| Title | : | The Lost Prince |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 0140367543 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780140367546 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 336 |
| Publication | : | First published January 1, 1915 |
The Lost Prince Reviews
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An excellent read, though maybe a little clean and tidy by modern standards. For once Burnett has given her protagonist a loving parent, if perhaps a little too good to be true. The elements of Eastern religion are woven into the story in an interesting way, and it's nice to see a story focused on non-white non-Western characters (Marco and his father Stefan are from the fictional East European country of Samavia, which was small but happy and prosperous until it fell into civil war). I suspect that might have been unusual in Burnett's day.
I found myself wishing this had been written for adults. I'd have liked to see the themes explored in a fuller, more complex way, and the relationships -- both between the two boys, Marco and The Rat, and between Marco and his father -- followed into Marco's adulthood. There was room for a LOT of expansion in both cases.
The book is part swashbuckling adventure, part meditation on leadership/friendship/patriotism, part object lesson on how much potential goes unused for lack of education, and part illustration of the resilience of childhood. The Rat in particular is a fascinating character, unlike any other I've encountered in a children's book: fierce, proud, a kind of military savant whose innate expertise is recognized even by Marco's father, desperate for a mentor and a purpose to his life.
(Warning: The Wikipedia article on this book has a summary of the entire plot including the ending, so don't go there if you don't want spoilers!) -
Marco is a 12 year old boy raised by his father and his father's devoted servant. They live in dingy little rented rooms that are visited by secretive gentlemen. They travel constantly, and Marco has been trained since birth to pass as a native of any of the countries in Europe. When a crisis hits, Marco needs all of his training and devotion to his father.
This is a romantic tale, not in the sense of love but in the sense that it's a fantasy of how European feudalism works, a bit like The Prisoner of Zenda crossed with the Scarlet Pimpernell. The men are all Real Men, women are Real Women, and all the classes instinctively know and hold to Their Place. The lower classes feel an innate, uncontrollable devotion to those who should justly rule them. The upper classes are natural leaders, who always know the right thing to do. Marco's every word and movement betrays him as someone who should be obeyed. Supposedly, people's eyes follow him down the street and they exclaim in wonder at his regal bearing. (His lower class friend, by the way, literally begs to be allowed to polish his boots.)
This is basically the boy's version of
The Little Princess, except that Marco is macho where Sarah is girly. In both, they are big-eyed children with thick dark hair who are devoted to their papas. They are characterized by their imaginations, high intelligence, bravery, and innate poise. After a childhood spent accepting service as their natural due, cruel and foolish people force them into isolation and poverty. And yet, their inborn abilities allow them to rise above those who would destroy them, and they triumph in the end by being richer and more powerful than before. Even complete strangers are excited by their triumph, because they so obviously, naturally deserve wealth and power.
I found it all revolting. I'm used to the gender essentialism in Burnett, but she really goes all out in her classism. It's such an obvious, contrived fantasy, and I really lost all patience for it early on. I probably could have borne it better if Marco hadn't been so perfect (even Sarah Crewe gets a moment of frustration--but Marco always thinks and does the right thing), if the big plot twist -
Yes, I have been trying to figure out exactly what has been textually bothering me so very much and so intensely with regard to Frances Hodgson Burnett's 1915 Ruritanian middle grade novel The Lost Prince that I ended up so massively bored and so hugely frustrated with a sizeable majority of Hodgson Burnett's featured story I was mostly just skimming and not really finding The Lost Prince all that engaging and enjoyable a personal reading experience (because from the synopsis of The Lost Prince, the presented tale should really be fun and entertaining, but well, something just grates on me even even with all that adventure and with me finding the friendship between main protagonist Marco Loristan and London street urchin The Rat sweet and delightful).
And yes, I do believe that I have finally managed to put my proverbial finger on it so to speak. For indeed and certainly, it is the to and for me rather inescapable fact of the matter that The Lost Prince features (in my humble opinion) a majorly fantastical and fairly tale like characterization for in particular the so-called lost prince of Samavia, for living incognito in London, England Marco Loristan which has quite majorly turned me off of The Lost Prince.
As even though the mostly London, England (and a few other areas of continental Europe) late 19th to early 20th century settings of The Lost Prince (in other words the geographic and historical sense of physical and geographic time and place) are and read realistic enough, in my opinion, how Frances Hodgson Burnett is depicting and describing especially Marco Loristan, this is at best for and to me more than a trifle annoying, unrealistic and even downright silly, with me in particular finding that Marco constantly being described as somehow representing rather both physical and mental beauty and perfection by Hodgson Burnett (and of course and naturally because he is of noble birth, because Marco Loristan is of princely stock and thus he automatically is something and someone inherently special and above and beyond everyone else because of this) rather hugely and majorly annoying.
