George MacDonald Books

After the first 78 pages which describe a cricket match (apparently it's a British game and not a real sport like American Football) the book gets back on track and ends up being one of the better Flashman's which takes him from Singapore to the wilds of Burneo and all the way to Madagascar. Once it actually gets going between the running battles with pirates and Flashy's capture and use as a stud for an African Queen you will not want to put the book down. As always the attention to historical detail is excellent.

Overall-Highly Recommended

Flashman rides again, this time to the rescue of his lady, the beloved and empty headed Elspeth, who has been stolen away by a pirate. Lots of fun is had along the way, including an early 19th Century cricket match where our Harry shines, battles galour (some in the company of the famous pirate hunter Rupert Brooke), and lovely females, dangerous to be sure, but all buxom and bonaire. How many marriages can stand this strain and still endure?

Flashman's Lady
That I give Flashman's Lady only four stars is misleading as I am judging it against other books in the Flashman series and not on an absolute scale where it would deservedly receive a full five. Flashman's Lady is George Macdonald Fraser's sixth book in the series, but third chronologically as it fills in gaps from 1842 to 1846.

Flashman's Lady includes three tales all centering to some degree around his beloved wife Elspeth (don't worry, that doesn't keep Flashy from straying). Flash first encounters Tom Brown in London, which leads to Flash's involvement in cricket matches involving some of the great names of the sport (or so I am informed). Elspeth attracts unwanted but not unwonted male attention (unwanted by Flash anyway) that leads to a cruise to Singapore where Elspeth is kidnapped. Flash follows the trail to Borneo with the great pirate fighter James Brooke, the White Raja of Sarawak. Harrowing battles on the Batang Lupar River leave Harry and Elspeth captive on board ship in the Indian Ocean. Harry `escapes' into slavery and the not-so-tender mercies of Queen Ranavalona of Madagascar. The reader is treated to the oddities and savagery of that island; a land that is outwardly European-influenced, but Ranavalona has kicked out all whites. Ranavalona's portrayal is doubtless distorted by Harry's pro-imperial Victorian views, but it makes for fascinating fun. (Elspeth also lands there, but is mostly out of sight.)

The book was edited by one of Elspeth's sisters, who kindly excised the swear words, but left in the blood and gore, all the naughty bits. It also contains brief notes from Elspeth's own journal.

Flashman's Lady will not disappoint fans of Flashman (and if you have not read it, then go buy the original Flashman: A Novel (Flashman)) and some will argue it's the best in the series. In my estimation, the book slips to four stars on the Flashman Scale only because adding the Madagascar adventure seems contrived. Ending the book with the adventures in Borneo would have been tidier. One speculates that Fraser wanted to write a tale involving Ranavalona, but lacked enough material for a full book. Too much Flashman, not much of a beef, is it? Let's hope the rumor that Fraser is working on another Flashman book proves true.

The reader should also try out Fraser's McAuslan stories (McAuslan in the Rough or The General Danced at Dawn) for a whimsical look at post-war life in a World War Two regiment of Scottish Highlanders.

Note: Flashman's Lady ends with Flash being summoned to India where he gets thoroughly mixed up in the first Anglo-Sikh war, a story that is told in Flashman and the Mountain of Light (Flashman), the ninth book published in the series.

This one is my favourite, partly because of the snippets of long-forgotten Asian history and partly because the story's completely bonkers. We start in a central London watering hole with Flashy being brow-beaten into playing cricket by an old school bore. Then we're at Lord's, batting and bowling against the nation's finest. Along comes a swarthy Oxford type called Suleman who's on the hunt for Flashy's Elspeth, and before you know what's what we're boffing Lady What's-her-name and on a slow boat to Singapore to avoid the London bookies. Blink and you'll miss Flashy getting mugged by knife-wielding triads and Elspeth getting kidnapped by Suleman, who turns out to be an infamous pirate (but with Oxford manners). Then we're off to Borneo with the Royal Navy, fighting pirates and fornicating with their locals and eventually Flashy's reunited with Elspeth after months of enforced servicing of Queen Ranavalona in Madagascar, that nookie-loving despot who ruled by boiling her opponents and force-feeding them chicken bones and poison. Saved by the French Navy after their own one left them to rot, Flashy and Elspeth live to ride again, Flashy with all and sundry, and Elspeth with all of Flashy's mates. Fabulous. Not a moral in sight. 5 Stars.

Harry Flashman - despicable poltroon or modest unreliable narrator, depending on your literary whim - shows himself eclipsed by a bolder rogue and a genuine hero in the first half of this too-long novel. The bolder rogue kidnaps Harry's wife, and the genuine hero, the authentic White Rajah of Sarawak, rescues her... almost.

By far the most entertaining portion of this sixth Flashman novel is the first quarter, which features a hilarious account of cricket as played in Jolly Old England in the middle of the 19th C. Harry, naturally, is a cricket phenom, whose skill is exceeded only by his skullduggery. Then Harry find himself once more en route to hellish adventures in the colonies. His travelogue description of Singapore is worth the price of a ticket there, and in Singapore, he encounters James Brooke, the White Rajah, the Hotspur character who overshadows him for another quarter of the text.

The second half of the book is effectively another novel, one that seems thin and anticlimactic after the first. Harry gets himself imprisoned in the clutches of a madwoman-queen. Finally he escapes. Ho hum. But another side of our Flashman is revealed; he actually risks his skin to save his addlepated little wifey. How will we ever be certain again that he's as much of a coward as he boasts?

Author GM Fraser introduces an innovation in this volume; part of the story is told by Mrs. Flashman, in the form of pages from her diary. She's not the narrator her husband is.

Except for the cricket chapters, this is a less amusing Flash than the others I've read. If you're plowing your way through the life story of England's most meretricious hero, you have every right to skip an episode now and then.

The more I think about it tonight, the more uncomfortable I find myself getting over the question of whether one should laugh or vomit at Harry's racism and sexism. I begin to think I'm obliged to do both, or else give the series up.

A great memoir, a different view of WWII, to all those who think Steven Speiberg told the story of the war, Read this

I had frist read the Authors novels about that cad Flashman & was immediately hooked on his great writing skills and historical research. (I just wish that I could write 1/10 as well as he.)
Then I have discovered this gem of a book about his time in the 14th Army fighting the Japanese in Burma during War Two as a young enlisted man. It is just marvelous in that it gives one the feeling of the grit, heat, dirt and loss of war without drowning one in self pity while being in the Border Regiment.
This book is one of the best war story of a British Tommy that I have ever read. The book is well worth the time and coin!

