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The Twilight of Magic
In the days when magic was on the wane, a little boy in possession of a magic whispering shell does a service for his young king
243 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1930
About the author
Hugh Lofting
389 books186 followersHugh Lofting was a British author, trained as a civil engineer, who created the character of Doctor Dolittle — one of the classics of children's literature.
Lofting was born in Maidenhead, England, to English and Irish parents. His early education was at Mount St Mary's College in Sheffield, after which he went to the United States, completing a degree in civil engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
He traveled widely as a civil engineer before enlisting in the Irish Guards to serve in World War I. Not wishing to write to his children of the brutality of the war, he wrote imaginative letters that were the foundation of the successful Doctor Dolittle novels for children. Seriously wounded in the war, he moved with his family to Connecticut in the United States. Lofting was married three times and had three children, one of whom, his son Christopher, is the executor of his literary estate.
"For years it was a constant source of shock to me to find my writings amongst 'juveniles,'" Lofting reported. "It does not bother me any more now, but I still feel there should be a category of 'seniles' to offset the epithet."
Doctor Dolittle
Hugh Lofting's doctor from Puddleby-on-the-Marsh who could speak to animals first saw light in the author's illustrated letters to children, written from the trenches during World War I when actual news, he later said, was either too horrible or too dull. The stories are set in early Victorian England, (in and around the 1840s, according to a date given in The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle). The Story of Doctor Dolittle: Being the History of His Peculiar Life at Home and Astonishing Adventures in Foreign Parts Never Before Printed (1920) began the series and won the Lewis Carroll Shelf Award in 1958.The sequel, The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle (1922), won Lofting the prestigious Newbery Medal. Eight more books followed, and after Lofting's death two more volumes, composed of short unpublished pieces, appeared. The series has been adapted for film and television many times, for stage twice, and for radio.
Other Works for Children
The Story of Mrs Tubbs (1923) and Tommy, Tilly, and Mrs. Tubbs (1936) are picture books aimed at a younger audience than the Doctor Dolittle books. They concern the titular old woman, her pets (with whom she can speak) and the animals who help her out of trouble.
Porridge Poetry (1924) is the only non-Dolittle work by Lofting still in print. It is a lighthearted, colorfully illustrated book of poems for children.
Noisy Nora (1929) is a cautionary tale about a girl who is a noisy eater. The book is printed as if hand-written, and the many illustrations often merge with the text.
The Twilight of Magic (1930) is aimed at older readers. It is set in an age when magic is dying and science is beginning. This work is the only one of Lofting's books to be illustrated by another person (Lois Lenski).
Victory for the Slain
Victory for the Slain (1942) is Lofting's only work for adults, a single long poem in seven parts about the futility of war; the refrain "In war the only victors are the slain" permeates the poem. It was published only in the United Kingdom.
Lofting was born in Maidenhead, England, to English and Irish parents. His early education was at Mount St Mary's College in Sheffield, after which he went to the United States, completing a degree in civil engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
He traveled widely as a civil engineer before enlisting in the Irish Guards to serve in World War I. Not wishing to write to his children of the brutality of the war, he wrote imaginative letters that were the foundation of the successful Doctor Dolittle novels for children. Seriously wounded in the war, he moved with his family to Connecticut in the United States. Lofting was married three times and had three children, one of whom, his son Christopher, is the executor of his literary estate.
"For years it was a constant source of shock to me to find my writings amongst 'juveniles,'" Lofting reported. "It does not bother me any more now, but I still feel there should be a category of 'seniles' to offset the epithet."
Doctor Dolittle
Hugh Lofting's doctor from Puddleby-on-the-Marsh who could speak to animals first saw light in the author's illustrated letters to children, written from the trenches during World War I when actual news, he later said, was either too horrible or too dull. The stories are set in early Victorian England, (in and around the 1840s, according to a date given in The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle). The Story of Doctor Dolittle: Being the History of His Peculiar Life at Home and Astonishing Adventures in Foreign Parts Never Before Printed (1920) began the series and won the Lewis Carroll Shelf Award in 1958.The sequel, The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle (1922), won Lofting the prestigious Newbery Medal. Eight more books followed, and after Lofting's death two more volumes, composed of short unpublished pieces, appeared. The series has been adapted for film and television many times, for stage twice, and for radio.
Other Works for Children
The Story of Mrs Tubbs (1923) and Tommy, Tilly, and Mrs. Tubbs (1936) are picture books aimed at a younger audience than the Doctor Dolittle books. They concern the titular old woman, her pets (with whom she can speak) and the animals who help her out of trouble.
