As promised, The Hobbit.

Also, I typically do not post a review here on the blog. However, this particular book is very special to me for more than one reason. When I was nine years old, I climbed up on the bookcase and pulled this particular book down, against my mother’s wishes. She told me I could read it when I was older. However, the beautiful blood-red cover captured my fancy, and I absconded with the forbidden book and drank it in in one afternoon.

A reader was born.

Here is the text to my review; you can find Chataine’s Guardian wherever books are sold. The cover is different now, but it’s still a life-changing book. 

Another reviewer pegged The Annals of Lystra as “Not Great Liturature” [sic]. After finishing Chataine’s Guardian for the umpteenth time this evening, my head is left reeling in that awesome return-to-earth kind of way. Yeah, Chataine’s Guardian, and its sequels, are Great Literature. 

OK, Robin Hardy isn’t Thomas Hardy. She doesn’t write this beautifully tragic work of art that has trappings of rosy literary devices and really cool sentence structure that leave the reader awed (and with a headache) after hours of critical read-throughs. 

Thank God. My worst classes in college were the confounded upper-level literature courses that took Western Canon and idolized it for the author’s ingenious writing style (only detectable after the fourth read-through), while at the same time demoralizing the reader from believing anything in this life was worthwhile. I don’t know about you, but if I had to take either Tess of the D’Urbervilles or Chataine’s Guardian to a deserted island, I’d toss Tess and clutch CG to my heart. Give me something that gives me a reason to hope, for crying out loud. 

The whole premise of Chataine’s Guardian is Psalm 91: While Roman is definitely a Christ-figure, and this of all of Hardy’s works is the most blatantly Christian, the heart of Chataine’s Guardian is really an Old Testament-style fairy tale. And those are the best. 

The story begins simply enough–a princess, called a Chataine, has received a threat on her life. A guardian is appointed by the King (Surchatain) to ward her. After years of being the only person who demonstrably cares about her, the inevitable happens: Chataine falls for Guardian. While Deirdre is not a cardboard-perfect heroine (Great! That means there’s hope for all of us Humans!), she does transition from acting out of her own hurt and anger to acting–in the best way she knows how–out of conscience. Deirdre comes a long way in this first book, and the author unabashedly allows us to learn from her gaffes. We see that correction from the Almighty is always patient, and always merciful. 

Other characters are very interesting to follow: Roman, while he is definitely a Christ-type, also has his own clear destiny. At times he can surprise us, and it keeps the plot from becoming predictable. The Counselor is deliciously ambiguous, and readers who go on to read the The Latter Annals of Lystra (beginning with Nicole of Prie Mer: Book One of the Latter Annals of Lystra (The Latter Annals of Lystra)) will find the parallels in character to Carmine, the new Counselor, very noteworthy. 

As the story line deepens, so too does the intensity. What started with a relatively simple cast of characters flows into an ever-increasing complexity of setting. The ending is downright stunning, although, in characteristic Hardy style, it ends in the only way that could make sense. She’s one of the few authors able to produce a makes-total-sense-surprise ending. The reader feels somewhat abashed at not having been able to predict it, but the clues were there all along. You can see the Agatha Christie influence at work. 

Anyway, don’t get me wrong–there’s a reason we study certain books in college. I think it definitely has its place. But Robin Hardy’s works are books you read, and reread, and consume, abuse, carry around with you, and read again. Corners get torn off, drinks get spilled on them–all because they get left out within arm’s reach for a day when you need to see, yet again, that Good triumphs over Evil; that God is still in control; that our faith will pay off in the end; we read Hardy’s books when we need to hear God saying to us: 

“Because he cleaves to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name. When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will rescue him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him, and show him my salvation” (Psalm 91). 

In short, there are books we read that are high art. Then there are books we read to drink a draught of life. And Chataine’s Guardian is overflowing.