#redwall reading

Okay, so I know Redwall (the first book) contains many traces of the human world—Cluny’s rumoured Portuguese heritage, for example, or Abbot Mortimer’s acquaintance, the town dog. But this line is the best. Because this is The Monarch of the Glen:

Painted in 1851 by Sir Edwin Landseer.

And “the stag at eve” is from Sir Walter Scott’s famous 1810 poem, The Lady of the Lake.

I am the Teller of Tales,

Gaze into the fire with me,

For I know of the Badger Lords,

And their mountain, by the sea.

'Tis of a fearsome warrior,

Full of fate and destiny,

Who followed dreams, along strange paths,

Unknown to such as we.

This Badger Lord was fearless,

As all who followed him knew,

And the haremaid he befriended,

Why, she was as young as you!

But no less bold or courageous,

Full of valor and strong of heart,

Aye, young 'uns like you, good and true,

May stand to take their part.

So here is my story, may it bring,

Some smiles, and a tear or two,

It happened, once upon a time,

Far away, and long ago.

Outside the night wind keens and wails,

Come listen to me, the Teller of Tales.

I went off to my bed on one dark winter’s night, Where the ground was all snowy and covered up white, And snug in my blanket I started to dream That the ice had all melted away from the stream. Oooh! Plip plop, hear the water drop, And the larks take wing as the buds go pop! And the sun do shine as the birds do sing, “Throw open wide the gates of Spring!”

Then I dreamt that I felt all the earth come awake, And the sky was as blue as a clear mountain lake, And through that old dream a good sound ringing true, ‘Twas the heralding song of a happy cuckoo. Ooooh! Plip plop, hear the water drop, And the larks take wing as the buds go pop! And the sun do shine as the birds do sing, “Throw open wide the gates of spring!”

Fol de rol de lair oh lair oh, Hail the newborn day; Spring has made the weather fair, oh, Winter’s gone away!

Old stories told by travellers; Great songs that bards have sung Of Mossflower summers, faded, gone, When Redwall’s stones were young. Great Hall fires on winter nights; The legends—who remembers?— Battles, banquets, comrades, quests, Recalled midst glowing embers. Draw close now, little woodlander, Take this to sleep with you: My tale of dusty, far-off times When warrior hearts were true. Then store it in your memory And be the sage who says To young ones in the years to come, “Ah yes, those were the days.”

The young must grow old, Whilst old ones grow older,  And cowards will shrink, As the bold grow bolder. Courage may blossom in quiet hearts, For who can tell where bravery starts? Truth is a song, oft lying unsung, Some mother bird, protecting her young, Those who lay down their lives for friends,  The echo rolls onward, it seldom ends.  Who never turned and ran, but stayed?  This is a warrior born, not made! Living in peace, aye many a season, Calm in life and sound in reason, ’Til evil arrives, a wicked horde, Driving a warrior to pick up his sword, The challenger rings then, straight and fair, Justice is with us, beware. Beware!

- The opening poemmmmm!

- Okay and also that opening DESCRIPTION. You can’t tell me that isn’t amazing writing.

- Lord Stonepaw & Old Fleetscut make me so… bittersweetly sad. As Fleetscut said, « every creature grows old, » yet there’s something tragic in the decline as well. Our mortality is so frail!

- Dotti is one of my favourite Redwall characters just because she’s absolutely hilarious without meaning to be. Her confidence is amusing instead of arrogant, and her relationship with Brocktree is adorable.

- Honorable mention of THE AMAZING FOOD.

- The Grand Fragorl is actually a very intriguing personage. I always think she’s the main villain when I start the story, and I kinda wish she was so you’d see more of her regal, distant attitude. The villains are always so crazed in Redwall. I wish there were a few more who were just icy and terrifyingly rational.

- Did I mention how hilarious Dotti is?

- For some reason the dark, ruined splendour and intense ritual of the villains is very interesting.

- Just noticed Ungatt Trunn’s the brother of Verdauga, the father of Tsarina, who fought Marin the Warrior in Mossflower!

- I haven’t read many books that can transport you into a “too beautiful to be true” setting like Noonvale. Anne of Green Gables is the only equivalent. I don’t know how he does it because the descriptions are so cliché or basic, yet somehow you FEEL the peace and love and perfection…

- Felldoh. Oh my heart, Felldoh. He breaks me every time 😭 I want so much more for him, yet somehow he feels destined to his story. He’s such a great guy, really, when he isn’t consumed with justice and protection. I love him in juxtaposition to Martin. Both are warriors, both hate Badrang and intend to free the world from him, yet Martin has a larger nature that allows him to let go briefly, while Felldoh is obsessed. Even if Felldoh went with Martin & Rose to Noonvale he’d still be obsessed. I love Brome’s wise words about paths of vengeance, but also Felldoh’s & Martin’s wisdom in insisting we can’t just ignore evil and run from it but destroy it or not only will it hurt others as it hurt us, it will spread like a cancer.

- Martin, by the way, is something else. I don’t know why I love him so much but he’s amazing. Really. Such a fascinating, admirable character. I see why he’s the guardian of Redwall.

- I love the talk about bravery between Felldoh & Brome, about how not everyone can kill, and it’s good to be innocent, and being a healer is just as important and brave.

- Also…. poor little Juniper who gave his life… 💔 And I love Ballaw. He’s not as amusing as most hares but he’s good and noble and his words about stages and curtains fit things so WELL. And I have to mention Keyla, who’s absolutely amazing himself!!

- The last few pages are terribly beautiful. I still don’t understand why SHE had to die… really. I know the plot demands it in a way, but… why? She can’t really be… she’s too vibrant to just cease. But oh, Martin, my heart hurts for you so much. And his words about memories… ♥️

- There’s things and parts in the Redwall books that are silly and cliché and poorly written, and remind me he wrote these for kids. Then there’s some supremely awful and beautiful bits that remind me why I adore these books and why Martin is my favourite of them all…

- and the Treehouse TV show is so good for this book ♥️