If you wish to understand the common British soldier in World War II, his virtues and his vices, this book is essential. In spare prose the author, a celebrated novelist, recalls his service in Burma as an enlisted man in the British Army. As he conjures up his long ago comrades, their marches, the food they ate, their fights with the enemy and each other, the reader gains much needed insight into a world that is rapidly slipping from living memory. A fitting tribute to the tough British "Tommies" who did more than their share in rescuing the world from the evil of the Axis in World War II. Funny, exciting, moving, this is a book that I predict will join the ranks of other classic military memoirs such as Graves' Good-bye To All That. For an added treat read this book in tandem with Field Marshal Slim's memoir Defeat Into Victory.

George MacDonald Fraser, creator of the Flashman series takes on not 19th Century history, but rather himself this time out. Here, in just over 200 pages, he paints a highly evocative picture of the British Tommy slugging his way through Burma and to victory in 1945. His memory he admits, has its gaps. He recalls meeting General Slim, the famed commander of the 14th Army, but cannot recall the day. He can't remember what he was doing on V-J day. But he recalls details, but not the dates of them; a 15 inch centipede in his tent, when his canoe floundered on the Sittang, when Nine section captured its first Japanese POW, he definitely remembers a section member taking the man's watch.
These are probably fallible memories, but it's their honesty that makes Fraser human, and it's what makes this memoir worth reading.

Fraser has captured the enlisted man's war in Burma for all time. It would be nice to see an 8th Army veteran recall the Desert War.

Fraser also like Audie Murphy's "To Hell and Back" uses a great deal of dialogue in catching the eccentrities of the Cumbrian borderers of his section. He changes their names (Murphy did too) something common in war memoirs. However, American readers might stumble over what the men are saying, but while GMF admits that it's not an exact reconstruction of what was spoken, "most of it {the dialogue) obviously is not...it is entirely faithful in gist, subject and style." This is of course, true, but one feels that GMF caught the higher truth of what life was like and as it was lived in the British Army in Burma. The eminent historian John Keegan rates "Quartered Safe Out Here" better than Manchester's "Goodbye Darkness" and E.B. Sledge's "With the Old Breed," an opinion I do not necessarily share, but I do admire this book tremendously.

This is a great introduction to the war in Burma and a wonderful glimpse into life in the British Army in World War II.

It's been years since I first read "Quartered Safe Out Here" by the creator of Harry Paget Flashman, VC. (And I won't rehash everything the previous reviewers have written.) Having read and reread all of the Flashman novels before picking it up, and being a card carrying Flashmaniac myself, I was very anxious to know more about GMF. This book certainly didn't disappoint me. After I had finished it, though, I wanted to find out more. I didn't realize I'd have to wait until December 2002 to finally read the next chapter in the life of GMF in "The Light's On At Signpost" (which I found at amazon.com.uk for 20.13GBP). The two books are quite different, except for Fraser's Anti-PC rants, the one tells the story of a young GMF serving in WWII and the other an older, but still funny, GMF telling tales of his years writing movie scripts in Hollywood and the famous and not-so-famous people he worked with during those years. At the end of "The Light's On At Signpost," he briefly writes more about his family, his schooling in Scotland, and how he became a writer. GMF is almost 78 now (He was born on April 2, 1925.) and I only hope he will live long and write more wonderfully funny books.

I would have to say that C.S.Lewis's remark--that he has never read anyone who is more continually close to the Spirit--fits the author quite well. MacDonald eloquently combines intellectual thought and creativity with the innocence of prayer, showing that both are able to be used together in the pursuit to intimacy with God.

This book has been a great help in my meditations. I would recommend it to anyone who desires to have a greater connectedness with the Spirit. The only downfall is the 200 year span in English terminology. If one can get past the "doths" and "thees" then this book will be sure to be a favorite in your collection.

George MacDonald is brilliant.
But I think there might be a typo or two in this publication of his work.

Imagine Psalms minus the drama and soul-searching quandries. But in rhyming verse. I'm not saying the book is bad. It may be that my soul just isn't old enough to see the value here. Each entry is very short. If you're the sort of person who can comtemplate a single line of poetry, you may get a lot out of this. If you're not, you can flip through this book in a single afternoon (but you probably won't). Maybe I'll appreciate this work later in life. Maybe not.

I really like his book of "Unspoken Sermons", though.

Seemingly endless thoughts of God drift through the mind of this brilliant man of faith. An awesome tool as a daily devotional, but good luck...once opened, it's easy to devour Macdonald's writings all at once. His Sonnet's spring to life and speak directly to the heart. Not in a wishy washy, overly heady, sort of way but in simply truths pointed to the core of Christian life.

Origionally, I was given this book in 1979; it is profound and awe inspiring in the faith provoking poetry that George Macdonald wrote - one 7 line poem/meditation for each day of the year.

I boughtt this new book as a gift. However this edition is horrible in that it appears to have been pasted together, daily poems may be numbered at the bottom of one page and begin on the next. Or the day's poem may be split between one page and the next. Several were mostly gibberish. Also there is no introduction, library of congress number or date of publication (or origional publication)to this edition.

It is a mess !

The father of fantasy scores big in this sequel to the "The Princess and the Goblin." A must for all fantasy and fairy tale fans. Before Tolkien and Lewis there was Macdonald.

THIS BOOK IS AWESOME!!! I'M 13 AND I LOVE THIS BOOK!!! I RECCOMEND IT TO EVERYONE WHO LIKES C.S. LEWIS OR SIMILAR AUTHORS. READ IT!!!!!!!!

"The Princess and the Goblin" is one of the gems of children's literature, which deserves to sit on any bookshelf. The same can not be said of its sequel "The Princess and Curdie", which differs so much in tone and content from the original, that it is sometimes difficult to remember it is in fact a sequel to the dreamy, beautiful "The Princess and the Goblin". Don't get me wrong, I love George MacDonald's wonderful books, and although there are some nuggets of wisdom scattered throughout the book and Irene's grandmother is as fascinating as ever (as well as being one of the few feminine representations of Christian mysticism in children's literature) this particular MacDonald novel left me a little cold.

It begins extremely well: after the cataclysmic events at the conclusion of the previous book, the Princess Irene and her father have departed the ruined manor house for her father's castle in the kingdom's capital Gwyntystorm. Curdie and his parents have remained on the mountainside, continuing their humble existence as miners. But Irene's magical great-great-great grandmother still has plans for the young miner, and after he kills one of her pigeons he remorsefully seek her out in order to atone for his crimes. This is precisely what the goddess-like figure of the grandmother hoped for, and within a few chapters she has Curdie all set to go on a quest of his own.

