The Book of Three

“In some cases […] we learn more by looking for the answer to a question and not finding it than we do from learning the answer itself.”

Dallben knows that Taran is impulsive and impatient. He plants in the boy’s mind an idea to help him during his quest—that the process of the journey is more important than the destination.

The adult world is far different from that imagined by an ambitious 13-year-old, and Taran’s heady fantasies of heroism may well prove false. Taran will need the ability to learn from his failures if he expects to have successes. In that respect, it’s more important to be curious than certain.

“Well, that is one of the three foundations of learning: see much, study much, suffer much.”

Coll notices the burns on Taran’s hands and knows the boy has tried to open the Book of Three volume without permission and received a hot shock as a result. Reading and study are vital, but there’s a different education learning through suffering: It teaches a person an important lesson about life in a vivid way that gets etched into memory. It’s the first of many such lessons awaiting Taran as he begins his adventure.

“It is not the trappings that make the prince […] nor, indeed, the sword that makes the warrior.”

One of the book’s lessons is that it’s foolish to underestimate someone because of their appearance. Gwydion, far from home, traveling incognito, and hiding from enemies, has the rough features of a woodland resident. Gwydion’s point in the above lines is that looks can deceive, and sometimes that’s the goal. Taran must learn to see deeper into people and not assume that their exterior defines their inner qualities. 

“‘I don’t think I have any kinsmen. I don’t know who my parents were. Dallben has never told me. I suppose,’ he added, turning his face away, ‘I don’t even know who I am.’ ‘In a way,’ answered Gwydion, ‘that is something we must all discover for ourselves.’”

Taran learns an important lesson from his hero: It’s not someone’s heritage but their mind and spirit that decides their character. Anyone can come out of nowhere to become great, and every person has qualities that can produce a life worth living. Everyone, Gwydion says, must discover their true selves—even those with kin.

“‘Coll? A hero? But…he’s so bald!’ Gwydion laughed and shook his head. ‘Assistant Pig-Keeper,’ he said, ‘you have curious notions about heroes. I have never known courage to be judged by the length of a man’s hair. Or, for the matter of that, whether he has any hair at all.’”

Gwydion advises Taran against prejudging others. A major theme of the book is that people should be ranked, if at all, by their hearts rather than by the shape or color of their bodies (or their hair length). Coll has long since earned his accolades as a great hero; his aging body merely obscures a valiant spirit and an eternally youthful desire to do what he can for others. Taran’s idea of heroism isn’t yet nuanced enough to recognize the heroes who are around him. As the book progresses, he will learn more about The Myth and Reality of Heroism.

“[…] it’s very thoughtful of you to say that. It shows a kind heart, and I think that’s so much more important than being clever.”

Eilonwy quickly sees past Taran’s disheveled appearance to his decency. It’s the beginning of a great friendship—one that, for a long time, she will recognize better than he does. The goodness that shines from him encourages her to pursue their new friendship. The above quote sums up a major message of the book: that compassion is more important than wit or superficial appearances.

“‘I’m sure I don’t know where we are.’ ‘I knew we’d end up being lost. I could have told you that.’ ‘I didn’t say I was lost,’ the girl protested. ‘I only said I didn’t know where I was. There’s a big difference. When you’re lost, you really don’t know where you are. When you just don’t happen to know where you are at the moment, that’s something else.’”

Eilonwy is relentlessly optimistic and endlessly inventive. Her sense of adventure, courage, and cheerful bent seem to get her out of any fix. This allows her to move toward novel situations instead of shying away, and, when things get difficult, to come up with a rational solution. Thus, she’s never lost but always in the process of finding where she is. It’s an attitude Taran will learn to emulate instead of being fearful and angry in every crisis.

“‘There is risk enough,’ Taran declared, ‘without having to worry about a girl.’ Eilonwy put her hands on her hips. Her eyes flashed. ‘I don’t like being called “a girl” and “this girl” as if I didn’t have a name at all. It’s like having your head put in a sack. If you’ve made your decision, I’ve made my own. I don’t see how you’re going to stop me. If you,’ she hurried on, pointing at the bard, ‘try to conduct me to my mean, stupid kinsmen—and they’re hardly related to me in the first place—that harp will be in pieces around your ears!’”

