Recently I have been copy-editing a German to English translation of a child-rearing book by a behavioural psychologist for a Swiss client. It got me thinking about my many visits to Switzerland and Austria, my recent catch-up with an old friend from that part of the world, and my life-long love of the alpine region.
Part of this love and interest started at the age of eleven, when I read a children’s adventure story at my school library. ‘The Sign of the Alpine Rose,’ was the fourth in the ‘Jillies’ books by prolific (yet sadly oft forgotten) English author, Malcolm Saville.
During his eighty-one years, Saville wrote around ninety books. The majority were adventure stories for children with a strong sense of place, like the ‘Lone Pine’ series, but he also wrote about the English countryside and his strong Christian faith. His memory and work are still celebrated by a society in his honour, which has annual meet-ups and a quarterly magazine: http://www.witchend.com
The strong sense of place I have described, echoes throughout ‘The Sign of the Alpine Rose.’ The book is set in the fictional mountain village of Bertch, in a post-war Austria divided into various occupation zones. Written in 1950, the story is akin to a slightly more grown-up ‘Famous Five’ book, in which two daughters and a son travel with their widowed artist father to visit a foreign pen friend.
The father of the pen friend never returned from the war, and is being held captive in the communist occupied zone. The book describes how the visiting Jillions family get involved with an underground movement of free Austrians, seeking to help their countrymen escape the communist controlled territory. The symbol of this movement is the Alpenrose (Rhododendron ferrugineum), which is typically worn in the hat or buttonhole as a form of covert identification.
The narrative oozes with beautiful descriptions of the scenery, architecture and rustic lives and culture of the native Austrians. As a young lad this had a powerful effect on me, and for many years after I searched bookshops to try and obtain my own copy. Saville died less than a year before I read this wonderful story, and it was out of print long before it arrived in our school library.
In my late thirties, and with the advent of the Internet, I finally managed to track down a first edition from a second hand bookshop. Reading it again was like being re-united with a long lost friend.
The other day, and prompted by my work on the Swiss book, I decided to read it once more.
There is a paragraph I would like to share with you, that speaks volumes about the human perception of change:
‘He had a passion for beauty, and only now was his elder daughter beginning to realize how much he sacrificed to give his children an education which would enable them to appreciate what was really worthwhile in a world which, he maintained, lacked the vitality, colour and vigour of the days before the cinema and television dominated so many leisure hours.’
Considering Saville wrote that in 1950, one can only imagine the horror with which both he and the character he describes would view the world of today!
The freedom with which the children are allowed to go off on unsupervised adventures (as long as they are home in time for tea), reminds me of my own childhood. Playing in the great outdoors, enjoying nature, using our imaginations. Sometimes the clever technology that is supposed to free us seems more like a shackle, and I feel sorry for the younger and future generations who appear to miss out on many healthy, simple yet important pleasures that were our daily experience.
It was good to go back to Bertch…
Part of this love and interest started at the age of eleven, when I read a children’s adventure story at my school library. ‘The Sign of the Alpine Rose,’ was the fourth in the ‘Jillies’ books by prolific (yet sadly oft forgotten) English author, Malcolm Saville.
During his eighty-one years, Saville wrote around ninety books. The majority were adventure stories for children with a strong sense of place, like the ‘Lone Pine’ series, but he also wrote about the English countryside and his strong Christian faith. His memory and work are still celebrated by a society in his honour, which has annual meet-ups and a quarterly magazine: http://www.witchend.com
The strong sense of place I have described, echoes throughout ‘The Sign of the Alpine Rose.’ The book is set in the fictional mountain village of Bertch, in a post-war Austria divided into various occupation zones. Written in 1950, the story is akin to a slightly more grown-up ‘Famous Five’ book, in which two daughters and a son travel with their widowed artist father to visit a foreign pen friend.
The father of the pen friend never returned from the war, and is being held captive in the communist occupied zone. The book describes how the visiting Jillions family get involved with an underground movement of free Austrians, seeking to help their countrymen escape the communist controlled territory. The symbol of this movement is the Alpenrose (Rhododendron ferrugineum), which is typically worn in the hat or buttonhole as a form of covert identification.
The narrative oozes with beautiful descriptions of the scenery, architecture and rustic lives and culture of the native Austrians. As a young lad this had a powerful effect on me, and for many years after I searched bookshops to try and obtain my own copy. Saville died less than a year before I read this wonderful story, and it was out of print long before it arrived in our school library.
In my late thirties, and with the advent of the Internet, I finally managed to track down a first edition from a second hand bookshop. Reading it again was like being re-united with a long lost friend.
The other day, and prompted by my work on the Swiss book, I decided to read it once more.
There is a paragraph I would like to share with you, that speaks volumes about the human perception of change:
‘He had a passion for beauty, and only now was his elder daughter beginning to realize how much he sacrificed to give his children an education which would enable them to appreciate what was really worthwhile in a world which, he maintained, lacked the vitality, colour and vigour of the days before the cinema and television dominated so many leisure hours.’
Considering Saville wrote that in 1950, one can only imagine the horror with which both he and the character he describes would view the world of today!
The freedom with which the children are allowed to go off on unsupervised adventures (as long as they are home in time for tea), reminds me of my own childhood. Playing in the great outdoors, enjoying nature, using our imaginations. Sometimes the clever technology that is supposed to free us seems more like a shackle, and I feel sorry for the younger and future generations who appear to miss out on many healthy, simple yet important pleasures that were our daily experience.
It was good to go back to Bertch…