But like any good fairy-godmother figure, she equips him with some magical gifts before he goes: the first is the ability to recognise a person's inner being simply by shaking their hands (given via her magical fire-roses). The second is a bizarre looking creature named Lina that will accompany him on his journey. His destination is Gwyntystorm, to the Princess and the King, and the trouble that awaits him there. On the way he encounters several strange creatures; a ragtag much of indescribable animals (which serve a purpose later in the story) and a flock of sinister white birds (which don't, and whose presence in the story is a bit of a mystery). Finally he reaches Gwyntystorm only to find the place is over-run with corruption and a sinister plot against the King.

However, there are several things that bothered me throughout the course of the story. First of all is the plot line of the incapacitated king being secretly manipulated by his ministers; even in MacDonald's day this was a tired old story that's been done to death in everything from ancient myth to Arthurian folklore to Lord of the Rings.

Secondly is the myriad of plot devices that he brings into the story only to completely ignore later on. This includes the afore-mentioned white birds, but this is a minor occasion that is easily forgotten. More crucial is the character of Lina and the other creatures who are hinted to be transformed humans atoning for their sins; but their development never goes past this hint into something deeper.

Third is the treatment with which MacDonald handles many of his characters. On the course of the journey Curdie meets with hardly any decent or worthy people. With the exception of Derba and her young granddaughter, the entire world seems to be made up of rude, greedy, loathsome individuals who throw rocks, call names, set dogs on travellers and other heinous things. Of course, this may be truer to life than some would like to admit, but the inclusion of so many horrible people, both in the palace and in the streets is wearying after a while. It is especially painful when MacDonald gets to the climax of the story, when all the wrong-doers are inevitably punished for their sins. Perhaps some readers will get a sense of self-righteous pleasure out of the pain MacDonald places upon them, but for me it felt as though an almost sadistic pleasure was taken in terrifying and destroying these people: a man whose nose is bitten all the way through, women and children are scared witless, a man's finger is bitten off, and MacDonald's own words: "they were smeared with rancid dripping, their faces were rubbed in maggots." My ideas of Christianity and its meanings are based around redemption, forgiveness and grace; yet I found very little of such things here. All the things I have described are found within the chapter: "Vengeance" and continues in "More Vengeance." Didn't God say: "Vengeance is mine?" Isn't wrath one of the seven deadly sins?

Finally the King himself goes out, but by this stage I had to wonder: is there anyone left in his city to govern? By making the city of Gwyntystorm such a vile place I found no pleasure in the characters' successful defence of it, and the final page of the book that recounts the ultimate fate of the city is utterly unappealing.

I hate writing bad reviews, especially when they disagree with other Amazon.com reviewers whose opinions I often agree with and whose advice I take (that's you E. A. Solinas!), but I really didn't like "The Princess and Curdie." Don't let this put you off other George MacDonald books, especially "The Princess and the Goblin" but I recommend you give this one a miss.

George MacDonald once again delivers a magical book, filled with adventure and meaning, a delight to read. In this book, MacDoanld shows belief in the extraordinary. Muiltiple times, the great-great-Grandmother does something which requires action which seems to go against worldly reason. MacDonald, I think, is showing that we do not do the will of God in SPITE of reason, but BECAUSE of it. At one point, the Grandmother commands Curdie to plunge his hands into her fire, which Curdie does at once. At first glance, it appears that this is done in spite of reason, for who finds it reasonable to burn themselves? On the second glance, perhaps, we see that it is done, not in a lapse into an irrational leap of faith, but becaue Curdie has good REASON to beleive that the Grandmother knows what is best. In the same way, when God wants us to do something which seems rediculous to worldly reason, it look to the world as if we have abandoned reason and take a leap of faith. Just as in Curdie's case, this is incorrect. We do the will of God, not irrationally, but because we have good reason to believe that God knows what is best, and will keep His promises.

I was a little dissapointed with this book, however, because it somehow does not keep the spirit of the first. The Princess and the Goblin was a tale of innocence, wheras the innocence is lost in this tale. The plotline also seemed less deep, though it was still good. Do not mistake me, this is an very good book, but it is not quite as good as The Princess and the Goblin, which was a masterpiece. Of course, once cannot be expected to turn out masterpieces on a regular basis, indeed, one in a lifetime is quite an achievement in itself.

I love religious themes in children's literature, but The Princess and Curdie got too preachy for me. I really disliked the resolution with its Bosch-like vision of the torments experienced by sinners--it had that feeling of titallation. And the ending? How depressing and slapped on it seems! There's plenty of other fantastical, well-written literature that wrestles with moral dilemmas. I won't be including this in my library of children's books.

George MacDonald has quickly become one of my favorite authors with this collection of work here. I had already read The Golden Key and enjoyed it, and wondered if his other works were similar. I was not disappointed.

The only negative thing I can say about these stories is The Light Princess slows down a bit in the middle, and The Wise Woman starts off kinda slow. Everything else is top notch. Sure, someone could argue that The Shadows is as inconclusive as a story gets, but you know; that really didn't bother me. Anyway, MacDonald has an argument for the existence of inconclusive stories at the end of The Wise Woman for folks who want to make something of it.

Now for a brief synopsis of each story that's contained. Most of these stories are taken from some of MacDonald's full novels:

The Fantastic Imagination Essay is quite amusing, particularly when it discusses how you can ruin a fairy tale completely by simply inserting a gentleman with a cockney accent. I'd like to try that some time.

The Light Princess isn't a story about a girl who gives out magical glowing light. It's about a princess who's so light in weight that she floats. This misinterpretation of the title actually did disappoint me, and that's probably the reason I thought the story was a little slow in the middle. But I enjoyed what was there, even if it wasn't the best demonstration of MacDonald's wild imagination.

The Shadows is a downright creepy story for the first few pages, and then the narrator takes us into the church of the shadows, where the shadows simply tell random stories, most of them fairly light-hearted. A boy thinks that shadows are ghosts that got all black from getting stuck in a chimney. Pretty logical for a kid if you think about it.

The Giant's Heart is the most violent story out of the bunch. Some evil giant keeps his heart in a bird's nest for some inexplicable reason. Maybe the story explains why, but the reason still remains inexplicable. Kids ride on top of spiders, and you pretty much get a good feel for George MacDonald's writing style here.

