© 1960 by Poul Anderson
While it has the feel of a short story extended way too long, The High Crusade actually boasts a unique idea: the meeting of the medieval and futuristic worlds. Michael Flynn did it in his superbly moving Eifelheim; in that work the aliens come down to feudal Germany. Here, Poul Anderson literally takes a town in England gearing up for the Crusades and sends it light-years across the galaxy to another planet.
Not quite knowing what to expect, I found myself somewhat in a huff over the treatment of my beloved medievals within the first couple of pages. Without exception they were depicted as bumbling, savage oafs blinded by superstitious devotions to a foolhardy religion. Try getting through the first couple chapters of the Summa Theologiae, Mr. Poul Anderson, my indignant ego grumpily growled.
Then, I got it.
It’s a comedy. And a kind-hearted one at that. One that loves its cast of oafs.
A spaceship lands just outside of Ansby, England, a town swept up with Crusade fever. These aliens are the conquerin’ kind, and it turns out that’s unfortunate for them – they’re no match for Sir Roger and his 13th-century war machine. Before we know it, these “ignorant” medieval warriors have figured out the ship’s controls and weaponry and are in the process of taking over half the galaxy.
There are lots of little SF flourishes, little details here and there, that come as second nature to a master as Anderson. My favorite was an alien race called the Pr?*tans – the ? stands for a whistle and the * for a grunt. Try saying that out loud. Further,
While it has the feel of a short story extended way too long, The High Crusade actually boasts a unique idea: the meeting of the medieval and futuristic worlds. Michael Flynn did it in his superbly moving Eifelheim; in that work the aliens come down to feudal Germany. Here, Poul Anderson literally takes a town in England gearing up for the Crusades and sends it light-years across the galaxy to another planet.
Not quite knowing what to expect, I found myself somewhat in a huff over the treatment of my beloved medievals within the first couple of pages. Without exception they were depicted as bumbling, savage oafs blinded by superstitious devotions to a foolhardy religion. Try getting through the first couple chapters of the Summa Theologiae, Mr. Poul Anderson, my indignant ego grumpily growled.
Then, I got it.
It’s a comedy. And a kind-hearted one at that. One that loves its cast of oafs.
A spaceship lands just outside of Ansby, England, a town swept up with Crusade fever. These aliens are the conquerin’ kind, and it turns out that’s unfortunate for them – they’re no match for Sir Roger and his 13th-century war machine. Before we know it, these “ignorant” medieval warriors have figured out the ship’s controls and weaponry and are in the process of taking over half the galaxy.
There are lots of little SF flourishes, little details here and there, that come as second nature to a master as Anderson. My favorite was an alien race called the Pr?*tans – the ? stands for a whistle and the * for a grunt. Try saying that out loud. Further,
The Pr?*tan was in a box which maintained the heat and poisonous air he needed, and talked through a loud-speaker with an accent worse than my own. I never even tried to know his personal name or rank, for these involved concepts more subtle to the human mind than the books of Maimonides. I thought of him as Tertiary Eggmaster of the Northwest Hive, and privately I named him Ethelbert. … Ethelbert’s tentacled shape, dimly seen through glass, labored with formal courtesies …
There’s a short prologue and epilogue; the novel takes the form of a written document read by an unidentified member of a spacefaring race. Who these people are, revealed in the final paragraphs, is a nice twist which I didn’t see coming. I had guessed wrong.
The High Crusade is a pleasant read, a page-turner; perhaps better suited for young adults though older ones can enjoy the humor and fast-pace of the novel.
I grade it an easy B+.
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