For indeed, the way Marco Loristan textually appears within the pages of The Lost Prince, it renders Marco into some kind of perfect and inherently positive fairy tale hero who is though because of this seeming perfection and "doing no wrong" feeling totally unrelatable for me (and in no way a kindred spirit) and also much less interesting than for example flawed and needing to change their attitudes Colin Craven and Mary Lennox from Frances Hodgson Burnett’s brilliant and wonderful novel The Secret Garden (where I really could relate to Colin and Mary’s struggles and their emotional issues, while Marco Loristan's faultless and flawless demeanour, physicality and intelligence in The Lost Prince just makes him unapproachable, makes Marco even when incognito and in hiding still a total prince and everyone else, including me as a reader just typical peasants, and which then also renders The Lost Prince into a novel of intense classicist attitudes, and where Frances Hodgson Burnett clearly would want us to believe that even if and when in disguise, princes, members of the nobility are by the simple fact of their “exalted” births and backgrounds above and beyond, much better than those socially below and subservient to them). -
Perhaps my estimate of the this book is influenced by how emotionally connected I am to the characters so settle in for a bit of a story.
When I first read this book it was simply because I knew to increase my vocabulary I needed to read classics as they tended to have more stimulating vocabulary that the other books in the sections of the library for my fellow 8th graders. I, being tired of finding books that bored me senseless, was rather wary of starting The Lost Prince. As I began the book I noticed that Marco, our young protagonist, was 12 just like me. I thought to myself how lucky this was that I was reading about someone my age instead of reading about 19 year old girls being married off to some 50 year old man or random white men who did random white men things. Of course as I say this I know full well that some of my favorite classics have plots like this but still, it was refreshing to read about someone as young as I was who held the same fascination with the world as I did. Little did I know, this refreshment would soon turn into loyalty and love that only someone who truly falls in love with books can understand. To read The Lost Prince as an 8th grader who feels like they have no place in the world and to find that there is life and beauty and deep passion and loyalty that can be found through storytelling and travel and the desire to commit your everything to the cause of truth was like taking in a deep breath of fresh air for the first time. After I started to realize that this book was like this, I practically absorbed the words by sucking in every sentence. The amount of times that the bell rang at school or my mom called me to dinner and I didn't hear because I was high in the mountains or low in the slums of England are too many to count.
However, there is more to my adoration that my simple love of connecting to a character just that time that I read it. It was hardly a thought that I even imagined to be odd until I stepped back and analyzed what I had said the second time I read The Lost Prince. It was quite a while after the first time reading it because I read the Harry Potter Series which led me into a whole new bunch of books. I was 13 when I read The Lost Prince the second time. As I opened the book I remember thinking distinctly, "Oh Marco has turned 13! It's been so long, I wonder how he's doing!" It was not until I continued reading and read that he was, in fact, still 12 that I realized that this character did not grow alongside me. That thought shocked me for some odd reason. Then I realized that Frances Hodgson Burnett had created a character that I related to so fully and loved so deeply that I actually expected him to age with me (completely ignoring the fact that The Lost Prince was definitely not set in 2012). That had never... NEVER... happened before. And keep in mind that I was, and still am, and avid reader. That feeling that you know someone so well that when they speak you can feel the same fire burning in your own chest is a feeling that breaks down the idea that a book is an object. It is a life that bleeds into your own. It is a passion that ignites a fire in your breast and puts life in your veins. I am 17 now and even writing this review makes me fall in love with this book all over again.
So basically for the tl;dr version: this book is freakin' amazing and you should read it because the values are fantastic and Marco and Rat are precious and Marco's father is so awe inspiring and you will want to walk around and be just as awesome as them after you read it... yeah... -
Thanks to Librivox.org and Susan Umpleby, the reader, for this audiobook version of a classic. I bought a copy of the (abridged) paperback edition and read it several years ago. Librivox has recorded the complete, uncut edition which includes a great deal more philosophy and mysticism than the paperback. I usually hate abridged editions, but this time I think they were onto a good thing. Burnett was a follower of Christian Science (which is neither Christian, nor science, as is often the way of such things). Many of the pronouncements about "the One" and the "two laws" that she puts in the mouth of "the old buddhist" on the hilltop are actually rewordings of CS doctrines.
Published in 1915, the book draws on contemporary events in the Balkan nations. Growing up in the Midwest in the 1960s, I remember an overpass on the way out of my small rural town was painted with the phrase "Croatia must be free." Asking my elder brother, a soldier, who Croatia was and why he was in prison led to an interesting conversation! But I digress, as I am wont to do.The conversation stuck with me and helped me understand the book. Apart from its historical roots, there is also a definite messianic/second-coming feel to the story, with its Lost Prince of Samavia that is eagerly awaited for 500 years by the Secret Party who meet in caves (catacombs, anyone?). Two young boys, Marco Loristan who is a Samavian patriot, and the Rat, his East End London companion. Marco is very much a Gary Stu, as is his famous father (famous among the secret supporters of Samavia, anyway). His very face and deportment give him away as Someone Special, not to mention his prodigious memory, ability to speak at least 10 languages and control his reactions, physical prowess, and oh yeah--talent for drawing. However, he doesn't have much "street smarts" (odd, having grown up living in bad lodgings in backstreets all over Europe) so he needs the Rat. Why, you ask? Well because these two boys, both about 12, are off on a secret mission to spread the message of the Lost Prince's second coming. The Rat is lame, but that doesn't stop him for a moment! Also, though we are repeatedly told that the Rat (sorry, he's never given another name) can't speak anything but English, somehow he manages to participate in conversations in other languages, particularly Samavian, and particularly toward the end.
