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Excerpt ​

Excerpt from The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, by Howard Pyle

PREFACE

FROM THE AUTHOR TO THE READER

You who so plod amid serious things that you feel it shame to give
yourself up even for a few short moments to mirth and joyousness in the
land of Fancy; you who think that life hath nought to do with innocent
laughter that can harm no one; these pages are not for you. Clap to the
leaves and go no farther than this, for I tell you plainly that if you
go farther you will be scandalized by seeing good, sober folks of real
history so frisk and caper in gay colors and motley that you would
not know them but for the names tagged to them. Here is a stout, lusty
fellow with a quick temper, yet none so ill for all that, who goes by
the name of Henry II. Here is a fair, gentle lady before whom all the
others bow and call her Queen Eleanor. Here is a fat rogue of a fellow,
dressed up in rich robes of a clerical kind, that all the good folk call
my Lord Bishop of Hereford. Here is a certain fellow with a sour temper
and a grim look--the worshipful, the Sheriff of Nottingham. And here,
above all, is a great, tall, merry fellow that roams the greenwood and
joins in homely sports, and sits beside the Sheriff at merry feast,
which same beareth the name of the proudest of the Plantagenets--Richard
of the Lion's Heart. Beside these are a whole host of knights, priests,
nobles, burghers, yeomen, pages, ladies, lasses, landlords, beggars,
peddlers, and what not, all living the merriest of merry lives, and all
bound by nothing but a few odd strands of certain old ballads (snipped
and clipped and tied together again in a score of knots) which draw
these jocund fellows here and there, singing as they go.

Explanation ​

Howard Pyle’s Preface to The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood (1883) is a playful, self-aware introduction that sets the tone for his retelling of the legendary outlaw’s tales. Written in a mock-address to the reader, the passage serves as both a disclaimer and an invitation, blending humor, meta-commentary, and a defense of imaginative storytelling. Below is a detailed breakdown of the text’s meaning, context, and literary craftsmanship, with an emphasis on the excerpt itself.

1. Context & Purpose ​

Pyle’s Robin Hood is a reimagining of medieval ballads (like "A Gest of Robyn Hode") for a 19th-century audience, particularly children and young adults. The preface acts as a threshold—a liminal space where Pyle:

  • Defends fantasy against Victorian-era puritanism (which often dismissed frivolity as unproductive).
  • Acknowledges historical liberties by blending real figures (e.g., Henry II, Richard the Lionheart) with folkloric ones (Robin Hood).
  • Subverts expectations by framing his work as unserious—a radical stance in an era that prized moralistic literature.

Pyle’s Robin Hood is not a grim outlaw but a merry trickster, reflecting the author’s belief in the value of joy and playfulness in literature.

2. Themes in the Excerpt ​

A. The Defense of Mirth & Imagination ​

The preface opens with a direct challenge to "serious" readers who scorn "mirth and joyousness in the land of Fancy." Pyle:

  • Personifies "Fancy" (imagination) as a physical place, elevating it to a realm worth visiting.
  • Contrasts "plodding" (dull, laborious living) with the vibrancy of storytelling, implying that those who reject joy are missing a vital part of life.
  • Uses irony: The phrase "life hath nought to do with innocent laughter" is sarcastic—Pyle argues that laughter is essential to life.

This reflects the Romantic and Pre-Raphaelite influences of the time, which valued emotion, nature, and medievalism over industrial-era rigidity.

B. Historical Playfulness & Anachronism ​

Pyle deliberately blurs history and legend, listing real medieval figures (Henry II, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Richard I) alongside fictional or exaggerated ones (the Sheriff of Nottingham, the "fat rogue" Bishop). His tone is winking and irreverent:

  • "Frisk and caper in gay colors and motley": Describes historical figures as if they’re actors in a carnival, undermining their gravitas.
  • "Names tagged to them": Suggests these figures are costumed players in a story, not solemn historical icons.
  • "Snipped and clipped and tied together": Admits his sources are patchwork ballads, not rigorous history—embracing the oral tradition’s fluidity.

This metafictional approach (commenting on the artificiality of the story) was innovative for children’s literature, which typically presented moral tales as true.

C. The Celebration of Community & Merriment ​

The preface culminates in a carnivalesque vision of medieval life:

  • "A whole host of knights, priests, nobles... beggars, peddlers": Pyle democratizes the setting, mixing classes in a shared, joyful existence.
  • "Bound by nothing but... old ballads": The only "rules" are the loose threads of folklore, freeing the story from realism.
  • "Singing as they go": Evokes the oral tradition of ballads, where stories were performed, not read silently.

This reflects the Robin Hood mythos as a subversive, communal space where hierarchy is temporarily suspended (a theme later explored in works like The Canterbury Tales or Gargantua and Pantagruel).

