, a little magic, and some great illustrations!