Cross Purposes is probably my favorite story in this entire collection. It's so wild I forget the plot. Environments come and go through sudden changes, and vanishings, and what-not. It's like being in a dreamworld. I think it's about a princess and a goblin who bring two kids together, and the kids grow from hating each other to loving each other. This is not the same story as The Princess and The Goblin by George MacDonald, because I believe The Princess and The Goblin is a much longer story, although I haven't yet read it.

A friend of mine told me he thought The Golden Key is insane, and it is. It's much like Cross Purposes, where the environment's changing all over the place. We see two kids who appear to be walking for some reason, and they talk to a parrot fish with an owl's head that cooks itself, and they grow really old, and they walk up a rainbow like it's a giant staircase. Yep.

Little Daylight is a great concept. A girl is cursed by a witch causing her to always falls asleep before the sun comes out, and stay asleep until after moonrise so that she never sees the sun. Worse yet, when the moon's full she's in perfect health, but when it's a half moon or less she turns into an old wrinkled woman even though she's no more than seventeen.

Nanny's Dream and Diamond's dream tell us about off the wall things like night skies inside of a house when it's daylight outside the house, and what it's like to live in the moon with an old man who demands that the moon's windows be washed. Okay, then.

The Carosyn is much again a shining work of MacDonald's imagination like Cross Purposes and The Golden Key. This one has a little more of a plot though, and is easier to understand. A kid digs a canal through his house. Then a bunch of fairies sail down the canal and thank him. He sees them with a girl they kidnapped, and asks how she can be freed. They answer that when he brings them the drink called The Carosyn that the girl can be freed. Unfortunately no one knows what the heck The Carosyn is, not even the fairies, so naturally matters get complicated. Thankfully, visits to old blind women with hens and goblin blacksmiths seem to guide the way.

The Wise Woman is without question the most pedagological of the stories if that's even a word. It emphasises the importance of being good and not throwing temper tantrums over and over again. Thankfully a bunch of weird stuff happens, and visions come and go to keep things interesting. The highlight of the story is the deeply disturbing vision of the second failure of the princess. Don't get into fights on boats is all I'm going to say.

The History of Photogen and Nycteris is pretty neat. It's similar to Little Daylight. Photogen is raised to only see the sun and Nycteris is raised to only see the dark. Photogen seems like such a strong lad and Nycteris seems like such a sweet girl. In the midst of it all there's a lady with a wolf in her mind - literally, it seems. This story contains (like all of MacDonald's stories contain) a great descriptive analogy. Photogen in his fear of night calls the the moon the ghost of a dead sun.

Although the brief introductions of certain sections of the works inform us that the last three stories are much darker than the rest, I wouldn't agree with that at all. All of the stories have bits of humor, and bits of disturbing darkness. That's what makes them so wonderful.

I'm starting to think that although Andre Breton is credited with being the first actual surrealist, George MacDonald was in fact a surrealist perhaps half a century before. I've read many fairy tales by many authors but none of them have quite the randomness of MacDonald, except maybe Alice's Adventures in Wonderland which had to be at least somewhat inspired by MacDonald's work. This man is inspirational and I'd highly recommend his work to anybody, young or old.

One final note:
I have no idea what the cover art is supposed to represent. In fact, I'm not sure if it's from any of the stories in this collection. It appears to be some elderly fellow approaching a giant gargoyle. I don't recall a scene like this at all, although if I stretch my imagination a bit and pretend the old man is a kid I suppose it COULD be associatied with The Giant's Heart.

Only MacDonald has visited Fairyland and has come back giggling. Ought to be on every bookshelf that contains what is beautiful.

This book gives a great perspective into fairy tales and how they were told during the eighteen hundreds. It is a fun, scary, spriritual reflection of that age.

This is a delightful book -- the first by MacDonald that I have read. The reading of these short fairy tales prompted me to order 3 of his longer stories as well.

I was disappointed because I thought I was getting fairy tales edited by MacDonald. Instead, this is a compilation of other works which I already had like Northwind, Light Princess, Golden Key etc. If you don't have these already, this edition will probably be a great source for them.

This fairy tale by George MacDonald is about a charming, but bewitched Princess, a Prince in disguise, some nice fairies, and one very bad one. It is easy to like the main characters. Children will enjoy the fact that the adults are rather foolish and even the bad witch is not really scary. This is a nice story for parents to read to young children and then discuss behaviors and conduct.

Richard Pendleton

This review will only cover the basics:
I have loved this story since I was a child. Still, this edition is not quite what I remember.

1) This edition does not feature illustrations by Maurice Sendak. Instead, it features a few (about 4) colored etching-type illustrations by Arthur Hughes.

2) The cover page says "unabridged". As I do not have the one I read as a child, I cannot say this is false, but I remember it to be a full-size novel. This edition is about the size of a pocket calculator: 3"X4.5". The font size is about a 10. Yet, each chapter is only a few pages long and the total page count is 131.

This edition claims to be unabridged from MacDonald's 1867 edition of the story included in a collection of fairy tales. As fairly tale collections are frequently abridged stories, I wonder if this edition is claiming to be unabridged from an edition that itself was shortened.

I purchased this copy cheap, knowing there must be a reason for it. Therefore, I was not disappointed. Still, I have now also purchased the edition with Sendak as illustrator.

For a pocket book, I find this to be very nice. Still, if you are unfamiliar with the story, I would recommend a different edition.

Once I heard about The Light Princess, I ordered it because I buy everything by Robin McKinley, and I have a soft spot for George MacDonald (The Princess and the Goblin). I have not read the original of this, but wanted to see how McKinley would rewrite a classic tale.

The book is pretty but not beautiful, and the story is charming but a bit flat to my taste. In addition, the final change in the princess from careless to concerned seemed unmotivated and hence not quite believable. I think it's a fine book to have in your library, but not worth chasing down too hard.

When I received this as a gift, I had already read and thoroughly delighted in "At the Back of the North Wind," "The Princess and the Goblin," "The Princess and Curdie," and "The Golden Key." When you read MacDonald, if your heart is right, you feel sheltered--the world he creates for you is as trustworthy and pure as C. S. Lewis's Narnia or Rivendell of Tolkien's Middle Earth. At the same time, you feel challenged to transform your own world and make it more like MacDonald's.

I was expecting another dose of the same awe-inspiring goodness without false piety or preachiness that is MacDonald's literary legacy. In "The Light Princess," however, there was an unexpected ingredient--a sharp wit that pervades the whole book and made me laugh out loud more than once. In a modern world where wit and vulgarity are viewed as conjoined twins, how satisfying a book this is! MacDonald infused delicious humor into his characters without losing the innocence. I fell in love with this book by page three, and it has surpassed "The Princess and the Goblin" as my favorite work of George MacDonald.