Eilonwy has little patience for Taran’s casual chauvinism. He assumes females need male protection and that they can’t take care of themselves. He thinks this way despite several signs that Eilonwy is quite capable, perhaps more so than Taran. It might be she, rather than he, who can best make the journey to warn Cael Dathyl and find Hen Wen. By standing up to Taran and not being a pushover, she shows that she’s at least his equal.

“In Caer Dallben, [Taran] had dreamed of being a hero. But dreaming, he had come to learn, was easy; and at Caer Dallben no lives depended on his judgment. He longed for Gwydion’s strength and guidance. His own strength, he feared, was not equal to his task.”

Taran realizes that being a hero requires many more skills and resources than he has. Arrayed against him are the armies of the Horned King, the powerfully evil Arawn, and the wicked Queen Achren. On his side are a horse, some weapons, and a mismatched trio of associates. His life back home as a simple, slightly bored farm boy suddenly holds great appeal.

“‘I can’t make sense out of that girl,’ he said to the bard. ‘Can you?’ ‘Never mind,’ Fflewddur said. ‘We aren’t really expected to.’”

Taran and Fflewddur see girls as being mysteries beyond understanding, a common notion among boys and men. They ignore Eilonwy because they assume that, as a female, she is simple and weak, a person to be protected but ignored. Part of Taran’s growth and transformation as a character will be recognizing that Eilonwy is intelligent and worthy of respect.

Eilonwy’s biggest need, within the group, is to receive Taran’s admiration. While he does admire and even love her, tradition and his own bias prevent him from expressing his feelings. Thus, the two fall into a comedy of errors, missing opportunities to become more effective teammates and closer friends.

“‘Taran of Caer Dallben, I’m not speaking to you any more.’ ‘At home,’ Taran said—to himself, Eilonwy had already pulled a cloak over her head and was feigning sleep—’nothing ever happened. Now, everything happens. But somehow I can never seem to make it come out right.’ With a sigh, he held his bow ready and began his turn at guard.”

Taran also must struggle to get along with Eilonwy, who takes everything he says as an insult. Eilonwy and Taran are drawn to each other but don’t know how to express it without scraping each other’s already-raw nerves—a classic element of the “enemies to lovers” trope. Taran’s inability to get along with Eilonwy is one more thing that reminds him that he’s not really ready to be a hero.

“You know how chickens are, imagining the world coming to an end one moment, then pecking corn the next.”

Medwyn alludes to how Dallben’s chickens flew away from the approach of the evil Horned King, landed in Medwyn’s valley, and settled in calmly as if nothing happened. Were people willing, similarly, to abandon their worries and recuperate after trouble, they’d be better prepared for the next danger. It’s a lesson for Taran, a worrier. Medwyn’s valley has its effect on him: Despite himself, Taran relaxes and recovers from the stresses of his recent adventures.

“‘Every living thing deserves our respect,’ said Medwyn, knitting his shaggy brows, ‘be it humble or proud, ugly or beautiful.’”

The animal sorcerer explains the central message of the book to Taran: how everyone, in spite of looks or social status, is worthy. Taran’s grudging respect for Gurgi illustrates how, when one observes strange or unfamiliar beings long enough, one learns to understand and even respect them. Medwyn has mastered that art, and now animals come to him for his universal kindness.

“‘Neither refuse to give help when it is needed,’ Medwyn continued, ‘nor refuse to accept it when it is offered.’”

Medwyn explains a fundamental principle of wise fairness: Always honor the other person’s needs or good intentions. The one who offers to help means well, and, though not every attempt to help succeeds, all such offers are worthy, and most can be adjusted until they produce good results. Those who refuse to give or receive aid treat others disrespectfully, and they pay the price of loneliness. Taran already displays the impulse to assist others. Medwyn recognizes and enhances the boy’s goodness with sage advice.

“I have studied the race of men […] I have seen that alone you stand as weak reeds by a lake. You must learn to help yourselves, that is true; but you must also learn to help one another.”