I would say that kids about the age of the two boys might enjoy the adventure story, but do give them the abridged version. All the mystic waffle doesn't add much and they'd probably be turned off by it. Apart from that, it's very much a pro-royalist Boys' Own Adventure Story, though the term "patriot" reads very differently today than it did when this was written. I found the foreshadowing obvious in the extreme, but kids probably wouldn't. -
Okay, so this book is in many respects mediocre and completely obvious, but it is a hilariously good time.
(Possibly it is only so hilarious because it is obvious to everyone except the titular lost prince who he is.)
Marco Loristan and his father are exiled citizens of the fictional European country of Samavia, currently living in London. Samavia has been undergoing civil war since the disappearance of their rightful king hundreds of years ago. (If you have not correctly guessed the identity of the lost prince by about twenty-five pages in... well, let's just say you're about as oblivious as Marco. Marco's father is the kind of guy people spontaneously want to salute, okay?) Marco meets a street urchin by the name of The Rat, and, what luck, he's just as obsessed with Samavia as Marco is! Everyone is obsessed with Samavia! Whee!
This book is basically an unashamed love letter to monarchy and nationalism and has a lot of people throwing themselves on their knees and begging to be allowed to serve people and pledging their lives to the cause of restoring the true king to Samavia. I don't think we're allowed to write fiction like this with all of our earnest unironic hearts anymore. Which is a shame, because it's awesome.
Marco's father sends them both on a spying mission across Europe where they have to pass on secret phrases about the rebellion. You would think the plot would actually involve some intrigue, but the rival spies who are the source of intrigue kind of just disappear, and mostly we get the whirlwind tour of stately European cities while everyone they meet who recognizes him prostrates themselves before Marco. (Please note that the identity of the lost prince has still not occurred to Marco. And it gets even more ridiculous than that. I had to put the book down because I was laughing at Marco so much. More than once.)
Overall: Hooray! Hooray Marco and the Rat! This book is hilarious fun and you should read it if you like hilarious fun. Even if you are an adult. -
This is a solid gold book by the genius who wrote the Secret Garden.
It features:
a 12 year old military genius
a quest, with crutches
a noble honest and true prince and his faithful snarky smart companion
someone nicknamed The Rat who is a dreamboat and a military genius!
... oh no, I see I've made a fatal mistake, all is discovered, look, don't arrest me, I was much younger when I first read it. -
This book is hardly known, and yet it to is written by the author of
The Secret Garden. It was not the plot that engaged me, when I read it years ago, but how I felt for Marco and the Rat. I was in their shoes. When they were hurt, I was hurt. When they were happy, I was too. The author made me, a child, feel complete empathy for these two fictional characters.
I wonder if I would love it so much now, but for me then, it was one of the best books ever written. That is why I have given it 5 stars. -
I finished the The Lost Prince with very mixed feelings. There's a lot to like about it and it's got some wonderful scenes and characters. But at the same time, it has some grave flaws which, I'm afraid, weigh too heavily on the overall plot.
Although a particular time is never mentioned, one can assume this story takes place during the author's lifetime. Either way, I doubt it is set much further from our current time than about 100 years - the setting is too recent for me to find this plot believable. A prince who was lost 500 years ago throws Samavia - a fictional country in the otherwise faithfully true presentation of Europe - into a war zone. Rumour has it that the prince survived and has been training his descendant to be prepared for their return to power. This training and the knowledge that comes with it has been passed down throughout all the generations until we come to our hero character: Marco.
The lost heir to the throne, a country in turmoil and a romantic story of getting one's country back would make a fine fantasy story, but it does not work for me in the setting it was placed. Even more unbelievable to me is the fact that Marco gets sent to travel all over Europe with nothing but another child his age - on crutches - to accompany him. Their travels are surprisingly trouble-free, even more so when one considers that they cross through a war-torn country.
In addition to the plot not really convincing me, Marco's father is depicted in a rather uncomfortable way. It would seem the author was aiming for a loving father-son relationship in which the father plays a too-good-to-be-true part. Even if he were such a wonderful person, the way the rest of the characters worship him doesn't sit right with me - especially when it comes to Marco's friend with crutches. And it's not just my reading too much into it, the characters call their behaviour worshipping as they treat this father as some kind of god. They are desperately happy to kiss and clean the man's shoes!