The fact that my favorite illustrator of all time, Maurice Sendak, added his talents to this book is icing on the cake. Sendak always grabs the heart and soul of the written work and renders it into drawings too evocative to be believed. The drawing of the prince with only his head above the water took my breath away, and in one fabulous illustration, the hilarious expression on the face of the gravity-deprived infant princess as she floats away reflects the hilarity of the story itself.

If some of MacDonald's other stories have turned you off because they are too long, too "deep" or whatever, don't miss this treasure as a result. It is MacDonald-Light, and by that I mean not only easy to read, but typically illumined with beauty and truth. Plus, it's a love story that pokes fun of its own sentimentality. Anyone not brain-dead and heart-numb ought to adore it.

The Light Princess has no flaws. I have never read a fairy tale that made me laugh so hard--my wife and I could hardly catch our breaths at the beginning of the story. And then we cried at the end; the symbolism is strikingly powerful. As good as this book is, however, I like one George MacDonald book better: The Lost Princess, although that book is hard to find outside of an anthology. If you can ever find The Lost Princess, however, you find another masterpiece. For the record, my -wife- likes The Light Princess better: I guess there's no accounting for taste! ;)

Having just examined George MacDonald's Diary of and Old Soul alongside Betty Aberlin's White Page Poems, I feel confident to recommend it to any MacDonald fan as well as to any lover of higher poetry in general. The White Page Poems seem to be named after MacDonald's original design of his 1880 text, which kept the opposite page blank so that a reader may pen his or her meditations in reaction to each facing poem. Aberlin has taken MacDonald's advice and, like MacDonald, has opened her heart to the world. However, my purpose for writing this review is not to detail MacDonald's and Aberlin's skills as a poet, for there are several well-written reviews on this page which offer good light on the quality of these poems, but to briefly detail the quality of the physical condition of the text.

Zossima Press has produced an excellent product. Although I usually try to avoid paperback books when possible, this paperback book is well-made. The binding is tight and yet I am able to open the text wide without the fear of the spine cracking down the center. Likewise, the pages themselves are well-fastened to the spine and do not appear weak in any way. Nor is the paper of a grainy quality, which provides me the assurance that they will last many years to come. In other words, I am impressed.

I hope that my review has been helpful for you - Happy Shopping!

Hats off to Zossima Press for making this remarkable volume available. Printed on one side of the page are the 366 7-line poems written by influential author and poet George MacDonald and first published in 1880. He meant for these daily meditations to inspire a response in readers, and in this volume, we have the privilege of reading contemporary poet Betty K. Aberlin's replies on the other side of each page, also in the form of 7-line poems. Her poems are a fitting counterpoint to MacDonald's, and they bear witness to the timelessness of the natural and spiritual subjects on which he focused. Helpful endnotes round out this thought-provoking volume of intensely introspective and inspiring poems.

Betty Aberlin's poems touch on so many aspects of life based on her own experiences. In responding to George McDonalds words, she makes you feel what she feels and see what she sees! Which is why I enjoy reading the poems. She honestly reveals herself. In responding to George McDonalds poems, she took on a difficult, courageous task. How does one even begin to do that? Some how Betty found a way and poured her heart and soul into the poems.

What a blessing to have discovered this book ! The poetry is placing such a desire in my own heart to begin creating my own poems. With highlighter in hand, I read through the first two months of their writings. On almost every page I marked lines that spoke to my heart from the 1800s or from writer Betty Aberlin.

I highly recommend this book. The poetry of George MacDonald and Betty Aberlin seem to awaken creative imagination. I am looking forward to reading their poetry, meditating on their thoughts, and then putting my own thoughts into verse.

As publisher Robert Trexler notes in the introduction, "in the 1880 book the pages opposite the poems were intentionally left blank. MacDonald wrote a 'Dedication' encouraging his readers to write their own thoughts on the empty 'white page.'"
But if you're like me, you're often left wondering exactly how to interact with great, life-changing literature. Or you're often inclined to let your eyes scan the page, taking in the story or the lines of poetry, without ever letting it sink in deep. So Zossima gives us both an example of how to interact with great literature and a way to gain a deeper reading of MacDonald's poetry by putting in the "white space" the world of Betty K. Aberlin, who responds to each of MacDonald's 366 7-line stanzas with poetry of her own. This is the kind of hard soul-work that'll change a person, moving literature from the realm of mere academic analysis into the realm of real life. I highly recommend Zossima's version of The Diary of an Old Soul with The White Page Poems. As it's only two 7-line stanzas per day, I may make this one a yearly read.

Loved it!
This book is about the conditions on the "no man's land" between England and Scotland in the 1500's to the 1600's. However, this book can give you a very good understanding of what goes on in a modern day "failed state".
The politics, the economics, and the violence and lawlessness are very much the same as many other parts of the world in this century.
This could arguably apply to places like the border between Israel/Palestine or Pakistan/Afghanistan etc.

With all the focus on Scotland being tied to all things tartan, the peoples of the Borderlands often overlooked. George MacDonald Fraser paints a spectacular portal into the tumultuous life of the Border Rievers and all they came in contact with. The objective writing style favors neither Scotland nor England. He does not attempt to justify one side or the others action- it just is what it is. This approach fits in perfectly with the frequency in which loyalties and rivals switched sides and waged a blood feud that is still felt in parts today. Anyone who is remotely interested in anything associated with Scotland, England, organized crime or just a good history will bask in the wonder of this spectacular book.

THE STEEL BONNETS by George MacDonald Fraser is a prodigious and esoteric historical narrative about the Anglo-Scottish border. The time is the 16th century. The place and players are indicated by the book's subtitle, "The Story of the Anglo-Scottish Border Reivers", reivers being raiders. The place is more specifically the six administrative areas called Marches (3 English and 3 Scottish - West, Middle, and East on each side of the line) which straddled the border to serve as a buffer zone.

Having grown up in Carlisle, the former bastion of the English West March, Fraser has written a work of love divided into five parts. In the first three, Fraser describes the genesis of the Border Marches, the Wardens, one per March, that were responsible for the maintenance of order, the raider families that lived there, and the culture and practice of violence that characterized the area. The author's catalog of depredations, based on research of contemporary records, includes murder, arson, blackmail, kidnapping, rustling, racketeering, feuding, plunder, and banditry - all made infinitely worse by the indifference and/or cynical scheming of the English and Scottish central governments which tolerated the not-infrequent participation in the mayhem by the Wardens themselves. Part 4 is a sequential narrative history of events along the Border during the 16th century, the last before James VI of Scotland united the island's thrones as James I of Great Britain. Part 5 describes this monarch's brutal suppression of both the violence and raider families of the Marches during the first decade of the 17th century, an effort that finally brought peace to the region.

