By Michela A. Calderaro
There
are plenty of things most of us parents would like to pass on to our children, yet
we are seldom certain how we should go about it. Sure, we could set an example
for them, respect their opinions, leave them enough space to develop on their
own. But you can also sit at their bedside and read to them.
A
very fine book to read before bedtime, or at any other hour of the day, is Marcus and the Amazons - the story of a
young ant, Marcus, on a journey of self discovery that leads him, as part of
the process, to become his people’s savior.
Marcus,
who goes to the forest and comes back a different being, is summoned to save
the village from a terrible peril, must make weighty choices and fight a battle
with instruments that are alien to his own companions.
Marcus’s
journey is more than a mere walk from his village to the forest and back. More than
a youth bildungsroman. One might call it a journey
through history. As Marcus’s story unfolds in front of us, we see a parallel
tale of world history.
Interweaving
“history” and “story,” especially in a children book, is not an easy task. But
Geoffrey Philp succeeds in blending the specific and the universal with outstanding
skill: historic moments are told as parts of a personal story of one child
narrating it to another, in a language that is easily accessible to kids.
Indeed, the book can be read on various levels
and from different perspectives, making the reading enjoyable for both children
and grownups. While children will no doubt be holding their breath in
expectation for the next plot twist, to learn how Marcus, the new champion of a
non-violence creed, will lead his people to regain control of their village,
adults are certain to find pleasure in detecting historical or classical references.
Such
historical references – to Queen Victoria and the British Empire, the
enslavement of whole peoples and the setting of a colonial rule – are reflected
here in the fictional Amazons Empire and their
own Queen Victoria. Other references one is likely to consider are Martin
Luther King’s “Million Man March” on Washington, and the contrast between white
men and enslaved Africans. These of course are the most obvious historical
references, but there are others.
Indeed,
the captives’ passivity cannot but remind one of other people that were
captured and enslaved, tortured and slaughtered over the centuries. Here, the Formicas’ passive acceptance of
their fate immediately calls to mind the passivity of oblivious Jews paraded to
the gas chambers.
But
beside the obvious parallel reflection on certain historical events, the novel
is sprinkled with literary and classical references – such as the story of
Orpheus and Eurydice, or the biblical tragedy of Cain and Abel, to mention just
a couple (in Marcus and the Amazons,
however, the hero frees his loved one from death, and the two brothers reconcile).
The
book follows the tradition of great children literature. An obvious example would
be Luc Besson’s Arthur et les Minimoys
(Arthur and the Invisibles). In Besson’s just as in Philp’s story we find a
peaceful people dominated by brutes. On the one hand the Minimoys are crushed by
frivolous humans while on the other they are oppressed by the brute force of
their archenemy.
We may notice other literary intertextual connections with
animated films like Antz and A Bug’s Life, but the quest for freedom in
Philp’s book is based on far more solid moral ethics, and victory is achieved
just because of these superior values – rather than due to a superior
maverick’s ingenuity.
The themes explored here are themes accessible
to children yet of universal importance.
It is indeed surprising how so many themes can be packed into such a slim
book and with such effective results.
Marcus
teaches something completely new to both the Formicas and the Amazons: that violence
does not pay; that appearances can be misleading; that not complying with the
mainstream line of thinking can sometimes be the winning choice; that
friendship and trust can lead to bridging the differences among different peoples; and
that pride can become our worst enemy.
Reality
and fantasy are mixed, while questions are posed about who we are, where we
belong and from where our roots draw the vital sap and feed our minds. The
answer is not always simple, but Philp subtly presents the question leaving us
to figure it out for ourselves.
About Michela A. Calderaro
Michela A. Calderaro, an
Associate Editor of Calabash. A Journal of Caribbean Arts and Letters, now
published on line, teaches English and Postcolonial Literature at the
University of Trieste (Italy). Ms Calderaro, whose critical works include a
book on Ford Madox Ford and numerous articles on British and Caribbean writers,
has just finished editing a collection of unpublished poems by Creole writer
Eliot Bliss and plans to complete Bliss’s biography by the end of 2012.
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