The Baby Jesus – yes, and Santa Claus – yes, but in my corner of the world, the gift-bringer, the one children write to, and wait for is the old (or young) lady with the donkey: Saint Lucia.
I’m well past childhood but, being the youngest – and indeed, the only young-ish – member of my family, I still get Saint Lucia. In the morning of the thirteenth, I wake up to find my little coloured parcels, and a sinful plate of candy…
This year, together with an elephant-shaped mug and a lovely glass ornament for the Christmas tree, Saint Lucia has left for me two historicals by Rosemary Sutcliff who, in spite of being a children’s author, is a writer right up my alley – or so I’m told.
That she writes tales from British history and was inspired by Kipling’s works seems very promising. From the hastiest perusal of her extensive bibliography, Kipling’s influence is clear. Just have a look at title and synopses: they have Puck of Pook’s Hill written all over…
I also like what Sally Hawkins writes here about Sutcliff’s novels, and how they sparked off her love of history, and her lack of condescension towards younger readers… As I said, it’s all very promising. Then again, Saint Lucia is seldom wrong. So, no matter how the show goes tonight, I can anticipate coming home to a pleasant few hours of reading one of my new Sutcliffs.
Thank you, Saint Lucia.
Davide Mana said:
Strange Oriental traditions 😉
la Clarina said:
😀 Oh, I’ve had my share of Lucia-impervious Westerners… I’m still trying to educate on the matter my Piedmontese College friend – and we graduated some sixteen years ago.
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