THE STEEL BONNETS offers a surfeit of detail. At times, as Fraser brings on stage the multitude of principal characters and attempts to unravel the maze of ever-shifting family alliances and feuds (Scot vs. Anglo, Scot vs. Scot, Anglo vs. Anglo, everybody vs. everyone), the reader may decide the author went over the top. However, the story is never uninteresting, and the social chaos is appalling.

If the reader was delighted by the humor in Fraser's other books, e.g. the McAuslan and Flashman series, there may be some disappointment as this narrative is relatively straitlaced. However, even here the author's dry wit occasionally shows. Regarding the assumption of the English East March Wardenship by Henry Carey in 1588:

"... his notion of Border justice was that the only good reiver was a dead one - a point of view which has much to be said for it. Possibly the fact that he suffered from gall-stones made him irritable, for he started in office as he meant to continue, by hanging Scottish thieves."

And, as always, Fraser's prose is a joy to behold, as demonstrated by his closing remarks:

"Only now and then, if your romantic imagination is sharp enough, there can come a little drift from the past ... most vivid of all, perhaps, in a little fellside village at night, when there is a hunter's moon and a strong wind, and the black cloud shadows hurry across the tops, and beasts stamp in the dark, and an inn door down in the village opens and slams with a blink of light, and the rough Norse voices sound and laugh and die away ... The old Border is buried a long time ago, and there is hardly a trace now to mark where the steel bonnets passed by."

Most of us think of Elizabethan Britain as a reasonably peaceful place. Shakespeare and Marlowe writing plays, Edmund Spenser writing "The Faerie Queen," Sir Francis Bacon inventing science to replace natural philosophy, the English Renaissance.

However, there was one part of Britain that underwent continuous terror and warfare, the Borders. The area lying around the border between Scotland and England was an almost lawless place. Great numbers of the people inhabiting the Border Marches lived by despoiling each other. The 16th Century was when great tribes feuded continuously among themselves, when robbery and kidnapping were everyday professions, when raiding, arson, murder and extortion were an important part of the social system. This had little to do with war between the two countries, who spent most of the century at peace with each other. Much of the raiding was not cross-border, but rather English attacking English and Scots stealing from other Scots. It was a way of life pursued in peace time, by people who accepted it as normal. The seamen of the first Elizabeth might sweep the world's greatest fleet off the seas, but for all the protection she could give to her Northumbrian peasants they might as well have been in Africa.

While the monarchs of England and Scotland ruled the relatively secure hearts of their kingdoms, the narrow hill land between was dominated by the lance and the sword. The tribal leaders from their towers, the broken men and outlaws of the mosses, the ordinary farmers of the valleys, in their own phrase "shook loose the Border." They continued to shake it as long as it was a political reality, practising systematic robbery and destruction on each other. History has named them the Border Reivers.

Fraser explains, in very well written words, how the situation on the Borders came about. He describes the manner of people who lived there, who were the leading robber families, how they lived and ate and dressed and built their houses and so forth. He tells how the reivers practised such crimes as the protection racket, robbery and cattle rustling. He also explains about the feuding that went on. He describes how Border law operated under the March Wardens and how the two governments tried to quell the reivers. Lastly the book tells how the reiving ended when England and Scotland came under one king, and the older Borders ceased to be.

barbarous,murderous,anarchic, happenings on the Anglo-Scottish borderlands from the 13th through 16th centuries. It was Afghanistan with kilts.

I'll start out by saying first and foremost, this is one of my favorite books. But let me also add that I love it, not ignoring its flaws, but regardless of them. And it does have flaws.
I have read that the lead character Diamond is unbelieveable, especially after the main turning point of the story. That's okay. He's supposed to be. Without giving away too much plot, Diamond coming back from the back of the north wind is almost akin to Paul being called up to heaven, they were both changed, and for similar reasons. Aside from that, he is no more unbelieveable than Dickens's Oliver Twist or Paul Dombey. Paul Dombey being a much better comparision, as I must think MacDonald based Diamond upon him somewhat.
Speaking of Dickens, some critics have complained that MacDonald tricks the reader by making half of the novel a fantasy but then switches abruptly to a Dickensian type social commentary. Once the family moves to London, he seems much more concerned with the ills of that place than with the earlier fantasy. I can't argue with that. It does happen. After the main turning point, the North Wind makes very little appearance until the end. I think this is a very important part of the book, and while the fanicful moments seem to be where MacDonald excelled, the latter half of the novel is not lacking in greatness, as it maintains a fantasic aspect, though not the same one of as the first half. That being said, it should be known that I ademently love Charles Dickens. If you don't care for his works you may want to reconsider this novel, as I think it is laced with many Dickensian elements--a "problem" not usually seen in a MacDonald novel.
Also, I have heard this book attacked because, as a children's book, it is hard for children to grasp the meaning of it. I think it's a weak attack and better men than me have put up better defenses. MacDonald himself, for one. "Your children are not likely to trouble you about the meaning. They find what they are capable of finding, and more would be too much." That being said, it is a religious story, though not out-right and not allogorical either. It can be ignored or embraced, dependant on your views.
Now that I've addressed those main attacks, I'll go back to those flaws I mentioned. Like every book I've read by MacDonald, there are lulls. They are much more sparse than in his other novels, however, and easily gotten through. They should hardly be a main concern.
His writing style is not perfect either, though it is hardly bad. It's just "less good." But the story will make you overlook some of his less than wonderful moments.
The ending of the story is another flaw, in my opinion. Not that I feel the ending should've been changed, but I would've prefered it to be better kept from the reader. That did not take away from the power of it, but I did see it coming about half-way through. But maybe I'm just expecting too much.
Despite those three complaints of mine, At the Back of the North Wind is one of the best "children's stories" ever written. It is very much akin to J. M. Barrie's Peter and Wendy: fanciful and entertaining. Going back to that Dickensian influence, it is also moralistic, though not preachy or stern. . .too often.

