Mimus

Mockingbirds belong to the species mimus—and the title character of Lilli Thal's tale of Medieval intrigue lives up to his namesake with irritating diligence. As the novel progresses, however, it's not always clear who the title character is, or what or whom he mocks beneath his absurd cap of bells and donkey ears. Thal's first novel (written in German and elegantly translated by John Brownjohn) is literally unlike any book of its kind, blending elements of historical fiction, fantasy and bildungsroman (coming-of-age tale) with surprising finesse.

Prince Florin is summoned to Vinland to celebrate the victory of his father King Philip of Moltovia over his enemies. What the 12-year-old royal finds, however, is not his father's flag flying but his father in chains, the bait in King Theodo's evil program of revenge and humiliation. Before he realizes it, Florin is the apprenticed fool of Mimus, King Theodo's court jester, a bizarre and enigmatic character that oscillates between high wit and the lowest forms of humor. Mistreated, starved, humiliated, Florin isn't a typical hero—it's survival, humility and cunning he must learn, rather than the strength and swagger that are his rights by birth.

Mimus is set in two imaginary Medieval kingdoms, but Thal infuses them with extreme period realism. Rather than focusing on the pomp and splendor commonly associated with the Middle Ages, she takes a gritty approach and details the universal discomfort, the terrors and horrors of primitive war, the deprivations even of royalty, and the crassness of all but the most noble. Her characters are (realistically) Catholic Christians, and much of what Florin experiences he analyzes accordingly. This isn't fantasy—though locations are make-believe, the settings and action are hyper-realistic without being excessively crude or outrageous, a refreshing approach for a young adult novel.

Perhaps the strangest element in the novel concerns Florin's identity. Not only is he royalty living as a slave, as the story progresses it becomes increasingly apparent that he isn't simply apprenticed to Mimus—he is being groomed to become Mimus, to one day assume the identity of the jester and lose all vestiges of the Florin that was. As the young prince struggles to retain his former self he sees aspects of his past character disappear within his new existence, within the new Mimus. And like Florin, the reader is never sure whether Mimus is to be trusted or not, even when it becomes clear his treatment of Florin was calculated to help the boy survive.

Filled with wit, humor and adventure, Mimus is nevertheless a serious exploration of the nature of honor and the reality of identity. Ostensibly written for kids ages 12-15, the appeal of the novel reaches to adult readers with its stylistic integrity, philosophical themes, and brilliant evocation of the austerity and mayhem of Medieval Europe. While the end of the novel is possibly a bit contrived, overall this is a masterful achievement of which any author, let alone a first-time novelist, might be proud.