Marco is in a bit of a similar spot, though not quite as extreme. I also thought him a moderately boring character as he was just so perfectly well behaved and calm throughout - not once did he lose his cool in this entire plot which was supposedly full of intrigues. His friend with crutches, who calls himself The Rat, is one of the few interesting characters. He's got the most character growth and he feels real in that he's got the genius side to him while also being very flawed. He is a great companion and my only regret is once he gets himself into that worshipping position.
Although I found the travelling across Europe aspects one of the most unbelievable ones, it did allow for some lovely scenes as they set out across various landscapes and get to see many different towns and people. The way Marco and The Rat slept out in the open and stuck up for each other was great.
Oh yes, another minor thing that triggered me, a cat lover, was the fact that Marco got himself locked up and found that with him there was a cat with her kittens locked up as well. He said the cat gave him comfort and that he would make sure all of them get out. Nonsense! When the chance came, he ran for it and left the poor cats to their fate! Any character who does that is a dead character to me! -
This was a beautiful and powerful book. This book has earned a place of honor on my bookshelves. I want all my children to read it! It is a classic of the first class! This book is heavy duty on the reading and vocabulary, many youngters of today would have a hard time getting into it at first, but once they understand where the story is going, I bet they won't be able to put it down!
So many things to learn from studying this story: What it means to be a man, the influence of a good Father on a young boy, what an education is, how to prepare for your future mission while still young, how to keep a child unspoiled, honest, & good, how to be a true friend, the meaning of loyalty, the power of a purpose, the true face of greatness, etc, etc...I could keep going.
This book is very Romantic & idealistic, so sweet & innocent. It reminds me of Gene Stratton-Porter's works. The story swept me up. I stayed up to read this book till midnight...just a few hours before I gave birth to baby #6!
My absolute favorite thing about this book was the tender relationship between the son and his father, and how they welcomed a stranger into their home and successfully made him a part of their family. It was so inspiring to see how "The Rat" changed from a homeless ruffian into a refined, loyal, courageous companion.
I also love that this book embraces the concepts known to today's modern society as "The Secret" or the "Law of Attraction". I was completely fascinated that Frances Hodgson Burnett was so familiar with the life changing principles of the magic of positive thinking. But I guess that is also the main theme in "The Secret Garden" and "A Little Princess". I wish this story of hers was as well known as the previous two. What those two famous books have done for girls for the last century, The Lost Prince can do for young boys. Read it first...then give it to your sons to read! You'll be so glad you did! -
I had a feeling it would be great and I wasn't wrong. It was a very pleasant novel. I like almost everything about it: characters, places, adventures - all are very interesing.
I admit that the plot is very predictable but it didn't bother me. I could easly connected with the story and characters.
Young Marco is lovely. He has also this beautiful kindness, gentleness and wisdom which make him even more interesting as a child character. Also his father is a very strong character. And I felt sympathy for Marco's friend who is called Rat.
I like the way they were all presented in the book. Very rational, logic, simple but at the same time you just knew they are the lucky ones. The ones that will succeed in their life beyond belief, which also make them a little bit unreal, though.
Plus, probably the journey through Europe wasn't really believable but I did enjoy it. I like it overall. Brilliant story. -
I should stop reading reviews for beautiful old children's classics like this one, because I enjoy them so much, but it seems the rest of the world is cynical. So is it predictable? Is the main character Too Good To Be Believed? Of course. But sometimes that's part of the charm. I love old books, and I wish there was more quality literature like it today.
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I've been dragging through the last 50 pages of this book over the past 3 days, but that's mainly due to outside distractions. I have to give it 5 stars for the feelings it gave me last week.
I have not read Frances Hodgson Burnett since the last time I reread either The Secret Garden or A Little Princess, both of which must be at least 10 years ago. But her writing style and the way her stories make me feel must be ingrained in my subconscious from the number of times I read and reread those books growing up, because last Thursday, about halfway through the book, I had such an extreme holy-heck-I-love-reading moment that I cried--not because of the story, but because of the... nostalgia? Maybe?
The Lost Prince is mysteriously fantastical yet mundane, like all of Frances Hodgson Burnett's books; it is not a fantasy, but it feels that way because it is full of the adventures that children imagine for themselves when they are bored or lonely, and it is so serious about it all. Reading this book, more than any Junior Fiction I've read in ages has thrown me right back into the exact feeling I felt devouring books as a child.
Reading a good book is magic, and even though I read all the time, this book in particular has made me feel like I've rediscovered something magical that I'd forgotten existed. I don't know why the story of a boy being raised as a spy by his mysterious father in order to help a secret prince rescue his war-torn country was the specific catalyst for this feeling, but I'm grateful for it.
