Bittercon: "Forgotten Treasures"

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What I think of as the "Harry Potter Effect" - a renewed interest in YA or children's fantasy - has resulted in the welcome recent republication of authors who had been well-known in certain circles, like DWJ, or well-known from the past, like Edward Eager. It has also seen the reprinting of some rather more obscure but equally deserving works, like A String in the Harp by Nancy Bond or Elizabeth Marie Pope's The Perilous Gard. I've been thinking for a while of beginning a series of posts on old forgotten treasures from my own collection - not necessarily SF or fantasy, but books I loved that I wondered if anyone else had heard of, that I think deserve a bigger audience and potential reprinting. So, I thought I'd launch that series here, and invite others on my flist or from the bigger bittercon community, to link comments to posts about their own forgotten but deserving treasures.

My first oldy but goody is Ellen Kindt McKenzie's
Drujienna's Harp, which begins on a day in an unnamed city in what seems to be our world - indeed I've always assumed it was San Franciso. It is uncharacteristically hot, and the sky is a strange translucent pink. Tha and her brother Duncan visit a curio shop and pick up a bottle that the shop-owner warns them has a curse on it. They are instantly transported to another world.

Of relevance to one of sartorias's panel topics on world building, this is one of the most distinct and well developed worlds I remember encountering in children's fantasy. It has almost a quality of the surreal, with its pink sky, killing winds, geographic areas spreading out in concentric circles from a mysterious and deadly mound in the center. It is also unusual in children's fantasy for its bleak picture of political totalitarianism. The inhabitants are kept in a kind of controlled state of unknowing; asking too many questions is punishable by imprisonment or death. Yet there are mysterious Histories and a Prophecy, suppressed but not forgotten, that hint of "two" who will come and put the world right - or destroy it. This book deals with many extremely serious and important themes: ignorance, real or feigned, the importance not so much of physical courage but of moral convictions. Tha is a strong and believable heroine and there is a cast of well-drawn supporting characters, from the morose Eshone and even more grim Acheron to the delightful "Know-nothing" Zacapoos.

Like Victoria Walker's equally obscure but not entirely forgotten work, The Winter of Enchantment, this fascinating novel is now listed on ABE with absurdly high prices. I used to borrow it time and again from the library, and managed to snag a copy a few years ago at a less than astronomical price, and I treasure it. Just writing about it now makes me think I should reread it again - I suspect it will not have lost its magic.

So now it's your turn! How many of you have read any of the books I mention, especially this one? What are your own forgotten treasures? And don't forget to write a review of your favourite and link it here.

Comments

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I loved Mistress Masham's Repose, and, interestingly enough, my friend lidocafe just bought it for her daughter because it's been reissued in a wonderful New York Times (? I think) series of classic children's books. Another in that series is another wonderful forgotten treasure: The Wind on the Moon, by Eric Linklater.

And speaking of Tam Lin - my still-favourite book on THAT topic is Catherine Storr's Thursday - another obscure but wonderful book.

[elianarus.livejournal.com]

The New York Review, I think.

We first encountered them when I discovered that the Jenny and the Cat club books had been reissued (shouts of ecstasy from my younger kids). In browsing their listings (collection? hmmm.. group of books they've reissued?) we discovered 'The Magic Pudding' which quickly became a new favorite with my younger four. No brilliant plotting, and certainly no character development... but the pace and diction were right on and the zany premise delighted the kids. (Our kids range from 6 to 14, it was the 10 and under crowd which fell for this book.)

My favorite Tam Lin retelling is Pamela Dean's... though I wonder if I would have loved it as much if I'd first encountered it in my late twenties rather than at 18.

I can't completely separate a book from the person I was and the way I saw it when I first read it.

That's not completely true. I read Wuthering Heights at 12 or so and when I read it again a decade or so later, the experience was so different it was as if I'd read a different book.

But for most books the shadow of my former self hovers over the page, or echoes in my inner ear as I read. Generally this is a gift. The disbelieving wonder from Children of Green Knowe, the grief which left me shaken for weeks when Thorin died, the enchantment of Fog Magic, the homey virtues in Eight Cousins, and the sense of homecoming in All of a Kind Family are all still there when I open the books despite the greater distance I now have from the books I read. (In some ways this is good. I could not cope with most modern fiction until I was in my later twenties; I took it all too much to heart.)

This thread has reminded me of old favorites I still need to purchase... how could I have neglected to get Tatsinda or MM's repose for my kids? Eeek...