This is a beautful allegory of a frail young boy's near death experience as he struggles with illness, told in a way children can understand and not fear, and of his eventual death, as he is taken home to heaven. It is bittersweet, but it really gives children (and adults) a good perspective on the Christian view of life, death, and what happens after death. Note, it is written by C.S. Lewis's favorite author, and I highly recommend it for ages 10 to adult.

BUY IT you will love it if you have a kid that likes fiction books or you like them yourself you will love it. it does not have a boring part in it the whole thing is so magical and the writer knows his cliff hangers no wonder he inspired C.S. Lewis [who is also one of my favorite writers] and it is a three hundred and seventeen page book that you wish would never end it is probably one of the best books I have ever read and you probably will trust me i really really like this book and you just read read read and LIKE IT!!! buy it trust me.

The book starts well, very interestingly it dwells with the life of this little fellow Diamond whose father is a poor coachman in London. He has a mysterious relation with the North Wind. And this is the best part of the book, this relationship, the travels and conversations between the lady wind and the angelic child. When the text parts from these vehicles it complicates too much, not much happens and gets lost in too much talking.


Still worth a try, the mystery is there if one hangs on to the end.

George MacDonald wrote hundreds of stories throughout his lifetime (not surprising considering he had eleven kids!), most of which were fantasies that drew on a rich variety of sources: mythology, fairytales and Biblical mysticism. Credited by C.S. Lewis as the main inspiration behind The Chronicles of Narnia Boxed Set, MacDonald's dreamy little tales (especially this one) are a strange blend of frustrating ramblings and sublime imagery. Love it or hate it, "At the Back of the North Wind" encompasses the best and worst about MacDonald, the Victorian Era, and even children's literature itself.

Named after his father's favourite horse, Diamond is the son of a coachman, and lives above the stable in the hayloft. As the story begins, Diamond is visited by a mysterious but beautiful woman who introduces herself as the North Wind. Inviting him to join her on her night-time journeys, Diamond soon becomes intimately acquainted with the being, unraveling certain aspects of her enigmatic characteristics and even visiting the land that exists behind her back - a place that she herself is barred from.

The visit endows Diamond with an unearthly quality of goodness and innocence (MacDonald is constantly defending Diamond's angelic conduct with the fact that he's been to the back of the North Wind), allowing his mere presence to positively improve and enrich the lives of those around him, including his family, his employers, and acquaintances from both the upper and lower classes. Although most tend to think that Diamond is touched in the head, the young boy has utter faith in the North Wind and her claims that everything will eventually turn out for the best. As a Congregationalist minister, MacDonald truly believes in this theology, and ensures that whatever seems like misfortune or tragedy in the plot is eventually revealed to be unexpectedly fortuitous in one way or another.

"At the Back of the North Wind" was originally written in serialized form, with each chapter published periodically in magazines, and so the story can feel a little choppy at times. There is no clear sense of a structured plot or story-arc, instead it is quite episodic - one chapter can be about Diamond's virtuous deeds in London, another can be fully devoted to a fairytale that a character is telling, or a dream that a person has had. At times you can tell that MacDonald is just making it up as he goes along, which makes for a fresh, but sometimes frustrating read. I like to have the sense that an author has a clear sense of where they're going with their plot and characters, and often parts of MacDonald's work can appear random or meaningless.

Of course, this is almost certainly due to the time period in which it is written. MacDonald was a contemporary of Lewis Carroll, author of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass (Signet Classics), the first children's book to be written for pure entertainment purposes (in fact, it was MacDonald's children who were among the first to read Carroll's manuscript and encourage him to publish it). If there are any kinks in MacDonald's storytelling, it was probably because he was one of the forerunners in writing children's fiction - there were few prototypes on which to model his own work. Understandable, but still a little annoying when slugging through several long and not-very-good poems inserted needlessly into the text (you have my permission to skip them).

There are other aspects of Victorian culture at work in the story: a fascination with the poor and the sick (both encompassed in the character of Nanny, a young sweeper), the growing trend of philanthropy at work amongst the upper-classes (as seen in the frequent visits to the children's hospital), a preference for country life than that of the city, and a sense of mysticism and spirituality throughout. And then of course there's Diamond himself. The Victorians were in love with the idea of the Child as a God-Like Being (witness any one of Wordsworth's poems) and Diamond is no exception. He is, quite simply, perfect. This means that some readers will find him endearing, enlightening and inspirational, and others will find him sanctimonious, irritating and totally unbelievable as a character. For what it's worth, I like Diamond, even when MacDonald takes his character to its inevitable end - Diamond is too good for this earth, and the Victorians loved a good death scene (see Little Nell in Charles Dickens's The Old Curiosity Shop (Penguin Classics)).

Although most children will be put off by the strange, dreamy pacing of the novel (better to start them off with MacDonald's most popular children's book The Princess and the Goblin (Puffin Classics - the Essential Collection)), older readers will be fascinated by MacDonald's creation of the North Wind and the theology that he delicately works into the story - a theology that only occasionally slips into preaching. There's plenty here to be intrigued by, certainly enough to make it worth the reading, but be prepared for some randomness, shaky plotlines and Victorian melodrama (though on second thought, that last one just may be a bonus feature!)

There really is no feeling like that of picking up an as-yet-unread novel by George MacDonald Fraser. It is one of delicious certainty: you will be entertained, you will be informed, and you will be charmed. Unfortunately I can only expect to have this experience a couple of more times in my life, as there just isn't that much left of his that I haven't read anymore. Alas, alas, alas.

The locale in this one is the wild English/Scottish borderlands in 1598. Although England was mostly settled and Scotland was mostly settled, the midlands--under the jurisdiction of neither--were not, and bands of thieves and brigands--reivers--roamed about, terrorizing the countryside.

For characters there is Luis Guevara, the teller of the tale and the meek priest of the Dacre estate, located in the middle of these badlands; there is Lord Ralph Dacre, the white-haired, crimson-clad Red Bull, Lord of the Estate, and scourge of the thieves; there is Lady Margaret Dacre, sharp-witted, fire-breathing, and newly come to the estate after the untimely death of her father; and there is finally Archie Noble Waitabout, a broken man, thief, and he who proved to be the Great Lady's protector.

For plot there is the death of the Red Bull, "shot . . . through with calivers, nine balls in his body, and he let die by the roadside." Lady Margaret, bred in courtly London, comes to the estate and on the date of her arrival finds that the thieves are already attempting to reinstitute their filthy blackmail on her timid villagers. Those charged with helping her find excuses not to, for various reasons, but primarily because of their unstated fear of the dreaded Nixon clan. She turns to the imprisoned Waitabout, who in exchange for his life, agrees to go to the village and defend it.

