The Winter Prince (Firebird Books, 2003)

 

My original chapter title illustrations for The Winter Prince can be seen here (this is a 4.85 mb .pdf file).

 

 

A Horn Book Fanfare book, 1994

 

New York Public Librarys Books for the Teen Age, 1994

Also on the New York Public Library's Recommended Reading List “The Splendor of the Word: Medieval and Renaissance Life”

 

Short listed for the Carolyn Field Award for best children’s book by a Pennsylvania author, 1994

 

Listed in School Library Journal’s Sleepers: 100 Books Too Good to Miss, 1998

 

2005 New Jersey Statewide Summer Reading Program

The Winter Prince is one of 15 books recommended at the high school reading level for this program,

sponsored by the New Jersey Library Association and the New Jersey State Library

 

 

About the book:

 

Medraut is the eldest son of Artos, high king of Britain.  Strong, skilled, and daring, he would be a fit heir to his father’s kingdom but for an accident of birth.  Instead his younger half brother, Lleu, is chosen to be prince of Britain and heir to the throne.  Lleu bears no resemblance to Medraut nor to his namesake, Lleu Llaw Gyffes, the Bright One of the Steady Hand.  Instead he is fragile, often ill, unskilled in weaponry and statesmanship, and childishly afraid of the dark.  Even Lleu’s twin sister, Goewin, seems more suited to rule the kingdom.

 

Medraut cannot bear to be commanded and contradicted by this weakling brother who he feels has usurped his father’s favor and his birthright.  Torn and bitter, haunted by jealousy, self-doubt, and thwarted ambition, he joins Morgause, the high king’s treacherous sister, in a plot to force Artos to forfeit his power and kingdom in exchange for Lleu’s life.  But throughout the ordeal of his abduction Lleu proves to be indomitable of spirit, if not of body.  Where Medraut had hoped to crush Lleu, he instead finds himself challenging him to greater acts of courage.  As Lleu begins to prove his name and worth, Medraut is forced to decide for good or ill where his own allegiance truly lies.

 

Reviews for The Winter Prince:

 

A first novel that compares honorably with Sutcliffs books in its lyrical evocation of Arthurs Britain and is also akin to Napolis The Magic Circle in its contemporary reworking of legendary figures—particularly women.  Omitting Merlin and Lancelot, Wein incorporates Welsh lore and names in her story: at Artoss Camlan are his queen, Ginevra, and his three children: twins Goewin and sickly Lleu, Artoss legitimate heir, and their older half-brother Medraut (Mordred), whose narrative is addressed to beautiful, dangerous Morgause—Artoss sister and Medrauts mother—a cruel, fascinating woman whose gentle hands more often harm than heal.  Conniving to make Medraut Artoss heir, she torments Lleu with poisons, while Medraut—a gifted, richly complex young man whose deep ambivalence about Lleu governs the story—heals and taunts him, teaches, admires, and envies him and finally takes the lad hostage at Morgauses behest.  Lleu, coming into his real strengths, turns tables on his captor; their journey home is one of self-realization and reconciliation—themes emblemized, earlier, in a solstice celebration when the `Winter Prince—the Old Years son—enables the New Years birth.  The metamorphosis of the relationships is both dynamic and subtle, and Weins chosen voice is intriguing, since theres no setting for the telling—is Medraut still compelled, even when his loyalties have shifted, to explain himself to Morgause? Goewin, whos as able as her brothers and empathizes with her aunts thwarted ambition, may have a tale of her own.  A mesmerizing, splendidly imagined debut.

                                    —Kirkus, pointered review

 

A story of twisted loyalties pits Medraut, the illegitimate son of King Arthur by his sister Queen Morgause, against his legitimate half-brother, Lleu, whom he both loves and despises.  Written by Medraut in the first person, and addressed to his pitiless, treacherous mother, the tale lays bare his mixed feelings about his father and Lleu.  Artos (King Arthur) is presented as a practical, hard-working leader who is kind and just in his relations with Medraut, admiring him for his skill and strength and planning to make him regent for the frail Lleu.  But Lleu, small and sickly, combines courage, agility, and physical beauty with an offhand and irresponsible arrogance that betrays him into cruelty.  Medraut’s skill with medicine probably saves Lleu’s life, and their relationship becomes one of edgy trust and affection on Lleu’s part, although Medraut bitterly resents Lleu’s elevation to Prince of Britain.  Finally driven to revenge by his mother’s machinations after a contemptuous remark by Lleu, taunting him for being the child of incest, Medraut takes Lleu hostage and intends to give him up to Morgause for her own nefarious purposes.  But Lleu confounds him by his cleverness, brittle strength, and his trust in him, and Medraut ultimately recognizes his real feelings of love and loyalty.  An unusual, subtle variation of the familiar Arthurian tale, peopled with many intriguing characters.