Porridge Poetry (1924) is the only non-Dolittle work by Lofting still in print. It is a lighthearted, colorfully illustrated book of poems for children.
Noisy Nora (1929) is a cautionary tale about a girl who is a noisy eater. The book is printed as if hand-written, and the many illustrations often merge with the text.
The Twilight of Magic (1930) is aimed at older readers. It is set in an age when magic is dying and science is beginning. This work is the only one of Lofting's books to be illustrated by another person (Lois Lenski).
Victory for the Slain
Victory for the Slain (1942) is Lofting's only work for adults, a single long poem in seven parts about the futility of war; the refrain "In war the only victors are the slain" permeates the poem. It was published only in the United Kingdom.
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
February 18, 2014
This starts off as a pretty solid children's fantasy in the classic vein (think a less clever and humorous Nesbit, in a medievalish setting). Giles and Anne are nine-year-old twins, the children of a prosperous wagon-wright who, we learn at once, is inexplicably in debt. They decide to seek help from Agnes the Applewoman, even though most of the townsfolk think she is an evil witch because she has cats and psychic powers. They get a Magic Object and have some low key episodic adventures, including a harmlessly haunted inn and a chat with an alchemist. And then...
The book completely shifts. Anne drops out and only reappears briefly years later as a boring grown-up lady. We leave the town for the royal court, years pass in a couple of pages, there's some really undeveloped romance, yawn, the end. Lame.
4 stars for the first half the book (the first three chapters were apparently the only part Lofting had planned ahead of time, according to Lenski's introductory comments about how long she waited for the MS) 2 for the second half. Averaged.
The book completely shifts. Anne drops out and only reappears briefly years later as a boring grown-up lady. We leave the town for the royal court, years pass in a couple of pages, there's some really undeveloped romance, yawn, the end. Lame.
4 stars for the first half the book (the first three chapters were apparently the only part Lofting had planned ahead of time, according to Lenski's introductory comments about how long she waited for the MS) 2 for the second half. Averaged.
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May 16, 2025Charming. Weakly plotted. Charming. Probably the cats inspired Bulgakov’s Behemoth.
Weird to read Lofting text with illustration by Lois Lenski.
Weird to read Lofting text with illustration by Lois Lenski.
November 25, 2012
“Was it the Twilight of Magic? Perhaps. But only today's. Magic could never die while the sun had the power to rise again and man had the wish to seek.”
―The Twilight of Magic, P. 193
Hugh Lofting, to me, is frequently underrated as an author. When he is remembered, it's almost exclusively for the books of the celebrated Doctor Dolittle series, but his writing career encompassed more than just the creation of those classic novels. Hugh Lofting wrote several other good books for younger readers, including Porridge Poetry, Noisy Nora and, of course, this book, The Twilight of Magic. Departing from the well-worn track of his most acclaimed series, The Twilight of Magic is sometimes actually considered young-adult fare, since the main character is in his teens for much of the story. I would still consider it to be solidly identifiable as a junior novel, however, perfect for kids who enjoy the highly engaging brand of adventure that seemed to roll so effortlessly from the tip of Hugh Lofting's pen. He seemed to have an understanding of the thoughts and feelings of his target reader group that not all children's authors can claim, and it never fails to show in his work.
“I suppose once you've been accused of being a witch, you're never really safe. People may blame all sorts of accidents and misfortunes on you.”
―Luke, The Twilight of Magic, P. 84
There's something about the old woman named Agnes that draws nine-year-old twins Giles and Anne to her. This seems odd, as most people in town suspect Agnes of witchcraft, and the formation of a lynch mob to track her down and get rid of her never seems all that far away. Yet Giles and his sister go to meet with Agnes at her house, anyway, when their parents' financial straits become so irreconcilable that calamity appears inevitable. The suspected witch is willing to help them, so it seems, and entrusts a most peculiar magical seashell to the twin siblings with the promise that if they use it properly in assistance to the person in the land who needs it most, it will help solve their family's money problems and grant them a chance at real peace.
Assisted by a friend or two in low places whom he never would have thought to consult apart from the ameliorating influence of Agnes, Giles steps forward boldly into the path of the young King of the land, himself, asserting that he has a gift for the regent that could change his life forever. For the shell given to Giles by Agnes is a magical talisman that grows warm whenever anyone anywhere is talking about the person who possesses it. By holding it up to one's ear, one can then listen to what is being said about him- or herself, an enablement that comes greatly in handy for a ruler such as the young King. Even as he marches with his posse of knights and royal guards on this beautiful day, the King discovers by listening to the shell that a plot is being hatched against him by one of his most trusted noblemen, the Duke, a deadly plan that requires swift action if the crown is to be saved.