I love Frances Hodgson Burnett's writing, there's something about the way she describes emotions... and the way her stories meander about and lead you in different directions than you expect. I did feel slightly uncomfortable about the degree to which Marco and the Rat positively worship Marco's father (despite it all being for good, and the love and care with which it is done, the way Stefan Loristan raised his son still feels a little brainwash-y) and the Rat in turn worships Marco to the point where he would gladly "be cut to pieces" for him. I'm glad Marco consistently insists on them being friends and tries to avoid the power dynamic, because I love their friendship a lot. Also the tasks they are given, despite not being on the front lines, still put child soldiers in mind--reading as an adult, of course. As a kid one would likely just be excited by these kids who are allowed to travel around Europe on their own to perform the integral task of alerting the secret army to the imminent revolution.
I have some pages saved for moments that I particularly enjoyed...
The Rat's eyes began to have points of fire in them.
"If I could see the papers every morning, I could fight the battles on paper by night," he said, quite panting at the incredible vision of splendour. Were all of the kingdoms of the earth going to be given to him? Was he going to sleep without a drunken father near him?
Was he going to have a chance to wash himself and to sit at a table and hear people say 'Thank you', and 'I beg pardon', as if they were using the most ordinary fashion of speech? -pg. 132
"You can't set savage thoughts loose in the world, any more than you can let loose savage beasts with hydrophobia. They spread a sort of rabies, and they always tear and worry you worst of all." -pg. 142
"You're not really jealous. You only think you are. You'll find that out if you always stop yourself in time. Anyone can be such a fool if he lets himself. And he can always stop it if he makes up his mind. I'm not jealous. You must let that thought alone. You're not jealous yourself. Kick that thought into the street."
The Rat caught his breath and threw his arms up over his eyes. "Oh Lord! Oh Lord!" he said; "if I lived near him always as you have. If I just had."
"We're both living near him now," said Marco. "And here's something to think of," leaning more forward on his elbow. "The kings who were made ready for Samavia have waited all these years; we can make ourselves ready and wait so that, if just two boys are wanted to do something--just two boys--we can step out of the ranks when the call comes and say 'Here!' Now let's lie down and think of it until we go to sleep." -pg. 145
The entrance of Loristan produced its usual effect. The agent's clerk lifted his hat, and the policeman stood straight and made salute. Neither of them realized that the tall man's clothes were worn and threadbare. They felt only that a personage was before them. -pg. 191
"When you are near me," Marco said, in Loristan's own voice, "when you are near me, I feel--I feel as if I were a royal prince attended by an army. You are my army." And he pulled off his cap with quick boyishness and added, "God be thanked!" -pg. 304
I love the Rat a lot, because he is an underdog, of course. Jem. I wish he had been called that more often, and by Marco... Ah well. I love his love for Marco, and Marco's love for him.
Spoilers ahead.
There were several twists in the book that I did not expect, but the final plot twist I knew already from this moment early on:
"Your--sir!" he said. "God save the Prince!"
"Yes," Loristan answered, after a moment's hesitation, --"when he is found." And he went back to his table smiling his beautiful smile. -pg. 95
That moment's hesitation is what did it for me, although to be honest I sort of assumed from the very beginning that Marco was the Lost Prince--his father makes more sense though, being the adult.
Anyway, there you have it. I was remarkably affected by this book and I'm just... excited about reading again. Whatever shall I read next...? -
As much as I love Secret Garden and A Little Princess, the same can't be said for this novel. It is okay, but I think it stretches far too long and moves a bit too slow. Burnett, I'm afraid, did not create a convincing strong male protagonist in the form of a twelve-year-old boy, even though she did inject good characteristics that not only I'd love any children to have, but myself, too.
I'd willingly reread A Little Princess and Secret Garden word by word anytime, but not The Lost Prince. The plot is very interesting and would have made a great story, but I wish the author would hurry up the pace a bit. Sometimes her description seems repetitive, as if she tried so hard to convince us about the main characters' good traits. The story is not bad at all, but it's not on a par with the other two famous novels. -
Unexpected Spiritualist teachings from Edwardian children's author.
I have such a weakness for the writing of Frances Hodgeson Burnett, her insight into the imagination of a child is always a pleasure, never anything less than sophisticated. I enjoyed this a great deal (although The Secret Garden will remain my favourite.) -
Too tidy, even for a fantasy/fairy tale. The hero lacks an Achilles heel, or even much of a villain. Eastern mysticism lessons slowed the pace and felt preachy, not to mention out of place.
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Well I didn't love it.
I have all kinds of respect for Frances Hodgson Burnett, but this is miles behind Secret Garden and Little Princess.
If you love this book I have no wish to take that away from you, but I'm going to indulge in some ranting that you're not obligated to read.
There's a reason kid protagonists are frequently orphans. It allows them to go on dangerous adventures without the parents being neglectful. In this story, the dad literally sends two thirteen year-old kids (who worship him) to travel across Europe on their own, begging for their livelihood and delivering secret messages while dangerous spies who are willing to harm them are on their trail. Every adult who discovers this arrangement is a little shocked, but then decides it must be okay because the dad "Mr. Perfect" said so.
