The ripple effect

[pjthompson]

When I was twelve or thirteen a teacher gave me a book because she thought I might like it. The book was The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff—and the teacher was oh so right. It followed a young Roman officer, Marcus, on his first command in the frontier fort of Isca Dumnoniorum, present day Exeter in Britain, circa 129 A.D.. The larger story was about him trying to find out what happened to his father, a centurion in the infamous Lost Ninth Legion, whom legend said marched into the wilds of Caledonia never to be heard of again.

I ate that book up, and started scouring all the libraries in the area for other books in the series, all set in Roman Britain and the Dark Ages, and tracing many generations of the same family as they lived through the chaos and war of those years. I never found them all and back in the day there were no used book dealers all hooked up by the Internet so I rarely found one in stores.

I remember what a huge sense of victory I felt when I actually did find a Sutcliff book in a store: The Shield Ring. I can't remember now if I found it in a new or used bookstore. Another big moment came when I browsed the bookshelf of a neighbor and found Sword at Sunset, Sutcliff's version of the Arthurian saga. It was a nice hardcover edition and I had to beg for weeks before she'd let me borrow it. I didn't immediately tear into it like I wanted to. I had a sense that it might be amongst the last of Sutcliff's books I'd be able to lay hands on because I really had wrung out all the libraries and I wanted to savor it. In point of fact, it was the last Sutcliff book I read.

Many years flowed under the bridge of my life and I'd occasionally think about those Sutcliff books I'd tried so hard to find and never did. I always remembered The Eagle of the Ninth with a special place in my heart: it became one of those primogenitor books for me, one that burned like a steady light in the back of my imagination. My character from The Making Blood, Caius Cassivellaunus, was a kind of tribute to those books. Because of them I was fascinated by Dark Age Britain and always wanted to write something about it.

Writing about Caius, I think, is what finally prompted me to remember Ms. Sutcliff and the profound effect she'd had on my imagination. I started looking for those books online. I didn't have to look far. Amazon had a newly published copy of Eagle and some of the others. I immediately bought Eagle and when it arrived, I put it in the To Be Read Pile...and never read it. I was afraid to read it, truth be told, afraid that it wouldn't be as special as I remembered, and then that luminous place in my heart would be tarnished. It must have sat in that pile for four or five years until last week when I came across Rosemary Sutcliff again while researching something else on the Net. It was time to take a chance, I thought.

I'm thrilled to report that I love this book as much as I loved it all those years ago, that practically every page tells me just how much of Ms. Sutcliff's style and worldview I internalized, how she taught me so much about telling a damned good story with heart. I owe her a great deal.

I owe the teacher who gave me that book so many years ago a great deal, too. Rarely do teachers ever find out how far the ripples spread from their good deeds, from those they teach and out into the world. Teachers create a little piece of eternity inside their students when they do things like this, the ripples spreading on in little and big ways, as long as someone remembers and shares what they remember with the people they know.

Comments

[rhonawestbrook.livejournal.com]

This post really touched me.

A teacher blackmailed me into a short story competition in college(my grammar and class attendance was beyond pitiful) and because of her, I am a writer today. I won the contest I NEVER would have entered(or even known about)with the first short story I had ever written and I owe this to her. She saw something in me I didn't see and never would have seen.

Mary Wilcox died before I recognized what she'd done for me. I didn't have a chance to thank her, but I will NEVER NEVER forget it. Never.

[pjthompson]

That's the sorrow of it, that sometimes it's years too late by the time we realize. But the fact that you'll never forget is probably the best tribute you could give her anyway. At least I like to think so.

[(Anonymous)]

Oddly enough, I read that one too, in Junior High. Still remember it fondly.

[cathemery.livejournal.com]

So my brain pops up this old red hardback and says, "Sword at Sunset!" and I call my mom and ask her to go upstairs and see if there's an old red book up there . .. .and she calls back and says no, and is it a science fiction book, and I repeat no, it's an old red hardback, and she says, "Oh!".

In that tone of voice I really didn't want to hear. And it turns out she got rid of an unknown number of books up there "in the last six months?" "less. I thought you'd taken what you wanted from up there" and I sigh a little say no problem, it's not important.

Trying to satisfy my curiosity I search around to see if I can find out anything about the plot of Sword at Sunset and I think it isn't the book I'm remembering, but a book I saw many times at a local store in the last few years.

So now I've got this old red hardback of unknown title rattling around in my empty memory. All I can remember of it is that it was set in or on or near Mont St Michel. And it probably isn't out at the farm any more, so I will likely never find it.

I'm glad you enjoyed your book.

A more pertinent story would be how a friend of a relative's sister recommended Zenna Henderson to me and how much I loved the ZH books. Ripples are good. :)

[morewineplease.livejournal.com]

This is lovely, Pam. I'm thrilled that you're thrilled. :)

[pjthompson]

Thank you--whoever you are. :-)

[pjthompson]

What a ripple! No, the Sutcliff Sword at Sunset wasn't set on Mont St Michel. It was set in Dark Ages Britain. Though it's been so long since I read it, *maybe* they took a trip over to MSM--who knows?

Ripples are good. :)

They are wonderful things. :-)

[pjthompson]

Thanks! I take my thrills where I can get them. :-)

[kmkibble75.livejournal.com]

Coming from a family of teachers (mostly in my mom's generation), I'm used to hearing the bad parts of the profession... but I hope they all realize just how much of an effect they've undoubtedly had on young lives.

Personally, I point to my junior year English teacher, I believe his name was Mr. Broadbine, who unintentionally turned me on to writing with a few of his assignments regarding the movie Excalibur and Arthurian legend.

[pjthompson]

The thing is, I don't think many of them do find out what they've inspired because sometimes it's not until years later that their students realize it (if they ever do). Teaching is a profession that has to be done on faith--the faith that something you do will make a difference.

The one that inspired me to write was Miss Cooper in second grade. And she never had any idea she'd inspired a lifetime obsession.