While at this point in the story it appears the battle with the Duke will be the narrative's main focus, such a line of action does not materialize as one might expect. Though he is just nine years old at the time of his first great service to the King, Giles ascends to become one of the most powerful young men in the kingdom as his reputation for finding lost things grows. The young King continues to rely on Giles to help him stamp out clandestine rebellion and secret plots against the King each time they arise, and such plots aren't likely to end anytime soon as long as the King wears the crown. The moral questions and challenges of the listening shell are often wrestled with by the King and his Finder, too. Is it acceptable for a leader to eavesdrop on his people's private conversations, even if it is only to short-circuit assassination plots and help preserve the political stability of the land? Does the fact that the shell is a magical talisman change anything, or is it still domestic spying as surely as if the King had ordered the implantation of listening devices in his subjects' homes? And what is he to say when he overhears others speaking badly of his name, lying about him to drive home an angry point or misconstruing his royal policies to people who hear what is said and believe it? How can the King pretend he hasn't heard these conversations the next time he must address the involved parties? There is, however, much good accomplished by the King because of his ability to listen in on the conversations funneled through the shell, and this must also be considered. Sometimes, words his subjects or other leaders might never have the nerve to speak directly to the King are said to others, and by overhearing the complaints spoken about himself, which are sometimes quite fair in nature and raise valid points, the King learns to soften his approach at the right moments and grant leniency toward those who previously might have seemed to exist for no reason but to stand in the way of peace and happiness in the kingdom. By listening always, the King becomes a better ruler than any who preceded him, all because of the magic of the shell. It certainly does provide an ethical conundrum, though, for the King and his trusted Finder.
“(S)ome people you will always have about you whom you can trust, and no man these days can boast of more than that. Remember them; forget the others.”
―Giles, The Twilight of Magic, PP. 156-157
When a shared object of affections comes between the King and Giles, the road to Happily Ever After suddenly becomes a whole lot longer and more pocked by unexpected detours. At a time in history when belief in magic is on the wane and a more pragmatic age of reason is beginning to blossom, Giles will still rely on the old magic to point him in the right direction to find the King's most valuable commodity of all. For the first time, though, if Giles does not want to carry out his task for the King, will the magic still work? As friendship and love conflict like warring winds in a tornado, Giles will strain against his deeper feelings in an effort to stay loyal to the one who saved his family and made him what he is today. But in the end, will the choice to relinquish the one he loves to the King even be Giles's to make?
There are great lines to be found all through The Twilight of Magic; Hugh Lofting never did leave his young readers without a few thoughts to consider once the story was finished, and that is evident throughout this book. "People are nearly always afraid of what they can't understand―except the brave ones, maybe", Giles says to his sister early on in the story, talking about the people's fear of Agnes. Then there's the response of wise Geoffrey the Gypsy when Giles asks him if he believes in magic: "Why―er―yes...But don't forget, a whole lot passes for magic with us which is simple enough to birds and beasts. Every day something we thought had the Devil in it is shown to be naught more than our own simpleminded ignorance. 'Must be magic,' says man as soon as he grows tired of trying to understand a thing." And who could forget nine-year-old Giles's decrying of the impracticality of the magic of most fairy tales? "People in fairy tales never tell you much. They just say, for instance, 'Take this ring, put it on your father's finger, and he'll turn into a black swan.' They never tell you who's going to feed him or where you're going to get a lake for him to swim in. You can just take your choice: your father or a black swan. No, people who deal in magic don't talk much." I suppose there's just too much mystery behind magic to explain every detail about it. Giles doesn't receive any real explanations of the magic in this book, either, and like all protagonists in fairy tales, he'll have to find a way to work with what is revealed to him.
The Twilight of Magic is an interesting and entertaining story, different from what I'd been expecting. Hugh Lofting's novels are always like that, though, as fresh and uncanny years after their initial publication as they were to the kids who gladly received the books when they were brand new contributions to the world of literature. I'm glad The Twilight of Magic has shown some staying power with publishing companies, and I hope other kids find it and enjoy the story of an era when even though widespread belief in magic was beginning to fade, it still had a few people left to save, some future life courses to set in the right direction. I would likely give two and a half stars to The Twilight of Magic, and I recommend it to anyone who has loved any of Hugh Lofting's other books.
