Penguin Island

Penguin Island

Mael, a scion of a royal family of Cambria, was sent in his ninth year to the Abbey of Yvern so that he might there study both sacred and profane learning. At the age of fourteen he renounced his patrimony and took a vow to serve the Lord. His time was divided, according to the rule, between the singing of hymns, the study of grammar, and the meditation of eternal truths. A celestial perfume soon disclosed the virtues of the monk throughout the cloister, and when the blessed Gal, the Abbot of Yvern, departed from this world into the next, young Mael succeeded him in the government of the monastery. He established therein a school, an infirmary, a guest-house, a forge, work-shops of all kinds, and sheds for building ships, and he compelled the monks to till the lands in the neighbourhood. With his own hands he cultivated the garden of the Abbey, he worked in metals, he instructed the novices, and his life was gently gliding along like a stream that reflects the heaven and fertilizes the fields. At the close of the day this servant of God was accustomed to seat himself on the cliff, in the place that is to-day still called St. Mael's chair. At his feet the rocks bristling with green seaweed and tawny wrack seemed like black dragons as they faced the foam of the waves with their monstrous breasts. He watched the sun descending into the ocean like a red Host whose glorious blood gave a purple tone to the clouds and to the summits of the waves. And the holy man saw in this the image of the mystery of the Cross, by which the divine blood has clothed the earth with a royal purple. In the offing a line of dark blue marked the shores of the island of Gad, where St. Bridget, who had been given the veil by St. Malo, ruled over a convent of women. Now Bridget, knowing the merits of the venerable Mael, begged from him some work of his hands as a rich present. Mael cast a hand-bell of bronze for her and, when it was finished, he blessed it and threw it into the sea. And the bell went ringing towards the coast of Gad, where St. Bridget, warned by the sound of the bell upon the waves, received it piously, and carried it in solemn procession with singing of psalms into the chapel of the convent. Thus the holy Mael advanced from virtue to virtue. He had already passed through two-thirds of the way of life, and he hoped peacefully to reach his terrestrial end in the midst of his spiritual brethren, when he knew by a certain sign that the Divine wisdom had decided otherwise, and that the Lord was calling him to less peaceful but not less meritorious labours.
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Reviews

Photo of Ada
Ada @adaa799
4 stars
Jan 3, 2022

Anatole France manages to pull off what, in my personal view, George Orwell failed to prove with ‘Animal Farm’. The book was extremely realistic and humorous at the same time, and somehow, the author made it work. It was a very captivating read especially since all the natural phases of the human society were depicted, all leading to the painfully accurate confusion that it is the societal ways that turn us into the despicably flawed humans we sometimes are. In other words - Eve bit into an apple and now we all live in territorially limited entities with their own attributed currency, acting like utter fools. I would also like to point out I am completely oblivious to politics yet the depictions from the book made sense to me and stirred my interest further. Anatole France presents realism at its finest here - only reason this is 4 and not 5 stars is that I wish it were a bit more fast paced, I think it would have added a nice zing to the story. Overall I recommend it if you want to dive into a social satire!

Photo of Joe Bauldoff
Joe Bauldoff@bauldoff
3 stars
May 22, 2024
Photo of Joshua Line
Joshua Line@fictionjunky
4 stars
Sep 30, 2021