Mattimeo (Redwall Series #3)

Mattimeo (Redwall Series #3)

4.6 101
by Brian Jacques
     
 

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The third addition to the beloved Redwall series takes place during the summer of the Golden Plain. Preparation for a great feat are underway at Redwall Abbey, and the young mouse Mattimeo is contributing his share of the labors. But Mattimeo is the son of Mathius, the guardian of Redwall Abbey, and it is this fact that makes him the target of a fiendish kidnapping… See more details below

Overview

The third addition to the beloved Redwall series takes place during the summer of the Golden Plain. Preparation for a great feat are underway at Redwall Abbey, and the young mouse Mattimeo is contributing his share of the labors. But Mattimeo is the son of Mathius, the guardian of Redwall Abbey, and it is this fact that makes him the target of a fiendish kidnapping plot contrived by the vicious fox, Slagar the Cruel. When Mathias and his brave followers abandon heir homes and face enslavement for the return of their children, the captive Mattimeo stands to prove his worth--and an unexpected hero is born.

About the Author:
Brian Jacques was born in Liverpool, England, in 1939. Growing up on the docks of Liverpool, he attended St. John's School. He went on to work as a radio show host, playwright, longshoreman, lorry driver, folk singer and comedian prior to his career as a writer. The father of two sons, Jacques enjoys walking his West Highland Terrier, Teddy and spends most of his time writing. A new Redwall book is introduced once every year.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
The cruel fox Slagar steals a group of young woodland animals from Redwall Abbey--and among them is the great warrior mouse Matthias's son, Mattimeo. Slagar's motive is revenge, but as Matthias and a band of Woodlanders pursue their children's captors far across the desert to a horrible slave kingdom, Slagar attempts to destroy the champion Matthias to make his victory even sweeter. This final book in the Redwall trilogy is a truly thrilling conclusion to a swashbuckling, heroic adventure. Jacques's realistically drawn characters are full of personality, from the most humble bankvole to the foppish, lop-eared rabbit and the vicious, back-stabbing fox. The fierceness with which the Redwallers fight back to save their young lends the story credibility within the realm of the animal kingdom, while at the same time taking wonderful liberties with the imagination. Ages 10-14. (May)
School Library Journal
In this sequel to the animal fantasy Redwall (1987), and its prequel, Mossflower , (1988, both Philomel), Slagar the Cruel, the fox with a twisted mind, repays the hospitality of his hosts, the goodhearted animals of Redwall Abbey, by kidnapping their children. Led by the young mouse Mattimeo (son of the warrior Matthias, hero of Redwall ), the children befriend their fellow captives Auma Badger and Jube Hedgehog as they march toward slavery in the underground rat kingdom of Malkarris. Meanwhile, Matthias leads a rescue mission that joins forces with the fathers of Auma and Jube, and despite brushes with defeat, their camaraderie and good humor never fail. ln a third strand of action, the animals left at Redwall Abbey are besieged by villainous crows. While the book is long and its cast large, the twists of plot and quick changes of scene sweep readers along a swift narrative current. Some readers, however, will question the unabashed celebration of a warrior code, the sentimental acceptance of battle deaths, and the predictable scoundrels. The characters, compared with those in Wind in the Willows , Watership Down , and the picture books of Beatrix Potter, are bland, remaining far too human to become that mythic hybrid of human and animal. Nevertheless, libraries with an audience for the previous books will want this one, too. --Margaret A. Chang, Buxton School, Williamstown, MA

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Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780441006106
Publisher:
Penguin Publishing Group
Publication date:
02/28/1999
Series:
Redwall Series, #3
Edition description:
Reissue
Pages:
448
Sales rank:
130,423
Product dimensions:
6.62(w) x 10.96(h) x 1.21(d)
Age Range:
10 - 14 Years

Read an Excerpt

Book One

Slagar The Cruel

From the diary of John Churchmouse, historian and recorder of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower country.

We are close to the longest day of this season, the Summer of the Golden Plain. Today I took up my ledger and quill to write. It was cool and dim in the quiet of my little study indoors. With a restless spirit I sat, quill in paw, listening to the merry din outside in the sunlit cloisters of our Abbey. I could no longer stand the solitude, that happy sound of revelry drew me outside, yet there was still my recorder's duties to catch up with. Taking ledger and quill, I went out, up the stairs to the top of the outer wall, directly over the Warrior's Cottage, which is the gatehouse at the threshold of Redwall Abbey.

