Medieval matters
Enter the world of olde England, where life for girls isn’t all that merry, but always fascinating.
IT’S Backlist Sunday, folks, and I’ll be discussing two Karen Cushman chapter books – her 1995 Newbery Honor winner, Catherine, Called Birdy; and her 1996 Newbery Medalist The Midwife’s Apprentice.
They are slim volumes that can be read very quickly, the language being clear, simple and engagingly descriptive. Catherine, Called Birdy is written in the first person and takes the form of a diary.
The protagonist is Catherine Lobes, the 14-year-old daughter of the English lord of a minor manor house.
Catherine is known as Birdy because she is fond of these creatures and keeps several, caged, in her bedroom. Birdy keeps a diary at the behest of her brother Edward, a monk, who believes that it will do wonders for her mind.
Through this diary, the reader learns all about life inmedieval England, as seen through the eyes of a rebellious young member of the nobility.
I think it’s fair to say that most ladies of Birdy’s time would have been much more resigned than she is to their fates, and would have accepted without question their parents’ right to use them, through marriage, as a way to improve the family’s economic and social standing.
But Birdy is unhappy with her lot in life and fantasises constantly about escaping it; she is a rebel, and not just in her imagination and thoughts – Birdy’s approach to life on the whole obviously reflects a disposition that is far more open and questioning than would be expected of someone living such a sheltered existence.
She actively discourages potential suitors (much to her father’s outrage), attempts to join a group of exiled Jews as they flee England, hatches a plan to rescue a mistreated fairground bear and counts amongst her closest friends a goat boy and a serving maid.
Although Birdy might not behave in a wholly realistic manner for that time period, her life develops in quite a conventional way (despite her best efforts) and this allows the reader to suspend disbelief when it comes to the character’s manners and conduct. In any case, this book would be much less interesting if it described the life of an obedient, conforming and passive child. As it is, the reader can’t help but be drawn to the ironic and feisty young Birdy and the colourful, extremely droll account of her life in shocking, delightful and disgusting Medieval England.
The Midwife’s Apprentice is also set during this era and describes (in third person narrative) a very different character and life.
Beetle is so named because, at the start of the book, she is found sleeping in a village dung heap and likened to a dung beetle.
Dung heaps, although foul and foul-smelling, generate marvellous heat and the homeless Beetle is cold and hungry enough not to care about the stench when she chooses to shelter in one.
The 12-year-old (or thereabouts) homeless waif is found by Jane, the village midwife, who hired Beetle as her “apprentice”. However, Jane is only interested in cheap labour, and has no intention of actually teaching Beetle any practical skills.
A mean, self-serving woman, the midwife inspires no love, but Beetle, remembering life before she became Jane’s apprentice, is careful to remain faithful and loyal to her mistress.
Despite being ill-served, Beetle blossoms through various means: She befriends a stray cat, acquires a proper name (Alyce), saves a boy from drowning, helps deliver twin calves, befriends a small boy and successfully delivers the village bailiff’s daughter.
All this helps builds her confidence, but her self-worth is so fragile that it topples after she fails at her second attempt to work independently as a midwife.
Although the story is compelling, I feel it could have been developed more fully. There is hardly time for Alyce to grow in the 121 pages on which her life is laid out.
As a result, some of her actions seem inexplicable and unbelievable. How did she get to that mental place to do X, Y or Z? What led her to certain conclusions or decisions?
You don’t find out because Cushman does not bother to really explore the inner workings of her character’s mind. I find this quite odd because surely the author was not restricted to telling her story in 121 pages. Why didn’t she try to reveal more about how Alyce thinks and acts?
In my opinion, Catherine, Called Birdy is more convincing as an award winner, but Apprentice is, nevertheless, a fascinating look at the ancient art and science of midwifery.
Daphne Lee reads to wonder and wander, be amazed and amused, horrified and heartened and inspired and comforted. She wishes more people will try it, too. Send e-mails to the above address and check out her blog at daphne.blogs.com/books.