3. Literary Devices & Style ​

A. Direct Address & Tone ​

  • "You who so plod...": The second-person apostrophe creates intimacy but also divides the audience—those who embrace fun vs. those who don’t.
  • Imperatives: "Clap to the leaves and go no farther" mimics a stage direction, reinforcing the performative nature of the text.
  • Colloquialisms: "Fat rogue," "stout, lusty fellow" give the prose a folksy, oral quality, as if Pyle is a storyteller speaking aloud.

B. Humor & Irony ​

  • Understatement: "None so ill for all that" (about Henry II’s temper) downplays his infamous rage (e.g., his conflict with Thomas Becket).
  • Exaggeration: The Bishop is a "fat rogue in rich robes"—a comic villain more akin to a pantomime than a historical figure.
  • Parody of Historical Writing: Pyle mimics the dry tone of chronicles but fills it with absurdity (e.g., Richard the Lionheart sitting beside the Sheriff at a "merry feast"—an anachronism, as Richard was mostly absent from England).

C. Imagery & Sensory Language ​

  • "Gay colors and motley": Evokes the visual spectacle of medieval festivals (motley = a jester’s patchwork clothes).
  • "Jocund fellows... singing as they go": Auditory imagery that reinforces the musicality of ballads.
  • "Odd strands... snipped and clipped": A tactile metaphor for how Pyle stitches together disparate sources.

D. Structure & Rhythm ​

  • Long, winding sentences mimic the rambling style of oral storytelling, with clauses piling up like a ballad’s verses.
  • Repetition: "Here is a..." creates a litany-like effect, as if Pyle is introducing characters on a stage.
  • Contrast: The shift from solemn warning ("these pages are not for you") to boisterous cataloging ("knights, priests, nobles...") mirrors the book’s tone—seriousness giving way to merriment.

4. Significance of the Passage ​

A. Redefining Children’s Literature ​

Pyle’s preface challenges the didacticism of 19th-century children’s books (e.g., moral fables). By prioritizing joy over instruction, he paves the way for later writers like J.R.R. Tolkien (The Hobbit) and C.S. Lewis (The Chronicles of Narnia), who also blended folklore with playful narration.

B. Postmodern Before Postmodernism ​

The preface’s self-awareness ("snipped and clipped ballads") and blending of fact/fiction anticipate postmodern meta-narratives (e.g., The Princess Bride’s framing device). Pyle invites the reader to collude in the illusion, a technique later used in films like Shrek or Deadpool.

C. Robin Hood as a Cultural Archetype ​

Pyle’s version softens Robin Hood from a violent outlaw (as in early ballads) to a merry prankster, shaping the modern image of Robin as a lovable rogue. This interpretation influences later adaptations, from Disney’s Robin Hood (1973) to Men in Tights (1993).

D. The Power of Folklore ​

By framing his work as tied to "old ballads," Pyle elevates oral tradition as a legitimate source of truth—not despite its inconsistencies, but because of them. This aligns with Romantic ideals (e.g., Wordsworth’s "spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings") and folk revival movements of the 19th century.

5. Close Reading of Key Lines ​

  • "You who so plod amid serious things...":

    • "Plod" suggests a joyless, mechanical existence—the antithesis of Robin Hood’s freedom.
    • The phrase "land of Fancy" capitalizes "Fancy" to personify imagination as a destination, like Narnia or Oz.

  • "Here is a stout, lusty fellow with a quick temper, yet none so ill for all that, who goes by the name of Henry II.":

    • "Lusty" and "quick temper" hint at Henry’s historical reputation (e.g., his conflict with Becket), but "none so ill" winks at the reader—we’re not taking this too seriously.
    • The juxtaposition of "Henry II" (a king) with "lusty fellow" (a common man) collapses hierarchy.

  • "All living the merriest of merry lives...":

    • The triple repetition of "merry" is incantatory, like a ballad’s refrain.
    • "Bound by nothing but... ballads": Suggests freedom from rules, a core Robin Hood theme (stealing from the rich to give to the poor is itself a rule-breaking act).

6. Why This Preface Matters Today ​

Pyle’s preface remains relevant because it:

  1. Defends the right to escapism in an era of cynicism (e.g., modern debates over "guilty pleasures").
  2. Celebrates adaptability—how stories evolve with retelling (see: Marvel’s ever-changing canon).
  3. Challenges "serious" literature’s monopoly on value (e.g., genre fiction vs. "literary" works).
  4. Models joy as resistance—in a world of hardship, Pyle argues, laughter is a radical act.

Final Thought: The Preface as a Manifest ​

More than an introduction, this preface is a manifesto for playful storytelling. Pyle doesn’t just invite readers into a tale; he dares them to embrace imagination as a vital, subversive force. In an age of algorithms and efficiency, his defense of "mirth and joyousness in the land of Fancy" feels like a timeless rebellion.

Would a Victorian critic have clapped the leaves shut? Probably. But Pyle wasn’t writing for them—he was writing for the merry fellows, then and now.