And yet for all the spies and intrigues this story is actually quite dull (and repetitive). This may be because the author's priority is to present her belief system rather that make it exciting.
When I read stories that are this didactic about messages I actually believe, I feel a little second-hand embarrassment at the lack of subtlety. I didn't feel so much embarrassed with this book because I don't believe in the saving power of self-will or the "god within" but I eye-rolled a bit at how awkwardly these messages were inserted into the story.
The Rat could have been an interesting character. He's got flaws, a tragic backstory/situation, cleverness and great leadership instincts, but after meeting our main characters he very quickly loses every shred of his dignity and actually begs to clean Loristan's boots. I'm not sorry that the Rat becomes less resentful and less inclined to approve of torture, but if he could also retain a shred of self-respect I would have appreciated that.
Additional observations:
Seeing how easy it was to save Somavia in the end, I feel like it shouldn't have waited hundreds of years to do it.
The Dad letting his kid frequently go without food because he was too proud to accept the money his supporters offered him is bad parenting.
There's a lot of hero worship/monarch worship that frequently made me cringe (and I'm a monarchist).
If you're going to save your big reveal for the very end of the book maybe don't make it obvious in the first chapter and repeatedly hint at it nearly every page? It makes the characters seem severely stupid and their supposed to be unusually clever.
Lazarus (and others) are super mean to the land lady. She's just concerned about getting her rent okay? Just because you're secretly royalty doesn't give you the right to be offended and aggressive to the extent of actually scaring her! -
I think I should have read this as a child, when I would have enjoyed it more like Secret Garden, A Little Princess or Little Lord Faultenroy. These were fun and less egregiously on the side of 'noble Prince is noble because he's a Prince all others are lesser and should bow their romantically inspired towards monarchy heads to him'. I mean similar elements were there, but there was still more heart.
Here we have a spirit of revolution instead, which works on giving a reader the Cause (TM) clouded in mystery, but which in fact immediately see through, flimsy at best, and comes off quite naive in its praise of monarchy as solution to chaos, both in 21st century, as well as considering this originally came out early into the WWI.
It is still quite a good read still while at it, because the author has a way with her words, and mostly my dissatisfaction comes from reviewing the content and it's possible connotations as a whole.
Hence I might let a child read it, for the fun, secret and adventure, but I'd be hesitant to recommend it to an adult. -
I really enjoyed this book! That shouldn’t surprise me since I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve read by Burnett. That said, I’m not sure what it was about this book but it reminded me a lot of Kipling and his writing (who I also enjoy). There is some talk about being able to think things into being near the end of the book.
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Viehättävä tarina vuodelta 1915. En tiennyt olisinko antanut kolme vai neljä tähteä, mutta päädyin neljään... Ei voi kuin ihailla päähenkilöiden arvomaailmaa ja tuon ajan ihanteita. Luin lapsille ääneen ja hekin pitivät, vaikka suomenkieli olikin kovin vanhaa ja eroaa tämänpäiväisestä.
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This is one of my all-time favorite children's books, even though I didn't discover it until I was an adult. There is something immensely appealing about a story where even a twelve-year-old boy can significantly affect the world around him. Early on, we learn that Marco, his father, Stefan, and their servant Lazarus are Samavian nationals in exile from their beloved country. They travel from country to country, are very poor, and there is some mystery to their lifestyle. Marco and his father are very close. Marco's love for his father is evident in everything he does. Stefan's love for Marco is equally apparent, as is a different sort of protectiveness than is seen in most families. I loved the trust that Stefan showed Marco and the respectful interest he showed in the things that Marco told him.
Marco learned from a very young age how to be quiet about their lives. Though well-traveled, when living in a country, he appears to be from that country. If they return to a city after time away, they live in a new area and do not visit old neighborhoods. Marco has learned to entertain himself and knows the pleasures of free libraries and free days at museums. Once in a while, he makes a friend during their time in a city. Here, Marco has just moved to London and has gone exploring to learn about his new neighborhood and refresh his memories of the city. He stumbles on a group of boys known as "The Squad," led by a disabled boy known as The Rat.
Jem Ratcliffe is the son of a former schoolmaster who has fallen on hard times and taken to drinking. The Rat is fascinated by military and war-related things and has trained his "men" in drilling and maneuvers. His first encounter with Marco begins with him throwing a rock at Marco and ends with an unexpected friendship. Marco and The Rat bond over their love of Samavia, though The Rat only knows about it from what is in the newspapers. The Rat has an amazingly vivid and complex imagination and creates a game that involves two boys who spread the word of a Lost Prince found and a throne to take back.
