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The Sword in the Stone
T. H. White
The extraordinary story of a boy called Wart – ignored by everyone except his tutor, Merlyn – who goes on to become King Arthur.When Merlyn the magician comes to tutor Sir Ector's sons Kay and the Wart, schoolwork suddenly becomes much more fun. After all, who wouldn't enjoy being turned into a fish, or a badger, or a snake? But Merlyn has very particular plans for the Wart.This edition of T.H White’s classic story includes a special “Why You’ll Love This Book” introduction by bestselling-author, Garth Nix.
Copyright (#ulink_9160ebb8-1a72-506b-ad11-977569b7f870)
First published in Great Britain by William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd in 1938
This edition published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2016
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
Text copyright © T H White 1938
Illustrations copyright © Robert Shadbolt 1998
Why you’ll Love This Book copyright © Garth Nix 2008
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2016
Cover illustration © Manuel Šumberac 2016
T. H. White and Robert Shadbolt assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780007263493
Ebook Edition © 2016 ISBN: 9780007370740
Version: 2016-07-26
ForSir Thomas MaleoreKnight
***
“I pray you all, gentlemen and gentlewomen that readeth this book, from the beginning to the ending, pray for me while I am on live, that God send me good deliverance, and when I’m dead, I pray you all pray for my soul.”
Sir Thomas Maleore, Knight.
July 31
, 1485.
Why You’ll Love This Book by Garth Nix (#ulink_6ddba351-8b2e-5cc0-9319-df8e16209b71)
The Sword in the Stone is one of my favourite books, and one that I read again every three or four years – which confirms its position as one of the most significant books in my life. I have many hundreds if not thousands of books that I like very much and may have read twice, but the number of books that I continually go back to and have read at least half a dozen times is much more limited.
Writing this piece has made me think about why I keep coming back to The Sword in the Stone and why has it lasted so well, from my first reading at the age of twelve to my very recent reading at the age of forty-four (practically an ancient of days, or so my twelve year-old self would have thought).
So why do I keep re-reading The Sword in the Stone? Is it the brilliant way in which T. H. White mixes up the modern, the historical and the mythic? Absolutely. Is it the wonderful story, which though based on the legend of King Arthur offers so much more from between and behind the scenes of the myth? Definitely. Is it because of the characters, from the sympathetic but realistic portrait of an orphan boy who will one day become a king to that most creatively-invented wizard of any book, the living backwards through time Merlyn. Of course.
I love the book for all these things, and more. It is a book full of rich details that you don’t always notice the first time through, small asides and historical titbits that if you want to investigate will lead you into all sorts of fascinating stuff, from falconry to medieval hunting terms to satirical comment on 1930s British society, with side-trips through philosophy, sociology, zoology and doubtless several other ‘ologies.
But even though the book is packed with what might be called pre-Internet hotlinks to amazing information – and personally I was led to all kinds of other books by White – you don’t need to know or care about all the great depth of knowledge that underpins the novel. You won’t be put off by White’s cleverness or erudition, because the story comes first, and The Sword in the Stone is always a cracking good read.
Finally, all I can add is to say that ever since I was twelve, I have wanted a wizard’s workroom exactly like Merlyn’s, with everything that is described in the book, from the real corkindrill hanging from the rafters to the complete set of cigarette cards depicting wildfowl by Peter Scott. Those few pages describing Merlyn’s room offer a prime example of the genius of T. H. White, for in that scene he mixes references to his contemporary time of the 1930s with history, myth and legend. He makes it work and be real and true, and it is strong enough to stick in the mind of the reader not just while they read the book, but forever. I may not have managed to get a room like Merlyn’s, but I don’t really need to, because all I have to do is open up The Sword in the Stone, and I will be there, and can once again inhabit and enjoy one of the greatest and most influential fantasy novels of the last hundred years.
Garth Nix
Garth Nix is an internationally bestselling author of sci-fi and fantasy, his work includes The Old Kingdom trilogy and the Keys to the Kingdom series. Before becoming a full time writer, he worked as a book publicist, a publisher’s sales representative and an editor. Along the way he was also a part-time soldier in the Australian Army Reserve. To date his books have sold millions of copies worldwide, and have won numerous prizes including the Aurealis award.
