A Short artikel on First Reading Pawn of Prophecy
Rather than try to recapitulate the plot of stylistically analyse the novel I put vooruit, voorwaarts the impact that a first encounter with Eddings had upon an eleven jaar old boy.
Absent from school through sickness on a friday morning back in 1991 I picked up an arrestingly covered book that I had borrowed from the school bibliotheek a couple of days previously. Under the aegis of a duvet I still remember the sense of thrill and wonder that ran through me as Garion and Rundorig reenacted Brand the Rivan Warden and Torak's duel at the Battle of Vo Mimbre. I still feel the hair on the back of my neck rise at Mr Wolf's mesmerising and haunting tale of the goud seekers driven mad door the tortured ghosts of Maragor. There was also the sense of familiarity struck door the relationship of Garion with his playmates and their earnest rivalry for the coquettish Zubrette. Reading it as a child the empathy with Garion at the seemingly unjust and downright illogical behaviour of one's elders is felt all the meer keenly.
The subsequent journey through the misty villages and towns of Sendaria and the sailing to the ancient Cherek capital of Val Alorn captivated me like nothing before and my first encounters with Garion's companions Silk and Barak felt like a forging of new friendships.
Judging door his own commentaren David Eddings was always very self effacing about the style and substance of his writing. He joked that he was never in danger of winning the Nobel Prize for literature and that his main concern was teaching a generation of two how to read. However nearly two decades on from opening this book he is still the auteur that I turn back to when I wish to recapture that sense of innocence, wonder and possibility which is the province of childhood dreams and somehow it is like being back on Faldor's farm for the first time again and deep down its friday morning and I am eleven once more.
Thankyou David Eddings and May u Rest In Peace.
Rather than try to recapitulate the plot of stylistically analyse the novel I put vooruit, voorwaarts the impact that a first encounter with Eddings had upon an eleven jaar old boy.
Absent from school through sickness on a friday morning back in 1991 I picked up an arrestingly covered book that I had borrowed from the school bibliotheek a couple of days previously. Under the aegis of a duvet I still remember the sense of thrill and wonder that ran through me as Garion and Rundorig reenacted Brand the Rivan Warden and Torak's duel at the Battle of Vo Mimbre. I still feel the hair on the back of my neck rise at Mr Wolf's mesmerising and haunting tale of the goud seekers driven mad door the tortured ghosts of Maragor. There was also the sense of familiarity struck door the relationship of Garion with his playmates and their earnest rivalry for the coquettish Zubrette. Reading it as a child the empathy with Garion at the seemingly unjust and downright illogical behaviour of one's elders is felt all the meer keenly.
The subsequent journey through the misty villages and towns of Sendaria and the sailing to the ancient Cherek capital of Val Alorn captivated me like nothing before and my first encounters with Garion's companions Silk and Barak felt like a forging of new friendships.
Judging door his own commentaren David Eddings was always very self effacing about the style and substance of his writing. He joked that he was never in danger of winning the Nobel Prize for literature and that his main concern was teaching a generation of two how to read. However nearly two decades on from opening this book he is still the auteur that I turn back to when I wish to recapture that sense of innocence, wonder and possibility which is the province of childhood dreams and somehow it is like being back on Faldor's farm for the first time again and deep down its friday morning and I am eleven once more.
Thankyou David Eddings and May u Rest In Peace.