For language, there is the incomparable GMF, this time using the lingo of an educated Scot of the 16th Century, duplicating the feat of his bravura linguistic performance in Black Ajax. And there is his descriptive power, here, the narrator's first view of the village: "A sorry pack they were, the men-folk stout enough but dirty and ill-clad, the women as slatternly as I ever saw, and if there were three pairs of shoon among them it was enough."

And the description of the battle itself, enough to make your blood run cold: "There was a great commotion about the bearded Nixon, him that was the leader and called Ill Will, and they tugged him all ways, some saying he should hang and others for having at him with their blades . . . they dragged him to the great dunghill that lay beside the cattle pen, and there heaved him up, and drave him down head foremost into the filth, and held him there."

There you have it, another great GMF novel, this one without the romantic playfulness of the Flashman novels, but still with the driving narrative, expert use of the language, and superb research. You cannot go wrong with this author. He has easily reached the stature of his heroes: Stevenson, Doyle, Sabatini, and Dumas. Indeed, he may stand above them.

After reading QUARTERED SAFE OUT HERE, the best personal world war two recollection I have ever read about the British campaign against the Japanese, I was extremely interested in learning more of the history of the people he led, the Borderers. (The Engish charged and the Germans ran. The Germans charged and the English ran. The Kings Own Borderers charged and everybody ran.) I then read STEEL BONNETS, Fraser's history of the people he had led in that war. It was fascinating. I wondered why he didn't write one of his great stories based on what he had researched. Then I found out about CANDLEMASS ROAD. I ordered it and awaited it with great anticipation. When it arrived, I went through it in an afternoon. I have rarely been so disappointed by a favorite author. I want the publisher to slap Fraser on both cheeks and tell him to " march right back into that room and finish the book". What was written is better than anything Fraser has ever written I know, from my reading, that Fraser admires CAPTAIN BLOOD as a great adventure novel. I agree with him. The story he wrote here is as good as anything written by Sabatini and it left me with a feeling of great dismay when it ended before its time. What he sets up here is one of the great hisorical novels.

But it ends up feeling like what could have been an appendage (here's what I think it might have been like) to STEEL BONNETS. If you are a Fraser fan, order it and enjoy. If you are a Border fan, order it and enjoy. If you are an historical novel by a reliable author fan, write to the publisher and demand that the author be required to to tell us the end of the story of Lady Dacre, the Broken man, Wattie and the Bailiff. The use of the English language is some of the best I have ever encountered ( I am an O'Brian fan) and the rendering of the Scottish the most accessible since Farnol.

In little less then 24 hours, the 16th-century young Lady Dacre arrives at the castle she has inherited on the Scots/English border, compels a wandering stranger to defend her tenants against roving brigands, falls for him (almost) and watches him leave.

Although this sounds like a bodice-ripper romance, it's rather the opposite - a fierce, violent, even macho story of the terribly violent world of the "Border Counties" of the 16th century, told in an authentic dialect by Father Luis, a retainer of the Dacre family.

McDonald-Fraser's novella (barely 150 pages) is remarkable for its economy; within a few paragraphs we have the main characters compellingly described and developed; within a few pages Waitabout (the stranger who defends her) has dashed off to save the village, within a chapter or two a terrible violent battle has erupted. The pace is breathtaking but not at the expense of fully realized characters.

I will say, though, that the archaic Scottish dialect is not easy going at first; stick with it though, if you get in 10 pages you will not be able to put it down!

This is both a review of The Candlemass Road and a sharp disagreement with the previous reviewer. I have read all of Mr. Fraser's books, (save only Quartered Safe Out Here), and count Mr. Fraser as one of my favorite writers. He is a master storyteller, who grabs readers and pulls them along, with breakneck action alternating with insightful looks into humankind - often in the same sentence. And, of course, Mr. Fraser is funny. The Pyrates may be one of the laugh-out-loud, funniest books ever written.

The Candlemass Road is by far George MacDonald Fraser's most powerful book. In a few short pages, Mr. Fraser sets the premise, the scene and the characters. While loaded with tense action sequences,this is primarily a study of character and of situational ethics. It is a study of a uncertain land in an uncertain time, told through the eyes of an aged, flock-less priest. The story is based on the horrors faced on a daily basis by the inhabitants of the Borderlands between Scotland and England at the end of the sixteenth century - the history of which was ably explored in Mr. Fraser's The Steel Bonnets. (If you enjoyed that book, you'll love this one.)

The protagonist, young Lady Margaret Dacre, must use all of her wit and power to protect her folk from a band of Scots reivers - on the very day she returns to her ancestral seat after seventeen years at Court. Lady Margaret uses the tools available, and learns a valuable lesson about life on the borders, and the "custom of the country".

The previous reviewer felt that the story ended just when it was getting going. I could not disagree more strongly. The book ended because the story ended. One paragraph more would have been too much. The reader does not need to be told what happens next.

The characters are fully developed; the action is intense; the interplay between the main characters is electric. This book grabbed me on page one, and left me shaking at the last word. This is a fabulous book. Buy it so Mr. Fraser will write more. Then read it. Then read it again. Five stars.

Don't expect an amusing romp à la "Flashman" with this compelling novella. Told by an elderly Catholic priest many years after the event, it's a dark and bitter tale about the triumph of pride and ruthless expediency over honour and moral precepts.

Only one law applies in the Anglo-Scottish borderlands of the C16th, the "Law of the Marches", meaning "might is right". Raids and random, brutal violence are a way of life, and a constant sense of fear and trepidation prevails among both Scottish and English settlers.

Sir Ralph "Red Bull" Dacre, iron-fisted ruler of the estate of Askerton in Cumberland for many years, has been ambushed and killed.
His heiress, the young Lady Margaret, arrives to find her father's retainers dispersed and her inheritance under imminent threat from Scottish reivers. Beautiful but devious, arrogant and not used to having her will thwarted, Margaret is a true daughter of the Border, and prepared to use any means to hold her lands.

The means are at hand in the person of the versatile rogue Archie Noble, currently being held prisoner in her cellars on a charge of thievery. She offers him a choice: a speedy hanging from a nearby chestnut tree, or to lead a "forlorn hope" counter-attack upon the expected invaders, in which case she will stand surety against the consequences.

Not surprisingly he takes the latter option and succeeds beyond expectation, but then the lady makes a further offer---

The abrupt ending mirrors the reader's gasp of stunned disbelief at a final shocking betrayal of trust, and adds impact to a powerful and memorable little story.