CONTENTS
Cover (#ud08545ec-5310-50b2-a01a-6d59269def51)
Title Page (#u92623de6-35a0-5e0c-8e53-b3ba985ec9d7)
Copyright (#u2aff1e6b-61a1-522f-9998-5c40e1f3ca1c)
Dedication (#uede8a9fe-3659-58a7-b46d-b62e45402451)
Why You’ll Love This Book by Garth Nix (#u3af10ca5-bd79-560c-a9db-c508e0519d33)
Chapter One (#ubdc03a76-aa07-5a57-906a-5d3a38c9c363)
Chapter Two (#ud8afb229-52c3-537f-b5a6-44833623b846)
Chapter Three (#u91b89c97-ea35-53bc-8e6f-68acddf61639)
Chapter Four (#u42f170f0-5662-5d93-b607-e41ad0ee01bb)
Chapter Five (#u38dbeeb5-2a9f-5087-896e-1807d4071656)
Chapter Six (#u882f9c00-640c-5f85-9582-9823766784f0)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
More Than A Story (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Also by T. H. White (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_561796b8-1fd5-5742-b6c3-011eb11a09dc)
On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays it was Court Hand and Summulae Logicales, while the rest of the week it was the Organon, Repetition and Astrology. The governess was always getting muddled with her astrolabe, and when she got specially muddled she would take it out on the Wart by rapping his knuckles. She did not rap Kay’s knuckles because when Kay grew older he would be Sir Kay, and the master of the estate. The Wart was called the Wart because it rhymed with Art, which was short for his real name. Kay had given him the nickname. Kay was not called anything but Kay, because he was too dignified to have a nickname and would have flown into a passion if anybody had tried to give him one. The governess had red hair and some mysterious wound from which she derived a lot of prestige by showing it to all the women of the castle, behind closed doors. It was believed to be where she sat down, and to have been caused by sitting on a broken bottle at a picnic by mistake. Eventually she offered to show it to Sir Ector, who was Kay’s father, had hysterics and was sent away. They found out afterwards that she had been in a lunatic hospital for three years.
In the afternoons the programme was: Mondays and Fridays, tilting and horsemanship; Tuesdays, hawking; Wednesdays, fencing; Thursdays, archery; Saturdays, the theory of chivalry, with the proper measures to be blown on all occasions, terminology of the chase and hunting etiquette. If you did the wrong thing at the mort or the undoing, for instance, you were bent over the body of the dead beast and smacked with the flat side of a sword. This was called being bladed. It was horseplay, a sort of joke like being shaved when crossing the line. Kay was not bladed, although he often went wrong.
After they had got rid of the governess, Sir Ector said, “After all, damn it all, we can’t have the boys runnin’ about all day like hooligans, after all, can we, damn it all? Ought to be havin’ a first-rate eddication, at their age. When I was their age I was doin’ all this Latin and stuff at five o’clock every mornin’. Happiest time of my life. Pass the port.”
Sir Grummore Grummursum, who was staying the night because he had been benighted out questin’ after a specially long run, said that when he was their age he was swished every mornin’ because he would go hawkin’ instead of learnin’. He attributed to this weakness the fact that he could never get beyond the Future Simple of Utor. It was a third of the way down the left-hand page, he said. He thought it was page ninety-seven. He passed the port.
Sir Ector said, “Had a good quest today?”
Sir Grummore said, “Oh, not so bad. Rattlin’ good day, in fact. Found a chap called Sir Bruce Saunce Pité choppin’ off a maiden’s head in Weedon Bushes, ran him to Mixbury Plantation in the Bicester, where he doubled back, and lost him in Wicken Wood. Must have been a good twenty-five miles as he ran.”
“A straight-necked ’un,” said Sir Ector.
“But about these boys and all this Latin and that,” added Sir Ector. “Amo, amas, you know, and runnin’ about like hooligans: what would you advise?”
“Ah,” said Sir Grummore, laying his finger by his nose and winking at the port, “that takes a deal of thinkin’ about, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so.”
“Don’t mind at all,” said Sir Ector. “Very kind of you to say anythin’. Much obliged, I’m sure. Help yourself to port.”
“Good port this,” said Sir Grummore.
“Get it from a friend of mine,” said Sir Ector.
“But about these boys,” said Sir Grummore. “How many of them are there, do you know?”
“Two,” said Sir Ector, “counting them both, that is.”
“Couldn’t send them to Eton, I suppose?” inquired Sir Grummore cautiously. “Long way and all that, we know.”
“Isn’t so much the distance,” said Sir Ector, “but that giant What’s-’is-name is in the way. Have to pass through his country, you understand.”
“What is his name?”
“Can’t recollect it at the moment, not for the life of me. Fellow that lives by the burbly water.”
“Ah, Galapas,” said Sir Grummore.
“That’s the very chap.”
“The only other thing,” said Sir Grummore, “is to have a tutor.”
“You mean a fellow who teaches you,” said Sir Ector wisely.
“That’s it,” said Sir Grummore. “A tutor, you know, a fellow who teaches you.”
“Have some more port,” said Sir Ector. “You need it after all this questin’.”
“Splendid day,” said Sir Grummore. “Only they never seem to kill nowadays. Run twenty-five miles and then mark to ground or lose him altogether. The worst is when you start a fresh quest.”
“We kill all our giants cubbin’,” said Sir Ector. “After that they give you a fine run, but get away.”
“Run out of scent,” said Sir Grummore, “I dare say. It’s always the same with these big giants in a big country. They run out of scent.”
“But even if you were to have a tutor,” said Sir Ector. “I don’t see how you would get him.”
“Advertise,” said Sir Grummore.