                                    The Horn Book Magazine, starred review

 

Wein’s debut effort is the latest in the current spate of books and tales that mine Arthurian legends.  Told by Medraut, the illegitimate son of Artos and his sister Morgause, this novel chronicles the narrator’s love-hate relationship with his father’s legitimate son, Lleu, the heir to the British throne.…The writing is graceful and steeped in atmosphere, and the story line includes enough sibling rivalry and action to keep the reader going to the end.

                                    Publishers Weekly

 

This remarkable novel should be judged on its own merits rather than compared with the numerous novels and serious studies of the Arthurian legends.  It is unique in its thoughtful consideration of the complex and passion-filled interrelationships of a handful of characters from the legends.  Wein is chiefly concerned with the High King Artos, his capable and supportive queen, Ginevra, and his three children—the eldest, Medraut (result of the incestuous relationship of Artos and his sister, Morgause), and the twins Goewin and Lleu, the latter a puny, fear-filled child, the lawful heir to the throne.  Morgause, an evil, cruel, ambitious woman, works with poison in vials and words to make Medraut heir to the throne and to enslave Lleu.  Medraut rises above Morgause’s evil plans, and at long last is united with Lleu in a strong and healing love.  A book to be treasured.

                                    Sister Avila Lamb, Kliatt

 

Absorbing reading for those who enjoy Arthurian legends.  As the story opens, Medraut, the High Kings eldest son, is returning to Artoss court, Camlan, after a six-year absence.  There he finds Lleu, his frail, sickly half-brother, dying of an illness, and devotes himself to healing him.  Born of incest between Artos and his sister Morgause, Medraut can never be High King, although he is outwardly more capable than Lleu.  His intense love for his brother is mixed with extreme envy.  When the evil Morgause comes to Camlan with her four younger sons, she brings with her a desire to control Lleu.  Exploiting Medrauts envy, insecurity, and shame, and using her enchantresss power, she enlists his help.  A journey of betrayal, masked as a hunting trip, becomes a time of cruelty, fear, and passion for the half brothers, ending in an intense battle of wills between them.  Medraut admits his love for Lleu, who has found the inner strength he needs, and realizes that he can choose not to be bound to his mothers will.  The tension of this last section is strongly involving and convincing.  The characterizations are complex and finely drawn, as are the familial relationships.  Written as if Medraut is telling the story to Morgause, his love-hate feelings for her are powerfully conveyed.  A strong debut for a new novelist, and a story well worth reading.

—Jane Gardner Connor, School Library Journal

 

Fantasy lovers and devotees of Arthurian legends will enjoy Weins challenging but engrossing novel, which probes the soul of Mordred (or Medraut as Wein names him), the illegitimate son of Artos (presumably Arthur) and Artos half-sister Morgause.  In Weins sympathetic hands, Medraut is a skillful, well-traveled healer who loves his half-brother Lleu, the legitimate heir to Artos kingdom.  She also portrays Medraut as conflicted enough to succumb to the wiles of Morgause (knowing full well of her cruelty) and as capable of sacrificing Lleu for revenge.  Medraut is jealous of Lleus blameless birthright and the power Lleu wields so thoughtlessly, and he yearns not only for Artos approval, but also for recognition that he is not responsible for the shame of his parentage.  In a gripping climax, both Lleu and Medraut face the demons that haunt them and emerge knowing they will never fear each other again.

—Chris Sherman, Booklist

 

A new contender in the field of Arthurian novels, The Winter Prince is a strong and grim young adult novel from the point of view of Arthur’s children.  He has three in this version—a son and daughter by his wife Ginevra, and Medraut (Modred), the illegitimate son of Arthur’s sister Morgause.  Giving Arthur legitimate heirs considerably changes the dynamics of the story; in addition Medraut is one of the good guys, and the narrator.  He’s a healer, and actually saves his half-brother’s life, but his mother’s ability to warp the lives of everyone around her threatens to destroy not only Medraut’s life, but Arthur’s hope for Britain….This impressive first novel takes an interesting and original look at Arthurian legend.

                                    Carolyn Cushman, Locus

 

Wein’s The Winter Prince is a well written first novel that provides a new perspective on the legends of Arthur and a picture of medieval England.  Told from the perspective of Medraut, the illegitimate son of Artos, the High King, the story presents an unusual look at some of the ancient legends.  Wein manages to develop the characters of Medraut and Lleu, both sons of the legendary king, in a well rounded manner and each becomes quite believable and lifelike.

