If anybody cares to read a simple tale told simply, I, John Ridd, of the parish of Oare, in the county of Somerset, yeoman and churchwarden, have seen and had a share in some doings of this neighborhood, which I will try to set down in order, God sparing my life and memory. And they who light upon this book should bear in mind not only that I write for the clearing of our parish from ill fame and calumny, but also a thing which will, I trow, appear too often in it, to wit-that I am nothing more than a plain unlettered man, ...
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If anybody cares to read a simple tale told simply, I, John Ridd, of the parish of Oare, in the county of Somerset, yeoman and churchwarden, have seen and had a share in some doings of this neighborhood, which I will try to set down in order, God sparing my life and memory. And they who light upon this book should bear in mind not only that I write for the clearing of our parish from ill fame and calumny, but also a thing which will, I trow, appear too often in it, to wit-that I am nothing more than a plain unlettered man, not read in foreign languages, as a gentleman might be, nor gifted with long words (even in mine own tongue), save what I may have won from the Bible or Master William Shakespeare, whom, in the face of common opinion, I do value highly. In short, I am an ignoramus, but pretty well for a yeoman. My father being of good substance, at least as we reckon in Exmoor, and seized in his own right, from many generations, of one, and that the best and largest, of the three farms into which our parish is divided (or rather the cultured part thereof), he John Ridd, the elder, churchwarden, and overseer, being a great admirer of learning, and well able to write his name, sent me his only son to be schooled at Tiverton, in the county of Devon. For the chief boast of that ancient town (next to its woollen staple) is a worthy grammar-school, the largest in the west of England, founded and handsomely endowed in the year 1604 by Master Peter Blundell, of that same place, clothier. Here, by the time I was twelve years old, I had risen into the upper school, and could make bold with Eutropius and Caesar-by aid of an English version-and as much as six lines of Ovid. Some even said that I might, before manhood, rise almost to the third form, being of a perservering nature; albeit, by full consent of all (except my mother), thick-headed. But that would have been, as I now perceive, an ambition beyond a farmer's son; for there is but one form above it, and that made of masterful scholars, entitled rightly 'monitors'. So it came to pass, by the grace of God, that I was called away from learning, whilst sitting at the desk of the junior first in the upper school, and beginning the Greek verb. - Taken from "Lorna Doone" written by R. D. Blackmore
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I had borrowed this book from the local library, and it became my most favorate upon the first reading. I knew it would be a must to have forever, and I was fortunate enough to find the same edition at Alibris that I had read initially, an illustrated classic. The authors renditioning of the colloquial expressions was challenging, but added to the overall enjoyment. I have additionally rented, then bought the DVD of the same title, through Alibris.
Francesca
Sep 23, 2007
That which endures
Put yourself into a few dark winter nights of Victorian England. No domestic entertainment center, no films or TV or radio. You could go to the music hall or the concert hall or a play. But how often? Besides, it might be snowing. So you read books--to yourself or out loud to the family. And the longer and more discursive the book, the longer it would last and the more you liked it. If it went from one pitch of adventure to another, so much the better. And if you fell in love with the characters, who wanted to leave the fireside? Lorna Doone is that kind of book--a classic which has probably never been out of print. The yeoman hero, John Ridd, falls in love early on with a noblewoman captured by brigands. At their first encounter, she is an enchanting child, but eventually he is embroiled in an attempted rescue of this--of course--exqusitely beautiful young woman. Stay with it, and you will love the good and hiss the bad. A supporting cast of reformed highwayman, mining entrepreneur, Welsh servingmaid, and various other persons of interest will fill a lovely, leisurely few weeks of time that could hardly be better spent.