Medwyn perceives humanity as ineffectual when people act as individuals but mighty when in groups. He uses a simile, where something is compared to something else with “like” or “as,” to describe being alone, comparing it to fragile reeds: “I have seen that alone you stand as weak reeds by a lake” (bold guide’s emphasis). Though it’s important that people take care of themselves, Medwyn suggests, it’s vital that they do so in preparation for their work together. Greatness doesn’t spring from lone heroes but from teams who work toward a common goal. An individual may get the credit, but, without the efforts of everyone on the team, the hero has no chance to shine. Thus, a hero is made of many people.

“Do you not believe that animals know grief and fear and pain? The world of men is not an easy one for them.”

Medwyn is a champion of animals, who are more vulnerable than humans. Animals suffer just as much as do mistreated people, but they have fewer recourses to protect themselves. This, all by itself, tends to inure callous people to the injuries they inflict: If the creatures don’t fight back, then who cares what they think? It’s the attitude of a cruel person, not that of a compassionate soul. The book illustrates how Medwyn, in protecting animals, is just as much of a hero—if not more so—than a man who fights in battle.

“It is not given to men to know the ends of their journeys […] It may be that you will never return to the places dearest to you. But how can that matter, if what you must do is here and now?”

Medwyn offers wisdom to Taran: Life is to be lived in the present. Regrets over things lost will fade when a person becomes fully involved in whatever they’re doing. Wherever they are is the most important destination.

“‘If you don’t listen to what somebody tells you,’ Eilonwy remarked, ‘it’s like putting your fingers in your ears and jumping down a well.’”

Taran wants to change the route through the mountains to a quicker one, but Eilonwy points out that Medwyn would have told them to take the faster trail only if he’d thought it safe. Taran’s pride, impatience, and inexperience once again put him at odds with cooler heads. He must live with his error. Eilonwy uses a simile to describe Taran’s refusal to listen, using “like” to compare his not listening to “putting your fingers in your ears and jumping down a well.”

“It’s always nice to see two friends meet again. It’s like waking up with the sun shining.”

Eilonwy makes this comment when Taran reunites with his pig Hen Wen. The moment speaks to an underlying theme of the book, that what really matters in life is the loving friendship that all creatures crave, even if it’s between different species, and regardless of social standing. Eilonwy again uses a simile, comparing the reunion between friends to “waking up with the sun shining.”

“I was hoping you’d wake up soon. You can’t imagine how boring it is to sit and watch somebody sleep. It’s like counting stones in a wall.”

In her sarcastic way, Eilonwy tells Taran how much she cares for him after he regains consciousness. She wouldn’t have put up with the boredom except for the hope that Taran would finally wake up. Her vigil testifies to her love for him. Again, she uses a simile, comparing her waiting to “counting stones in a wall.”

“Once you have courage to look upon evil, seeing it for what it is and naming it by its true name, it is powerless against you, and you can destroy it.”

Gwydion confronted death and extracted its secrets. He learns that evil disguises itself, and that revealing its true nature—by uttering its real name—forces evil into the light of day. The brightness of understanding sterilizes it and renders it harmless.

“I have no just cause for pride […] It was Gwydion who destroyed the Horned King, and Hen Wen helped him do it. But Gurgi, not I, found her. Doli and Fflewddur fought gloriously while I was wounded by a sword I had no right to draw. And Eilonwy was the one who took the sword from the barrow in the first place. As for me, what I mostly did was make mistakes.”

Taran learns important lessons from his great quest: humility, appreciation for his comrades, and a willingness to accept responsibility for his failings. All of his companions were heroic, and, though he would deny it, it’s clear that he too is a hero.

“‘Does it truly matter,’ Dallben went on, ‘which of you did what, since all shared the same goal and the same danger? Nothing we do is ever done entirely alone. There is a part of us in everyone else […]’”

Dallben speaks to shared humanity: “There is a part of us in everyone else […].” He points out that it was the entire group, and not any one person, who achieved success. Without the others, nothing would have been accomplished. Together, they found a path through all obstacles, located Hen Wen, and got a timely message through to the Sons of Don and Prince Gwydion. Everything worked out for the best; even the mistakes helped the travelers on their quest.