Taran shook his head. “I give it up. My quest has brought only grief to all of you. And for me, it’s led me not to honor but ot shame. Taran? Taran makes me sick at heart. I longed to be of noble birth, longed for it so much I believed it was true. A proud birthright was all that counted for me. Those who had none–even when I admired them, as I admired Aeddan, as I learned to admire Craddoc–I deemed them lesser because of it. Without knowing them, I judged them less than what they were. Now I see them as true men. Noble? They are far nobler than I.”
“I am not proud of myself,” Taran went on. “I may never be again. If I do find pride, I’ll not find it in what I was or what I am, but what I may become. Not in my birth, but in myself.” (160)
In this story he is on a journey to find the mystical Mirror of Llunet, which is purported to be able to show the gazer his true identity. Of course, this journey is not without its roadblocks, pitfalls, and actual villains that stand in the way of its completion. It is full of action and even contains some slightly scary parts. (I made the mistake of reading it at bedtime one night before I fully realized that it might not make the best bedtime story for those–like my children–who can be easily excited or scared.) The themes in this story are universal, as are the symbols and tropes. I love the ending so much–Taran continues to look for who he is, which in Prydain means he is searching not only for his parentage (which he hopes is noble, if not royal, so as to win the hand of the fair Eilonwy) but also his vocation. He meets a metalsmith, a weaver, and a potter, and they all teach him about life, but ultimately he realizes that none of these vocations are his rightful one, so his quest continues. As is true for the entire series, there are moments of sheer loveliness in the story:
The farmstead Taran saw to be a tumbledown cottage, whose walls of stone, delved from the surrounding fields, had partly fallen away. Half a dozen ill-shorn sheep grazed over the sparse pasture. A rusted plow, a broken-handled mattock, and a scant number of other implements lay in an open-fronted shed. In the midst of the high summits, hemmed in closely by thorny brush and scrub, the farm stood lorn and desolate, yet clung doggedly to its patch of bare ground like a surviving warrior flinging his last, lone defiance against a pressing ring of enemies. (135)
Although this entire story takes place away from Caer Cadarn, it is still peopled by a few of our favorite characters: everyone’s favorite Gurgi, with his “crunchings and munchings” and the hyperbolic Fflewdur Fflam with his tattletale harp. The only one of our favorites that is missing is Eilonwy, but now that Taran’s intentions towards her are known, it was sort of nice to not have her complicating the adventure. 😉 This is a fabulous series. We’re on to the final book, The High King, tomorrow! Highly Recommended. (Macmillan, 1967)
Reviews of other books in The Chronicles of Prydain at Hope Is the Word:
We may have to go back to this series this summer!
This is my best loved Lloyd Alexander book. I love love love the wisdom he learns while trying the various crafts.