The Book Without Words_ A Fable of Medieval Magic - Avi [53]
GLOSSARY
ALCHEMY: a medieval science devoted to the transformation of base metals into gold, the discovery of the cure for all disease, and the discovery of a means for indefinitely prolonging life
APOTHECARY: one who prepares and sells medicines
BRAZIER: a pan for holding burning coals
FULWORTH: a fictional town in Northumbria
MANX CAT: a breed of cat distinguished most by its lack of a tail
MONASTERY: a house for members of a religious order
MONK: a man who is a member of a religious order
MORTAR AND PESTLE: tools of an apothecary for the preparation of medicines
NORTHUMBRIA: one of the ancient realms of Britain, often besieged by the Vikings. Northumbria lies in modern-day northern England
REEVE: a local administrator of an Anglo-Saxon king (the word “sheriff” derives from “shire reeve”)
SPIKENARD: a fragrant ointment of the ancients
AN INTERVIEW WITH AVI
What was most challenging about writing this book?
This was an extraordinarily difficult book to write due to a number of things. It had to do with, in part, one of my first thoughts on winning the Newbery: the next one must really be good! Then I showed my publisher the book too quickly—I do so many revisions and so many changes. For example, when I first wrote Crispin: The Cross of Lead, there was no lead cross in the story.
Since the rewriting is so important, what is the most vital thing you added late in the process?
It now opens with a proverb—“A life unlived is like a book without words.” That was the last thing I wrote.
You describe the book as a fable. Why?
It is not a novel. It meets all the qualifications to be a fable: it is moral, fantastical, the animals speak.
How is this fable similar to historical fiction, like Crispin: The Cross of Lead?
Fantasy is very close to historical fiction. You have to create a physical reality and sensibility that is fairly complete. Fantastic realism, as a term, has always appealed to me. While I admire the fantasy, I find it more interesting to embed the fantasy within the context of reality. In terms of my readers, it’s a little easier to absorb a notion that’s also domestic, rather than castles and flying beasts and that sort.
How did you come up with the character names in The Book Without Words?
Names are so powerful in a story, particularly when you write this kind of story that derives from a specific period. Sybil is such a pretty name and for the heroine, I wanted something slightly esoteric but not terribly difficult. I have books of names and I check them. Alfric has a hint of magic about him. And yes, the suggestion of Alfred the Great was deliberate. Saint Elfleda is a real person, of course.
How did you come up with the title of the book?
The Book Without Words—it seemed fun. It’s a contradiction. It’s not my phrase—when I was reading up on alchemy, I found references to a book without words that was deliberately fraudulent. It’s like someone saying, “Since you can’t read it and I can, that’s proof it’s magic.”
Have you ever seen something like a book without words?
Years and years ago I came across a book that I’ve always regretted I never bought. It was by an Italian who created this incredibly illustrated book and invented an alphabet. Every page was covered with this invented alphabet but no real words.
Yes, it’s kind of like the emperor’s new clothes. And there’s plenty of humor in The Book Without Words as well.
The central part of the book is the first burial scene: it’s both funny and awful at the same point. And Odo (the talking raven) was especially fun to write about. His proverbs are so witty and Oscar Wilde-like. In fact, the book as a whole seems like it could easily be dramatized. It’s very theatrical