―The Twilight of Magic, P. 193
Hugh Lofting, to me, is frequently underrated as an author. When he is remembered, it's almost exclusively for the books of the celebrated Doctor Dolittle series, but his writing career encompassed more than just the creation of those classic novels. Hugh Lofting wrote several other good books for younger readers, including Porridge Poetry, Noisy Nora and, of course, this book, The Twilight of Magic. Departing from the well-worn track of his most acclaimed series, The Twilight of Magic is sometimes actually considered young-adult fare, since the main character is in his teens for much of the story. I would still consider it to be solidly identifiable as a junior novel, however, perfect for kids who enjoy the highly engaging brand of adventure that seemed to roll so effortlessly from the tip of Hugh Lofting's pen. He seemed to have an understanding of the thoughts and feelings of his target reader group that not all children's authors can claim, and it never fails to show in his work.
“I suppose once you've been accused of being a witch, you're never really safe. People may blame all sorts of accidents and misfortunes on you.”
―Luke, The Twilight of Magic, P. 84
There's something about the old woman named Agnes that draws nine-year-old twins Giles and Anne to her. This seems odd, as most people in town suspect Agnes of witchcraft, and the formation of a lynch mob to track her down and get rid of her never seems all that far away. Yet Giles and his sister go to meet with Agnes at her house, anyway, when their parents' financial straits become so irreconcilable that calamity appears inevitable. The suspected witch is willing to help them, so it seems, and entrusts a most peculiar magical seashell to the twin siblings with the promise that if they use it properly in assistance to the person in the land who needs it most, it will help solve their family's money problems and grant them a chance at real peace.
Assisted by a friend or two in low places whom he never would have thought to consult apart from the ameliorating influence of Agnes, Giles steps forward boldly into the path of the young King of the land, himself, asserting that he has a gift for the regent that could change his life forever. For the shell given to Giles by Agnes is a magical talisman that grows warm whenever anyone anywhere is talking about the person who possesses it. By holding it up to one's ear, one can then listen to what is being said about him- or herself, an enablement that comes greatly in handy for a ruler such as the young King. Even as he marches with his posse of knights and royal guards on this beautiful day, the King discovers by listening to the shell that a plot is being hatched against him by one of his most trusted noblemen, the Duke, a deadly plan that requires swift action if the crown is to be saved.
While at this point in the story it appears the battle with the Duke will be the narrative's main focus, such a line of action does not materialize as one might expect. Though he is just nine years old at the time of his first great service to the King, Giles ascends to become one of the most powerful young men in the kingdom as his reputation for finding lost things grows. The young King continues to rely on Giles to help him stamp out clandestine rebellion and secret plots against the King each time they arise, and such plots aren't likely to end anytime soon as long as the King wears the crown. The moral questions and challenges of the listening shell are often wrestled with by the King and his Finder, too. Is it acceptable for a leader to eavesdrop on his people's private conversations, even if it is only to short-circuit assassination plots and help preserve the political stability of the land? Does the fact that the shell is a magical talisman change anything, or is it still domestic spying as surely as if the King had ordered the implantation of listening devices in his subjects' homes? And what is he to say when he overhears others speaking badly of his name, lying about him to drive home an angry point or misconstruing his royal policies to people who hear what is said and believe it? How can the King pretend he hasn't heard these conversations the next time he must address the involved parties? There is, however, much good accomplished by the King because of his ability to listen in on the conversations funneled through the shell, and this must also be considered. Sometimes, words his subjects or other leaders might never have the nerve to speak directly to the King are said to others, and by overhearing the complaints spoken about himself, which are sometimes quite fair in nature and raise valid points, the King learns to soften his approach at the right moments and grant leniency toward those who previously might have seemed to exist for no reason but to stand in the way of peace and happiness in the kingdom. By listening always, the King becomes a better ruler than any who preceded him, all because of the magic of the shell. It certainly does provide an ethical conundrum, though, for the King and his trusted Finder.
“(S)ome people you will always have about you whom you can trust, and no man these days can boast of more than that. Remember them; forget the others.”
―Giles, The Twilight of Magic, PP. 156-157
When a shared object of affections comes between the King and Giles, the road to Happily Ever After suddenly becomes a whole lot longer and more pocked by unexpected detours. At a time in history when belief in magic is on the wane and a more pragmatic age of reason is beginning to blossom, Giles will still rely on the old magic to point him in the right direction to find the King's most valuable commodity of all. For the first time, though, if Giles does not want to carry out his task for the King, will the magic still work? As friendship and love conflict like warring winds in a tornado, Giles will strain against his deeper feelings in an effort to stay loyal to the one who saved his family and made him what he is today. But in the end, will the choice to relinquish the one he loves to the King even be Giles's to make?
