January 19, 2007

• Howard Pyle & N.C. Wyeth

   

  Illustration from  Robin Hood and Little John
  

         by N.C. Wyeth, pupil of Howard Pyle

  “No book is really worth reading at the age of ten which is not equally (and often far more) worth reading at the age of fifty–except, of course, books of information.  The only imaginative works we ought to grow out of are those which it would have been better not to have read at all.”    ~  C.S. Lewis

  In the preface to Robin Hood, Howard Pyle gives us an upside-down Lemony Snicket warning:

  “You who so plod amid serious things that you feel it shame to give
  yourself up even for a few short moments to mirth and joyousness in the
  land of Fancy; you who think that life hath nought to do with innocent
  laughter that can harm no one; these pages are not for you. Clap to the
  leaves and go no farther than this, for I tell you plainly that if you
  go farther you will be scandalized by seeing good, sober folks of real
  history so frisk and caper in gay colors and motley that you would not
  know them but for the names tagged to them.”

  Was Robin Hood homeschooled?  Are not these good goals for our sons?
   

  “She taught him to read and write,
  to doff his cap without awkwardness,
  and to answer directly and truthfully both lord and peasant.”

  Perhaps Pyle is better known for his illustrating than his writing.  He left an immense legacy in the students he taught, referred to as  the “Brandywine School”: including N.C. Wyeth, Maxfield Parrish, and Jessie Wilcox Smith.  Reading Robin Hood has been a delight with a turn of phrase jumping off the page at regular intervals: 

  They feasted royally, and clinked each other’s cups,
  until the sun had ceased to print the pattern of the leaves
  upon the forest carpet.
  
  It was a day so brimful of quiet joy that the two friends lay flat on their backs,
  gazing up at the scurrying clouds,
  and neither caring to break the silence.
  
  [He] boot-licked his way to favour.

  …but she was delightfully disappointed.

  …and the merry chatter of the people went abroad
  like the hum of bees in a hive.

  The winter dragged its weary length through the Sherwood Forest…

  So away went the Sheriff …and cudgelled his brain
  on the way home for some plan of action.

  “Mine is a simple nature and I care not
  for the fripperies and follies of court life.
  Give me a good meal and cup of right brew,
  health, and enough for the day, and I ask no more.”
  ~ Richard sighed. “You ask the greatest thing
  in the world, brother–contentment.
  It is not mine to give or to deny.
  But ask your God for it, and if belike He grant it,
  then ask it also in behalf of your King.”

  • 11:39 am
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