Fourteen-year old Lucius Junius Brutus yearns to join the army of King Tarquin the Proud, Etruscan ruler of Rome. When he successfully swims the Tiber River before sundown on the longest day of the year, he counts on the King choosing him as a warrior. But Lucius' father has other plans: to make Lucius a priest and guardian of the dusty scrolls of Rome's legendary lawgiver, Numa Pompilius. Obeying his father, Lucius arrives at the shrine only to find it is a place of magic empowered by Numa's grammarly scrolls. If Lucius can master the scrolls' potential, he will not only defeat the human and ghostly forces that terrify and threaten Rome, he will become the master of the city and even the world. Can Lucius resist the temptation of becoming a king even prouder than Tarquin?
D.W. Frauenfelder began writing stories at the tender age of very young and his first novel was the critically-acclaimed (by his teacher) "Dawe and the Typhoon," about a boy from the South Pacific who has to shift for himself when his family is wiped out by a storm. Recently, Frauenfelder realized that "Dawe and the Typhoon" was probably written in imitation of the Newberry Award-winning novel "Call It Courage" by Armstrong Sperry, though he has no recollection of reading this book. Frauenfelder has followed up this homage by writing novels inspired by such diverse influences as P.D. Eastman (author of Go Dog Go), Else Holmelund Minarik (author of the Little Bear series), Ursula LeGuin (author of the Earthsea Trilogy), Homer (author of the Iliad and the Odyssey), and Hergé (author of the Tintin graphic novels). He lives in Texas with his family and pet pygmy hippopotamus, Etwart.
I have a soft spot for the monarchy/early republic and Livy, so I was instantly interested. It is a quick, fun read. My students will enjoy it, I think. For me, the pacing felt a little off. The momentum to the book felt a little jarring-quiet moment to epic fight with very little buildup. But the characters and world-building is fun, so I am off to the sequel!
From the first moments that Lucius Junius dives into the swirling River Tiber to prove his bravery, we are swept along with this youth into strange and wonderful adventures. If you're looking for a good story for a gifted kid, or you're an adult with a yen for historical fiction looking for stories of ancient Rome, this book should join your collection.
In a time when one civilization, the Etruscans, must give way to to another, ancient Romans, Lucius is the teen who will make history. Will this future leader of ancient Rome choose a future as priest or warrior? Will he survive a series of tests with fearsome snakes; dagger-wielding priests; and grotesque creatures of only head, no body? Mentored by steady and able elders, Glyph and Logos, Lucius soon finds that the priestly life is just as much warlike as spiritual, and perhaps the two are often one and the same.
What makes this hero's journey unique is the power of words--the grammar--that Lucius learns to wield with an unassailable weapon, the baculum. Taught by Glyph, Lucius masters the craft of magical commands that make doors open, destroy enemies, and break open the portals between life and death. The author David Frauenfelder, a PhD in Latin and a Latin teacher himself, delivers these word lessons deftly without slowing the narrative and always with satisfying results. With well-chosen words, Lucius can do just about anything--fend off ravenous serpents, explode a stone wall, or save a life.
Demetria is Lucius' Greek girl sidekick with spunk and humor. Their relationship is innocent and brave, two youths who build a friendship while romantic tension escalates. This reader needs to see girls who are powerful without being Caryatids; let her do more than serve as architectural support. Demetria does this, and well.
The role that mirrors play in this story is perfect for the target age group. Preteens and teens are mirror obsessed. The power of a glass bearing our own image, where we can see as St. Paul says "darkly" or lightly, threads throughout the story and has sometimes intriguing, sometimes horrible consequences for various characters.
If I could ask for anything more, it would be more history and understanding of the Etruscans and why their civilization gave way to Rome. The long view of what's at stake for Lucius and his fellow Romans isn't always clear, though the immediate threats and dangers will keep any preteen reader committed to the narrative. For those of us who are a bit older and history geeks, a historical fiction author doesn't have to worry about boring us with this kind of fact-heavy background, and so I would invite Frauenfelder to keep teaching in the way he does best--surround the facts with surprising and fast-paced actions, great young heroes, and high stakes. But you can't please all readers, so if Frauenfelder kept the narrative leaner in honor of his younger readers, that's a wise choice.
I'm already committed to reading the sequel and will soon be haranguing Frauenfelder to get that finished!
The Mirror and the Mage is a young adult book – not my usual fodder – but is also a historical fantasy, which is more familiar territory. The story is set in the very early days of the Roman Republic, when the Etruscans were the most significant challengers to the growth of Rome. We follow a youth, Lucius, who wants to serve his king but whose real talents are intellectual. In other cultures he would be a scribe, but his society values Mars more than Mercury. It is a familiar situation for many. Basically, he is a geek trying to survive in the middle of the gang war which was early Roman political life.
Lucius finds a resolution for his dilemma by becoming an apprentice to an old magician, Publius Litterarius. The basis of magic here is partly verbal – you have to get the words correct in both meaning and grammar – and partly resource-based, requiring particular crystals to become effective. Lucius goes through a sense of progressively more complex and dangerous situations as he learns his art. He also, appropriately for a YA book, grapples with personal responsibility and a growing awareness of the other sex.
The book is not just an entertaining story, but aims to be a tool for learning Latin as well. If you want to be like Lucius, you have to learn your grammar! I have to say that I wish I had been taught Latin like this many years ago – like a lot of other people I was simply exposed to lists of word patterns identified by strange names I did not at that stage know from English – accusative, dative, ablative, pluperfect and so on. Nowadays I have a better sense of what these mean, but at the time they were so much phlogiston (and much less fun). I am fairly sure that if I had had the kind of imaginative presentation used in this book, I would have learned to like languages a whole lot earlier.
So The Mirror and the Mage can be read both as a fun story of magical apprenticeship, and a creative teaching aid. Either way I would recommend it if you like YA books, or are contemplating buying one for somebody else.
One of the most popular genres on the book market these days is one of the magical reality sort. In high level literature, you see books and stories by the likes of Gabriel Garcia Marquez—fabulistic, charming pieces. In popular fiction you have the likes of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series, in which the magical moments are expanded, almost to the point of separate worlds. And in what’s generally taken to be non-fiction, you have the Carlos Castaneda books. Frauenfelder seems to be aware of all three sub-genres in The Mirror and The Mage, and he walks an elliptical like that sometimes touches all three.
Lucius Junius Brutus is a young Roman yuppie-type, this is destined for bigger things; he wants to become trained as a warrior, but is obliged to enter the priesthood. He receives such training from two elders, Glyph and Logophilus, who teach him grammar and how to make it physically act in combatting monsters threatening Rome. He taught to use a baculum, or a magical cane (think Moses’ cane, the walking sticks in the Harry Potter series, and other such examples) which, accompanied by the proper use of Latin grammar, can be commanded to do spectacular things. Along with a girl, Demetria, Lucius is able to enter another reality through the device of a mirror. And he does a his quest that involved Glyph, Demetria, and the baculum.
Frauenfelder’s story is ingeniously paced as the elders slowly push Lucius into grave danger—a danger that threatens his and the elders’ well-being—as well as that of Rome. There’s a preoccupation, as Frauenfelder unfurls his story, with Latin grammar that might well annoy casual readers, but I suspect that the author, who teaches Latin to gifted youth, has an agenda here—making Latin and its complex grammar seem less so by unfolding it within his story.