There are great lines to be found all through The Twilight of Magic; Hugh Lofting never did leave his young readers without a few thoughts to consider once the story was finished, and that is evident throughout this book. "People are nearly always afraid of what they can't understand―except the brave ones, maybe", Giles says to his sister early on in the story, talking about the people's fear of Agnes. Then there's the response of wise Geoffrey the Gypsy when Giles asks him if he believes in magic: "Why―er―yes...But don't forget, a whole lot passes for magic with us which is simple enough to birds and beasts. Every day something we thought had the Devil in it is shown to be naught more than our own simpleminded ignorance. 'Must be magic,' says man as soon as he grows tired of trying to understand a thing." And who could forget nine-year-old Giles's decrying of the impracticality of the magic of most fairy tales? "People in fairy tales never tell you much. They just say, for instance, 'Take this ring, put it on your father's finger, and he'll turn into a black swan.' They never tell you who's going to feed him or where you're going to get a lake for him to swim in. You can just take your choice: your father or a black swan. No, people who deal in magic don't talk much." I suppose there's just too much mystery behind magic to explain every detail about it. Giles doesn't receive any real explanations of the magic in this book, either, and like all protagonists in fairy tales, he'll have to find a way to work with what is revealed to him.
The Twilight of Magic is an interesting and entertaining story, different from what I'd been expecting. Hugh Lofting's novels are always like that, though, as fresh and uncanny years after their initial publication as they were to the kids who gladly received the books when they were brand new contributions to the world of literature. I'm glad The Twilight of Magic has shown some staying power with publishing companies, and I hope other kids find it and enjoy the story of an era when even though widespread belief in magic was beginning to fade, it still had a few people left to save, some future life courses to set in the right direction. I would likely give two and a half stars to The Twilight of Magic, and I recommend it to anyone who has loved any of Hugh Lofting's other books.
December 16, 2025
Some of the reviews on Goodreads meant I started out with low expectations for this book, and maybe that was a good thing because it meant I couldn't be disappointed but was instead pleasantly surprised by how satisfying it turned out to be. An engaging and well-told story from start to finish. It would make great bedtime stories for children with its thirty-three short chapters. I think it would have been nicer if Lofting had illustrated it himself as Lenski's illustrations did nothing to enhance the story. The story itself is full of charm and interest and atmosphere and I loved it. A thoroughly enjoyable read, not far off being worth five stars perhaps.
July 16, 2018
Ok extended fairy-tale, but not in the realm of MacDonald, much less Thurber. Weirdly low level of thematic interest in the moral implications of surveillance with regards to the central magical object (contrast the magician's book episode in Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the Ring of Polycrates, etc.). This would be fun for a young reader to push back against, I think. As others have said, the first half is stronger than the second.
June 1, 2018
3-1/2 stars. I enjoyed reading this, but I can't say I really think it fulfilled the promise of how it began. It became a little too formulaic and kind of fizzled out at the end. Too bad, it had some good characters and interesting premises.
March 29, 2025
Интересно, когда перечитываешь книгу из детства, и обнаруживешь, что единственная сцена, которую ты помнила, и про которую казалось, что вокруг нее вся история закручена, это совершенно проходная глава, не влиявшая на сюжет от слова никак.
January 24, 2020
3.5 stars
September 19, 2009
4+, so close to a 5.
Not at all part of the Doolittle series, this middle grade fantasy is really two books in one. the first features twins Giles and Anne at age 10 who enlist the aid of an old woman appleseller (who may or maynot be a witch). She provides them with a magic 'whispering' shell to help save their parents from crushing debt and save the kingdom from traitors.
Book two focuses on Giles from age 10 to 19 in service to the king as his "finder" and ends with a riff on the Tristan and Isolde tale.
black and white illustrations by and early in her career Lois Lenski.
Not at all part of the Doolittle series, this middle grade fantasy is really two books in one. the first features twins Giles and Anne at age 10 who enlist the aid of an old woman appleseller (who may or maynot be a witch). She provides them with a magic 'whispering' shell to help save their parents from crushing debt and save the kingdom from traitors.
Book two focuses on Giles from age 10 to 19 in service to the king as his "finder" and ends with a riff on the Tristan and Isolde tale.
black and white illustrations by and early in her career Lois Lenski.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 10, 2010
A charming tale in a medieval setting. Recommended for young readers interested in pointed hats and magnificent horses.
April 15, 2010
cute story.
May 10, 2013
Hugh Lofting was seriously wounded in the Great War, he's the philosopher on the beach. In it's way this is as surreal as Alice and the nostalgia for something before science drives the magic.
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October 11, 2014Tõeliselt armas muinasjutt
June 2, 2016
Armas ja täitsa mõnus lastele lugeda :)
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews