The Race of the Birkebeiners
By Lise Lunge-Larsen
Illustrated by Mary Azarian
32 pp. 2001. Boston, MA
Houghton Mifflin Company, $16.00
(Ages 5 to 8)
In 1264, when Sturla Tordsson first wrote the story of small Prince Håkon’s flight to safety, he couldn’t have known where the story would end. Certainly he couldn’t have predicted that his dramatic account would be re-enacted each year in Norway as skiers, burdened the royal child’s equivalent in weight, re-trace part of the hazardous route taken by the infant Håkon and his guardians. Nor could he have predicted that, nearly 800 years later, both children and adults would still be spellbound by the story.
It goes something like this:
It’s late at night on Christmas Eve in the year 1206 when a knock on the governor’s door reveals the fugitives, Inga of Varteig and her infant son Prince Håkon. His own father dead just three weeks before his birth, Håkon was now in danger from the Baglers who wished to challenge his claim to the throne. An escape to Nidaros (now Trondheim), they determined, was his best bet, as there he would be under the powerful protection of the Birkebeiner chieftains (so named because of the birch bark worn around their legs).
A small group of those loyal to Prince Håkon led the way through the harsh mountains and terrible cold, at times having only melted snow to feed the child. The entourage made it safely to Nidaros, but there they were confronted by Bagler claims that Håkon was not really the legitimate heir to his father’s legacy. His mother, Inga of Varteig, was forced to prove her virtue and honesty by undergoing the Ordeal of the Burning Irons. By miracle, her hands showed no trace of the searing burn three days later and Prince Håkon’s standing was secured.
Marvelously illustrated in bold color by the woodcuts of Mary Azarian, The Race of the Birkebeiners is an exceptional attempt at preserving (and sometimes self-consciously embroidering) the beginning history of Norway’s Golden Years. Lise Lunge-Larsen’s prose is straightforward, without being preachy or condescending. Whereas some children’s books are written for children and others more for adults, Lunge-Larsen has attained a harmonious balance by dressing the complexity of the story line in simple, even clothing.
Azarian’s woodcut illustrations reveal similar skill, with an obvious attention to both the stylistic influences of the middle ages and the wholesome crispness of Norwegian woodworking. The vivid coloring and highly narrative scenes allow even pre-literates (my daughter is only four months old) entry into the heroic tale.
Go To Page: 1