Meanwhile, Stefan and Lazarus are seen to be involved in something highly secretive. As the news of Samavia becomes more dire, their fears for their homeland grow. There is also a glimmer of hope that a descendant of their Lost Prince could be found and restored to the throne. Stefan is interested in hearing about his son's new friend and is intrigued by The Game they play, even making the occasional suggestion.
When The Rat's father dies, he goes to Marco and Stefan for help. I loved the kindness and compassion that Stefan showed the boy and its effect on him. The Rat's reaction was perhaps a little excessive, but Stefan often had that effect on people. He was stunned when Stefan invited him to join their family. As things go from bad to worse in Samavia, we see an increase in Stefan's secret activities, and that Marco also plays a part. With The Rat's arrival, he, too, is included.
The tension of the book picks up when Stefan turns The Game into the real thing. Still under the guise of make-believe, he gives the boys tasks to learn and carry out, all in the spirit of pretend. Both boys sense that it has moved beyond that and are proved right when Stefan asks them to become the Bearers of the Sign. The powers-that-be believe that two boys can do things that would be suspicious in grown men. Even after reading the book many times, I am always glued to the pages as Marco and The Rat make their way across Europe, delivering their message. From the poor to the powerful, each recipient has their place. I love the descriptions of where they go and what they have to do each time. There are challenges to overcome, and no small amount of danger. The last stop is an emotional one and adds another piece to the reader's puzzle, and while The Rat suspects the truth, Marco is strangely oblivious. Quest completed, they return to London, only to find that Stefan is not there. I loved the building tension as they wait for word from him. I loved the conclusion and Marco's joy at being reunited with Stefan.
Written in 1915, it is easy to see the influences of the time on the story. Class differences are evident. Marco and Stefan are obviously of the upper class despite their impoverished circumstances. Stefan's commanding presence is made much of, as is Marco's demeanor. While The Rat isn't quite on the level they are because his father "used to be a gentleman," he is seen as a bit above his "Squad" members. Current events of the day appear to have influenced the setting, and the names have a definite Slavic influence. There are some hints of mysticism, also a big deal during that time. -
This was a re-reading for me and I had forgotten some of the beautiful ways that the author tells of the quiet and dignified way in which Marco and his friend the Rat help secretly tell others while passing though various countries that after 500 years of patient waiting it is time for the descendent of the Lost Prince to take the throne back.
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When I first bought my kindle, I wanted some books on it, but I didn’t want to pay for them (since I had just spent a bunch on the kindle). I was going through the free book list on kindle, and I saw some books by one of my favorite childhood authors, Frances Hodgson Burnett. Of course, I grabbed The Secret Garden, just to have it, but I also downloaded a book of hers that I had not yet read, The Lost Prince. (It’s still available for free on kindle, by the way.)
The main character, Marco, is a boy (early teens) who lives with his father in a poor area of London. The pair is in exile from their home country, Samavia, which is in political turmoil. Marco’s father, Stefan, has raised him to be a patriot, even though Marco has never been to Samavia. Marco meets and befriends a crippled boy known only as “The Rat.” Together, the two boys imagine fighting for Samavia and concoct intricate plots involving restoring The Lost Prince, a mythical figure who is the rightful heir to the throne of Samavia.
By now you have probably guessed the “big surprise” of the book. Nonetheless, I’ll continue the review. It is impossible for me to review this book other than with reference to Burnett’s other, better-known books that I loved as a child: The Secret Garden, Little Lord Fauntleroy, and A Little Princess. The common theme of these books is a child in wretched circumstances who, by the end of the book, is in a situation better than could have ever been imagined by anyone anywhere. This book follows that same pattern. The difference is first that there is no suspense whatever. Second, the children in her more popular books (at least the girls) grow through their difficulties. Marco is perfect throughout the book, so he isn’t very interesting. The Rat is much more interesting, but he is never allowed to be more than a supporting character.
The other major flaw in the book is the intrusion of some strange religious beliefs. Burnett herself was a well-known religious seeker, especially after the death of her oldest son. She was, at different times, a Christian Scientist and a spiritualist. The religion that crops up in this book wasn’t recognizable to me, but it had to do with a spiritual source of power known as “The One” and implied (perhaps Buddhist?) doctrines of peace, fearlessness, and destiny. There are sections of the book that go into these beliefs in an almost sermon-like way—not quite as bad as Ayn Rand, but nearly so.
