In Memoriam

For those of us interested in the worlds of quality childrens' literature, today is a sad day. This past weekend, we lost one of our most loved authors: Brian Jacques, the well-known author of the Redwall series.

Mr. Jacques died last Saturday after an unexpected heart attack at age 71. To my knowledge, and after about twenty minutes of searching, I can't determine what his religious beliefs were, though he's listed as a Roman Catholic on Wikipedia.

Jacques, for those of you who don't know, was the formidable author of more than 20 books in the Redwall series; a world of talking mice, hares, squirrels, shrews and "vermin" (that would be the rats, ferrets, stoats and the like). Full of riddles, quests and adventures, these tales shaped many of my early stories, I will admit--though not any that will ever see the light of day.

Brian Jacques was born in Liverpool on June 15, 1939 and grew up in the area around the Liverpool docks. He led the life of a modern day fairy-tale Jack—out to seek his fortune in whatever adventure he came across; working as a merchant seaman, a railroad worker, a truck driver, folk singer, and a radio host. He originally wrote the Redwall stories for the children at Liverpool’s Royal Wavertree School for the Blind, where he would tell the amazingly rich-textured tales of Redwall and act out the different accents for each animal and describe the food and the landscape and the food and the creatures and—yes, the food.

I remember discovering the book Martin the Warrior about four years ago during the summer reading program at my local library. I picked it up and thought that the mouse on the cover, so bravely brandishing a sword, looked a bit like Reepicheep from C.S. Lewis’ Prince Caspian and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Intrigued, I read the book—and was hooked. Redwall was the place I wanted to be—right up there with Mr. Tumnus’ cave, Cair Paravel, The Shire and Rohan. I would have given anything to have met Martin and his brave friends.

Actually, I probably became a little bit obsessed with Redwall at the time. To the point that—well, have any of you read the books? And do you remember the otter’s hot-root soup? And did you know that there’s a Redwall cookbook? You can see where I’m going with this. I wanted to make that soup so badly that I actually got the library to buy the cookbook (since I couldn’t afford it). Then I painstakingly hand-copied every recipe into a composition notebook and proudly made my hot-root soup (with chicken rather than shrimp)!

As a writer, I loved reading his descriptions. As a reader, I loved turning the page and finding out just what would happen next. And as a child, I was in love with the world of Mossflower woods, Salamandastron, and the many dusty passageways, glimmering heroes, and grimy villains that Brian Jacques painted across my imagination.

It’s sad to me that he—as far as I can see—was not a Christian. I’ll be honest—it gives me something of a sick pang in my stomach. And it gives new life to the verse in Matthew 16, where Jesus tells us that it does no good for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose his soul.

Brian Jacques was a good man and a great author. Among those of us who care for such things, he will be greatly mourned and missed.

When asked what he hoped for about his legacy, Mr. Jacques was quoted as saying, “When my grandchildren are as old as I am, that people will still find my books in bookstores and libraries. I couldn’t ask for more than that. Good children’s literature is the most enduring of popular literature. I hope my work will endure.”

Well, Mr. Jacques, I’m pretty sure it will.