Well, here it is, the book that made me cry, the book I’ll be throwing at anyone who seems vaguely interested in historical fantasy books that introduce children to big ideas and big research in an accessible way. Watch your head! *throws*
Yes, I’m here to tell you a Newbery-honor book is supremely good, follow me for more shocking revelations.
The Inquisitor’s Tale follows three remarkable kids and their magical dog as they try to survive Medieval France. Peasant girl Jeanne has visions of the future and a greyhound who has been loved into immortal sainthood. William is the biracial, illegitimate son of a lord being brought up as a monk; he also happens to have super-strength and fighting skills. Jacob is a Jewish kid who can turn plants into magical healing ointments, unable to heal his own heart after the loss of his parents. Being any of these children in medieval France is complicated, for people are quick to point and yell “Heretic!” if you are too weird or otherwise othered. And once you gain the attention of the King of France himself (by way of obstructing his terrible plans to burn tens of thousands of Jewish texts), well you’d better band up and hope God is looking out for you.
This book has so much to praise. The story was copiously researched and has a charming backstory (Gidwitz spent six-ish years writing it, inspired by some magical time in Europe spent hunting for medieval artifacts with his wife, historian Lauren Mancia). The format is like Chaucer or The Decameron, but the frame story is much more profound than either of those. (Well, I haven’t read The Decameron and it’s been a thousand years since I read Chaucer, and also I’m biased to love everything Gidwitz writes… but besides all that I think you can trust me.) The format is so unique for a kids historical fantasy and it’s wildly successful.
The frame story follows our adult narrator, who has a fascination with the three children that we are not privileged to understand until late in the book. He pieces together the children’s story through the eyes of a tavern full of tipsy locals: the innkeeper, a troubadour, a feisty monk, a mysterious omniscient nun, and more. The book asks big questions of its readers: why does God let terrible things happen? How can we get along in a world that wants us to hate each other? How can a person hold terrible prejudices while otherwise exhibiting kindness?
But also, there’s a farting dragon and a dog who poops where she wants. (The mix of highbrow and lowbrow is a technique Gidwitz has mastered.)
“The Troubadour’s Story” is the section that really catapulted this tale into the heavens for me, and I’ll let you enjoy it without saying anymore. If you like audiobooks, this one is a full(ish) cast to accommodate all the different POVs, and it’s done very well. Though you shouldn’t miss the print edition, which features charming illustrations by Hatem Aly in the style of medieval illuminated manuscripts. It’s primary audience is older elementary and middle school, but I think any adult would find their reading time well spent with this lovely, lovely book. Best read of the year for me by far, and yeah, I know I have three months left!