What a glorious day! The sky, painted special blue for the summer, had not a cloud or shadow anywhere, the hot eye of the sun caused bees to drone lazily, while grasshoppers chirruped and sawed endlessly. Out to the west, the great plains stretched away, shimmering and dancing with heat waves to the distant horizon, a breathtaking carpet of kingcup and dandelion mingled with cowslip, never had we ever seen so many yellow blossoms. Abbot Mordalfus named it the Summer of the Golden Plain. What a wise choice. I could see him ambling round the comer by the bell tower, his habit sleeves rolled well up, panting as he helped young woodlanders to carry out forms for seating at the great feast, our eighth season of peace and plenty since the wars.

Otters swam lazily in the Abbey pond, culling edible water plants (but mostly gambolling and playing. You know what otters are like). Small hedgehogs and moles werearound the back at the east side orchard. I could hear them singing as they gathered ripening berries or collected early damsons, pears, plums and apples, which the squirrels threw down to them from the high branches. Pretty little mousemaids and baby voles tittered and giggled whilst choosing table flowers, some making bright posies which they wore as hats. Frequently a sparrow would thrum past my head, carrying some morsel it had found or caught (though I cannot imagine any creature but a bird eating some of the questionable items a sparrow might find). The Foremole and his crew would arrive shortly to dig a baking pit. Meanwhile, the bustle and life of Redwall carried on below me, framed at the back by our beloved old Mossflower Woods. High, green and serene, with hardly a breeze to stir the mighty fastness of leafy boughs, oak, ash, elm, beech, yew, sycamore, hornbeam, fir and willow, mingled pale, dusty, dark and light green hues, the varied leaf shapes blending to shelter and frame the north and east sides of our walls.

Only two days to the annual festivities. I begin to feel like a giddy young woodlander again! However, being historian and recorder, I cannot in all dignity tuck up the folds of my habit and leap down among the merrymakers. I will finish my writings as quickly as possible then. Who knows, maybe I'll stroll down to join some of the elders in the cellar. I know they will be sampling the October ale and blackcurrant wine set by from other seasons, just to make sure it has kept its taste and temperature correctly, especially the elderberry wine of last autumn's pressing. You understand, of course, that I am doing this merely to help out old friends.

John Churchmouse (Recorder of Redwall Abbey, formerly of Saint Ninian's)

Afternoon sunlight slanted through the gaps in the ruined walls and roof of Saint Ninian's old church, highlighting the desolation of weed and thistle growing around broken, rotted pews. A small cloud of midges dispersed from dizzy circling as Slagar brushed by them. The fox peered through a broken door timber at the winding path of dusty brown which meandered aimlessly southward to meet the woodland fringe on the eastern edge.

Slagar watched silently, his ragged breath sucking in and out at the purple-red diamond-patterned skull mask which covered his entire head. When he spoke, it was a hoarse, rasping sound, as if he had received a terrible throat injury at some time.

"Here they come. Get that side door open, quick!"

A long coloured cart with rainbow-hued covering was pulled into the church by a dozen or so wretched creatures chained to the wagon shaft. A stoat sat on the driver's platform. He slashed at the haulers savagely with a long thin willow withe.

"Gee up, put yer backs into it, me beauties!"

The cart was followed by a rabble of ill-assorted vermin: stoats, ferrets and weasels, garbed the same as their comrades who were already waiting with Slagar.

Afternoon sunlight slanted through the gaps in the ruined walls and roof of Saint Ninian's old church, highlighting the desolation of weed and thistle growing around broken, rotted pews. A small cloud of midges dispersed from dizzy circling as Slagar brushed by them. The fox peered through a broken door timber at the winding path of dusty brown which meandered aimlessly southward to meet the woodland fringe on the eastern edge.

Slagar watched silently, his ragged breath sucking in and out at the purple-red diamond-patterned skull mask which covered his entire head. When he spoke, it was a hoarse, rasping sound, as if he had received a terrible throat injury at some time.

"Here they come. Get that side door open, quick!"

A long coloured cart with rainbow-hued covering was pulled into the church by a dozen or so wretched creatures chained to the wagon shaft. A stoat sat on the driver's platform. He slashed at the haulers savagely with a long thin willow withe.

"Gee up, put yer backs into it, me beauties!"

The cart was followed by a rabble of ill-assorted vermin: stoats, ferrets and weasels,...

Mattimeo. Copyright © by Brian Jacques. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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