Bittercon: "Forgotten Treasures"

[intertext]

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

[penmage.livejournal.com]

I've got two. One is The Moorchild by Eloise McGraw, in which Saaski, a changeling child, struggles to understand her nature as she grows up in a medieval Scottish village. It's gorgeous and heartbreaking, and speaks to anyone who has ever felt different.

The other is The Gammage Cup, by Carol Kendall. I loved this book as a kid; as an adult, it is not quite as brilliant as it used to be, but it is still a wonderful read. It's often silly, and sometimes preachy (about being yourself and the dangers of conformity) but mostly it's clever and fun and smart, and the ending still makes me cry, every single damn time I read it.

[intertext.livejournal.com]

Oh yes, both of those are great books. I agree that The Gammage Cup doesn't stand the test of time quite as well, but I love the Eric Blegvad illustrations :)

[elianarus.livejournal.com]

I was amazed to discover this year (via a dear friend) that there is a third book in this series: The Firelings....

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

I loved The Moorchild. It made the fairy world so believeable, so real. And the interaction between Saaski and her human parents is just--as you say--heartbreaking. They love her for who she is, in their way, even as they're wishing for a more human-like daughter. And her sense of out-of-placeness in *both* places is so real and so sad, and the way she struggles on is nothing short of heroic. I was glad she found a friend in the end.