In spite of the problems I’ve mentioned, I found myself caring what happened to the boys and looking forward to the revelation of the “secret” which every reader knows from the first few pages (or before, if you have read this review). The real payoff of Burnett’s books is the ending, where “happy” would be a severe understatement, and this book didn’t disappoint. I was reading the final few chapters while on the elliptical, and in spite of my exertion, I actually found myself with chills at one point. Any book that can give me chills must have something to recommend it! Bottom line: Don’t read this book until you have read her better books that I mentioned earlier. If you still haven’t got enough Burnett, this one is fine. It would be fine for kids, as long as you don’t mind your kids praying to The One now and then. -
Marco Loristan, twelve years old, has just moved to shabby quarters at No. 7 Philibert Place in London, England, with his father, Stefan Loristan, and their manservant Lazarus. The three have lived in many places, including Moscow, Paris, Munich, and Vienna, because they are refugees from Samavia (a fictitious eastern European country). Some 500 years before, the last legitimate king of Samavia was killed, and his heir, Prince Ivor Fedorovitch, mysteriously disappeared. The “Lost Prince” of Samavia had become a legend over time, and as the country experienced civil war between the Maranovitch and Iarovitch factions, general unrest, bloody revolutions, poverty, and political instability, many were hoping that Ivor’s descendent could be found and made king. Marco’s father is a Samavian patriot working in exile to overthrow the cruel dictatorship in the kingdom of Samavia and restore their home country to its former peaceful glory.
In London, Marco meets “The Rat”, a crippled, hunchback street urchin who is fascinated with all things military and has a brilliant mind in his weak body. The two soon become friends, and together invent “The Game” where they make up schemes to form a Secret Party all across Europe that works behind the scenes to find the Lost Prince and re-establish peace and prosperity for Samavia. When the Rat’s father dies, he ends up living with the Loristans. Then the Game turns into reality, and the two boys embark on an adventurous trip throughout Europe, from big cities like Paris, Munich and Vienna, to tiny mountain hamlets, even to Samavia itself, as “Bearers of the Sign” to tell certain people that “The Lamp is lighted.” Along the way they have to deal with spies and other dangers, and when they finally get back home, Stephan is gone. Is there really a “Lost Prince”? If so, who and where is he? And what will happen to Marco and the Rat?
Any boy (or girl, for that matter) who is a good reader and likes stories of mystery, suspense, adventure, and international intrigue, will enjoy this book. It moves a bit slowly at first and there is a good deal of geographical description, but it picks up and becomes more exciting as the boys travel across Europe giving the secret sign. What I really like about the characterization is the nobility—not physical nobility as in kings and princes, but moral nobility as in Marco’s devotion to duty, loyalty to friends, and perseverance. Author Frances Hodgson Burnett is best known for The Little Princess, The Secret Garden, and Little Lord Fauntleroy, but I think that The Lost Prince of Samavia is better—in fact, one of the best novels that I have ever read. Most editions sold today are lightly abridged versions marketed under the title The Lost Prince. Either way, it is classic tale of kindness, courage, patriotism, and family love. -
I'm in the process of reading this. I'm not hurrying through it, but, reading it in fits and spurts, as the days allow.
So far, it is quite impressive for being both well written and not at all what one might expect, at least if one is me, by the title and age recommendation and cover. That it is a book for children is evident, but, it is not a pandering book, or, trying to make one believe in fairy tales. It's more about honor, valor, treating people right and learning how to think correctly for oneself. I'm surprised it hasn't been banned for teaching such notions. Yet, here it is and I would recommend it to anyone, despite the patriotic bent.
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Now that I am done reading it, I have to say that I quit reading it in fits and spurts and started reading it in large chunks and making time for it. I really liked this book.
It is not full of surprising plot twists, at least not to me. It is very well written. The things it is written about really are of very little concern to me. The descriptions of the feelings, the surroundings, etc., make it worth reading, despite that it is about nationalism, patriotism and other worldly things. And, it expresses viewpoints on honor, even somewhat about God, in a way that really gives one something to think about.
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This is one of my favourite books, a very enchanting story. Marco is a very likeable character, as well as his friend the Rat. Although there is no "magic", the inclusion of Eastern spirituality was a nice touch, especially the "thought that thought all" and "mending the chain". It was a beautifully written book and also has a very Arthurian theme to it. Although some people have said that the story was too simple and unrealistic, I think Marco certainly went through many trials and didn't get out of danger too easily, and the complexity of the characters and the tasks they go through gives it a lot of depth. They develop through the story, especially the Rat, and even though the story is not about him per say, I feel that we as readers are supposed to feel most akin to him, because unlike Stefan Loristan, we are not "perfect" and are still striving to do greater, to "mend the chain". It is a book that speaks to your soul and the audio version is amazing (David Thorne, the narrator, is great!).
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If you are a Lord Peter Wimsey fan, then you remember in HAVE HIS CARCASE when Harriet Vane settles down in the boarding house and, instead of writing her novel, reads romantic novels? This must be one of the novels she read. In which a young man, raised in the most unpromising of circumstances, nevertheless exhibits innate nobility and royalty and finally steps forward to take the throne.
This plot almost cries out for parody, but in fact it's quite serious (like a similar work, GRAUSTARK). Just relax and go along for the ride. Do not bother thinking about politics, funding, the UN, Communism, socialism, the rise of fascism in Germany, or any of the other issues that dogged the 20th century. This is a fantasy novel in the purest sense of the word, as fantastic as THE WIZARD OF OZ or LOTR.
