I nearly missed this book! I was at The Dusty Bookshelf looking for The Prydain Chronicles, and almost walked away without seeing that Lloyd Alexander’s books occupied another shelf! I had previously seen Gypsy Rizka listed among his works on Audible and it sounded interesting. I had no idea it would be so good! Its themes and audience appeal are similar to The Prydain Chronicles, yet the style is so different, it was wonderful to enjoy Lloyd Alexander’s wit and excellent story-telling again, but see how varied his writing style can be.
First, the story itself. It is episodic in structure, and one could almost read the chapters out of order (except for the last two or three) and be none the worse for it. Each chapter contains wit and humour and adventure, the tension being less ‘will Rizka get out of this?” and more ‘how will Rizka get out of this?’ Growing up, I always looked forward to serialised comic strips—the Calvin and Hobbes where Calvin makes a good version of himself, or the one where he duplicates himself—and I loved detective shows that were quirky as well as adventurous and at times dire—Matlock, Murder She Wrote, Columbo, Monk. Rizka contains an echo of these heroes, misunderstood but content in being themselves, and not taking themselves too seriously. The realistically absurd characters, showcasing humans at their best and worst and silliest—particularly in relationships and politics—together with Rizka’s wonderful problem-solving capabilities reveal the wit, wisdom, and imagination of the author. The book, published in 1999, would serve as a great political manual for leaders nowadays—or for anyone who has a habit of taking themselves too seriously, or thinking they can control others. I don’t know what the political climate was like in the US in 1999—I know some folks were unreasonably worried about the end of the world as they knew it—but Lloyd’s satirical representation of the town leadership depicts an accurate portrait of ours today. And he shows that the best leaders are those who think more of others than themselves, and are oftentimes those who did not seek a high position, and renounce it as soon as possible once they’ve received it.
There is, however, a story arc, and Rizka has an arc as well, though till the end I was starting to wonder if she would have one. Was her father going to show up and she bid everyone farewell, as she seems to have always planned on? Or would he never come, and she just remain as she always had? I shan’t tell the ending, but Rizka’s is a story, like that in Prydain, of finding wonder in the world around us, especially in the ordinary—here think of Ali Baba’s cave in the story—of growth and maturity through relationships with others; and of learning to receive love humbly—which Rizka has done all her life, though we see the real fruit only at the end.
Rizka’s greatest attribute, even above her mischief-making and natural leadership, is mercy. She is merciful towards others, and she is merciful toward herself, not beating herself up for her mistakes, yet seeking to remedy their effects on others. She is able to show mercy to herself and others because she knows her own worth and value, but does not take herself too seriously. Only because she knows her own worth is she able to remain constant in loving herself, which we see in her assertiveness without arrogance or bullying. And because she recognises her own goodness, she is able to see the goodness in others and appreciate their differences without envy or competitive pride. Because she knows her own goodness, she does not take herself too seriously (since her goodness doesn’t come from what she does, a lesson learned from Big Franko), and thus she can forgive without resentment.
As aforementioned, Alexander reveals both in this book and in The Prydain Chronicles the beauty and wonder in the ordinary, of coming to better know oneself and one’s desires through right relationship with oneself (humility) and with others. The writing itself, however, is quite different. I was re-listening to The Book of Three while reading Gypsy Rizka the same week. In the former, the narrator is primarily from Taran’s point of view (I don’t think there is a scene without him in the whole series), relating events objectively with little to no humour (the humour comes from the characters’ actions and dialogue), and expositing little (exposition comes through dialogue for the most part). But in Gypsy Rizka, the narrator is omniscient, exposits a fair amount (though at a good pace, not dumping it all in one spot on page two), and has a very British sense of humour in the casual descriptions of things ironical or absurd.* The following excerpt serves as an example of this last item:
“Miss Letta, waving a lace handkerchief in one hand and a yardstick in the other, seemed undecided whether to swoon or use the measuring device as a weapon.”
“‘He invaded my premises—and left only moments ago.’ Miss Letta’s eyes flashed and her usually well-mannered bosom ventured to heave. ‘I have been importuned. Advances have been made. Yes, I have definitely been advanced upon.'”
On top of that, the general vibe of bestial insults, funny names (Sharpnack, Mayor Pumpa), and everyone’s—regardless of profession—usage of long words gave it that light-hearted tone of a children’s book written by someone who was writing for themselves more than anyone else. In this way, it had a nice reminiscence of books like A Series of Unfortunate Events—not the dark tone, but that of a fun and self-confident writer who writes the story he would like to read.
This book did exactly what it intended to do: tell a fun children’s story with good humour, realistically ridiculous characters, and simple but deep themes of mercy, love, and humility—a story that can make the reader laugh and just maybe cry. Between this and The Prydain Chronicles, Lloyd Alexander shows his versatility and skill as a children’s author.** I’ll definitely be rereading this!
*The author was American, but he lived in Wales for a time, and perhaps acquired it there, or else from what he read (or both).
**I would classify the fourth and fifth books of The Prydain Chronicles as young adult, which further shows his versatility.
The Curious Critic 