 

One of the appealing qualities of the book is that it presents the larger-than-life characters in a more realistic manner than the usual Arthurian story.  Missing from Wein’s book are the accounts of Merlin and the wondrous feats of magic.  While this absence may not appeal to fans of the wizard, it does give Wein’s characters a chance to dominate the tale on their own.  Rather than missing the magic show, the reader is more likely to be drawn to the characters of Lleu and, in particular, Medraut.  He becomes a very real person, with whom it is very easy to identify.

 

Medieval England, often overly romanticized, is also painted a little more honestly in this novel.  The story opens with a picture of famine and the effects of drought on a culture tied so closely to the land.  Rather than relying on pomp and pageantry to carry the story, Wein has given the reader a look at what life in Arthur’s England might have really been like, often difficult and dangerous.

 

Wein has produced a fine first novel that should be added to every library’s collection of Arthurian tales.

                                    Marilyn Bannon, Voice of Youth Advocates

 

A retelling of a section of the Arthurian saga, from the viewpoint of Welsh legends…, [The Winter Prince] strikes me as being a remarkable performance, particularly for a first novel.

 

The story’s voice is that of Arthur’s bastard child of incest, Mordred (Medraut in the book, as all the characters are called by their Welsh names), and his betwixt and between relations with his complicated and extraordinarily daunting parents, Arthur (here called Artos) and Arthur’s sister, Morgawse (called Morgause).

 

The portrait of the usually totally inscrutable and mysterious Medraut does as good a job of fleshing him out into a convincingly motivated human as any treatment I’ve come across, and I don’t think I’ve ever had a clearer look at Morgause and most certainly know for sure I’ve never seen her more frighteningly presented.

 

This last effect is in large part because Elizabeth Wein has not only used Medraut as her narrator, she’s made the book an extended report from him to his fiendish mother, so that his constant references to her as `you’ doubly force us to look at the terrifying creature, and to feel her tin hands, and to hear the chillingly subtle alterations of mood in her voice, from her abused son’s point of view, which is the most fearsome one owned of her by any human on the planet.  The ploy also enables Elizabeth Wein to make blood-chillingly clear the grisly effect which not only the presence but the merest passing thought of his horrendous mother has on her unfortunate son.

 

The book is sure and solidly structured, built with precision and economy and to the point.  I even found the chapter headings to be particularly satisfactory, and the title also, referring as it does to a character in a ceremonial pageant celebrating the solstice who is adroitly relevant.  Altogether the plot unfolds with such a revealing stateliness that it put me in mind of a Shakespearean play.

                                    Gahan Wilson, Realms of Fantasy

 

Wein adopts Welsh spellings and a rugged, rural quality for a tale which chronicles Medraut’s return to his father’s court and his interaction with Artos’ two legitimate children, Lleu and Goewin.  But while Medraut is a more or less welcome guest in Artos’ hall, he is also his mother’s son, and Morgause is the most cunning and powerful sorceress in the British Isles.

 

In form, the novel consists of a manuscript addressed by Medraut to his mother, and the first-person narrative expertly captures the tangled knot of emotions that binds Medraut to his mother by blood, his father by honor, and his half-siblings by a mixture of rivalry and respect.  As much or more of Medraut’s character is revealed by allusion and oblique hint as by direct admission, and this Medraut is a most complicated young man.  No one’s willing pawn, he nonetheless finds himself manipulated by those around him and struggles to face the world on his own terms.

 

The remaining players are well-realized as well, if in rather less detail—no small achievement for Wein, who must filter their portrayals through Medraut’s eyes and pen.  She sketches each in with fine, quick strokes and just the proper touches of light and shadow.  Morgause in particular becomes a fascinating, chilling presence, as Medraut relates her actions as minimally as possible, yet can’t escape her pivotal influence on events.

 

These events are not, for the most part, the well-known knightly deeds of the best-known Arthurian legends.  Rather, Wein focuses tightly on Artos and his family, and on the rise of Lleu and Goewin to young manhood and womanhood respectively.  But if an Artos with legitimate heirs is a novel concept, it is one that is impossible to question while under the spell of Wein’s prose, and Medraut’s authoritative narration gives the scenario a quiet credibility that sets aside objections before they can be raised.

                                    Dragon

 

The Winter Prince is an astonishing novel, cold and deep as a mountain lake, swirling with dark undercurrents and fed by a fast, bubbling stream of passion and invention!  To meet Medraut is never to forget him.  I can only hope that Elizabeth Wein goes back again and again to that place in her brain where he and his twisted, brilliant, loving family live and breathe in a world that—through her masterful writing—is as near to us as our own.

—Ellen Kushner, author of Swordspoint and Thomas the Rhymer

 

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