Lavengro

In the Gypsy language, Lavengro means Master of Words. It was the pet name bestowed on George Borrow by his Gypsy friends for being such an outstanding linguist. Even so, this remarkable book is not about a teacher, but about a pupil. It describes the coming of age of an authentic genius, George Borrow himself, who by the end of his life mastered 60 languages, the mythology of a dozen nations and the literature of two thousand years. “Lavengro”, George Borrow himself maintained, “is a dream”. And so it is. Step by step it guides us through the enchanted landscapes of his childhood in the early 19th century. As a boy he wanders to every corner of the British Isles in the wake of his father’s regiment and roams freely over the windswept heath with his Gypsy friend Jasper Petulengro. We see him fail as an apprentice lawyer for being too restless and too kind-hearted. We see his stunning success as a budding linguist when taken in hand by the brilliant William Taylor. He goes to London to seek his fortune as a poet, but falls into the claws of an unscrupulous publisher, who squeezes him dry for every drop of talent. At last he escapes, and joins the road people, travelling with a cart and pony through the pristine land, living in the wilderness with Gypsies, pugilists, tinkers and postillions, horse thieves and horse dealers, and with one formidable young woman who can knock down a bull with one blow of her fist. cBy the time he reached manhood, George Borrow had become a dazzling Master of Words, not only as a linguist, but also as a writer. Lavengro itself proves the point. Woven from the strands of memory on a flawless loom of art, embroidered with the silken yarns of poetry, it possesses all the grace and beauty of a masterpiece. His descriptions of people and scenery are often unparalleled. The strength of the dialogues and the elegance of the thoughts expressed have few equals in the literature of the Victorian Age. It is, in fact, more than a dream. It is a revelation.