I liked 2/3 of this book a lot! It really holds up well for being published about fifty years ago, and the questions it raises about ethics and human progress and how we show love are all really carefully explored. Even as an older reader coming to it for the first time, I found myself invested in Elana and Jarel and the ways in which they each had to grapple with what they were doing....and if you note I'm missing one of the three POV characters, it's because Georyn was really the only place where I felt like this book was lacking. I had such a clear and nuanced picture of the other two protagonists, and Georyn was two-dimensional both by comparison and taken alone. He was very heroic, of course, but that appeared to be his defining character trait, and there was very little sense of any individual flaw aside from his naivety as a member of the least technologically advanced culture. This book is still a very enjoyable read, however - and one I would recommend to any young reader!

A good, old-school YA science fiction book. This is the kind of thing that I wish I'd read when I was 12, because I would have LOVED it and probably read it over and over again. Without the nostalgia element now, I don't love it, but do recognize the quality of the story. It's a Newbury Honor Book, but definitely one that seems to have fallen through the cracks.

This book is about a woodcutter's son who, along with his brothers, decides that they're going to seek the king's favor by slaying a dragon that's been ravishing the countryside. Along the way they receive help from a magician called the Starwatcher, who sets three tasks for them to complete before he will give them what they need to defeat the dragon. This brings them to seek out the aid of a mysterious Lady, an Enchantress, who lives in a hut in the forest. She bestows magic items upon them so that they may complete the magician's tasks....

......Except that the dragon is really a forestry machine brought there from another planet by a colonizing empire. This Empire seeks out planets to take over, and this world (Andrecia) is one of them. They know that they're much more technologically advanced than the primitive native population, so setting up the planet as a colony and herding all of the native humans into a reservation shouldn't be too hard....

....Except that the Starwatcher and the Enchantress are actually ALSO from another planet, only their civilization is even MORE advanced than the Empire. They're so advanced that they have a peaceful society, and also have the ability to use telekinesis and telepathy. They're tasked with preventing civilizations like the Empire from meddling in the affairs of more primitive planets, while also preventing the Empire from knowing that there are much more advanced planets out there. If either the Andrecians or the Empire knew about the more advanced civilizations, it would potentially stunt their own societal development, so utmost secrecy is required. The Enchantress is really a girl named Elana, who stowed away on her father's ship when he came to Andrecia with two other crewmates with the plan to subtly discourage the Empire from taking over this world. There are some complications, so now Elana needs to play a role in their plans....which is to basically teach ESP skills (ie, magical spells) to a few of the natives so that when the conquering Empire sees the Andrecians levitating objects (with magic!), they'll hopefully freak out at this affront to their strictly-science-based understanding and leave the planet.

This book is told in three POVs: Georyn, the youngest woodcutter's son, Jael, an apprentice medical officer with the Empire, and Elana, the aforementioned mission stowaway. What the author did really well was change the way the three POVs are told. Georyn's reads like a fairy tale, because as far as he knows there is legitimately a dragon, an Enchantress, magical objects, etc. His part of the story is essentially a fantasy story (hence my fantasy tag for this one), and the writing has that old-school fantasy feel...almost Tolkien-ish? Meanwhile, Jael and Elana's have a more updated feel to the writing (although this book is from the 1970s, so it's not THAT modern), since they're both from "future" times. The switching back and forth between the styles is what makes this book for me.

Elana is a bit of an impulsive idiot at times, but she's also young and untrained. Her father spends quite a lot of time explaining things to her (and thus to the reader), but I guess that makes sense since he's basically field training her in the moment. She's apparently in a relationship with the third member of their party (Evrek), but it seems more like a platonic "I guess we'll get married someday since it's the most convenient thing" kind of relationship than a romance. He's barely involved in the story, so this component did feel a bit out of place.

The whole concept of this book is really interesting. Imagining how a medieval-ish superstitious culture would perceive technology that's more like our own culture (in a few years perhaps), and how a purely science-based culture might perceive a culture that's so far ahead it's come around again to embracing supernatural abilities....

If I were to compare this to another book, I'd say it reminds me most of "The Darkangel" trilogy, by Meredith Ann Pierce (though this book was written first). Both are books that initially seem like they're fantasy novels, but then as the layers get peeled back for the reader, it becomes clear that it's a science-fiction story. To the character within the book, everything happening is because of magical reasons, but in truth what we're dealing with is interplanetary travel.

As I said, this book was written in the 1970s, so some aspects definitely have a dated feel. I don't know if today's teens will appreciate this kind of book or not. The old-school writing style (and the OLD old-school writing style of Georyn's POV) might turn off teens who are used to action-packed and romance-heavy fantasy trilogies. This is definitely a book that spends a lot of time with character development, and (in the vein of mid-century sci-fi) a lot of time discussing ethical and philosophical matters.

This was my first time re-reading this book, having only read it once 10+ years ago. I own a copy, and decided it was time to re-read and decide if I want to keep it. After reading it now, I honestly wavered back and forth on whether to keep it. There are copies available at other libraries (my own copy is the one retired from my library), so it's not like it will be unavailable to me if I pass along this copy. I want my personal library to be books that I plan to read over and over, and I'm not sure yet if that will be the case with this one. If I'd read it around the time I first read the Darkangel trilogy, I would probably love it the same way since the styles are so similar. I think that even though I didn't *love* this one, I still really admire what the author has created here.....Hm. I guess I'll hold onto my copy for now and think about it.

Read as a youth, and remembered as a short story until I ran into Cheryl's review (thanks again!) Picked it up from the library and took out the book for a second spin.

The overarching structure is quite clever: the tripartite narrative of a medieval native of a planet, an advanced alien invader, and another, far more advanced alien -- the titular Enchantress -- who is trying to get the second group of aliens to give up their attempt to settle the planet while not letting either group know who she really is.

Unfortunately, the creativity of the structure wasn't matched by the creativity of the content. This was serviceable at best, and also full of a whole bunch of tropes with which, as a child, I was perfectly fine, but now find annoying: everybody chock full of psychic powers that just need a special push to come out, wuv, Trek-y Prime Directives, etc.

Interesting to read after such a long delay. Past Me and Present Me got to have a great chat about each others' literary tastes. There's a sequel - also read when I was young - but I think I will leave it be.

What I won't leave be is Engdahl 's website. It's remarkably content-rich; she's very active for an author in her mid-eighties.

This is a young adult (YA) science fiction novel by American writer Sylvia Engdahl. The story is about a Elana, a young woman from a peaceful space-going civilization that monitors developing planets to ensure that other technologically advanced peoples do not interfere with their progress. She stows away on a ship to accompany her father and Evrek, her betrothed, who are on a mission to Andrecia, a planet in the medieval stage invaded by an expanding alien imperial force. She pretends to be an enchantress in order to train a woodcutter and his brother in psychokinesis so they can convince the Imperial Exploration Corps to leave peacefully.

The basic plot has promise, but told from three points of view – Elana the heroine, Georyn the woodcutter, and Jarel the Imperial Medical Officer, it gives far too much detail about everything, killing off any suspense and turning action sequences into slow motion. Elana’s relationship with her father is not realistic – she stows away on a dangerous mission and apart from some weak argument, there’s almost no conflict between them. Immediately he gives her mission-critical tasks, although she’s had no training and is not authorised to participate. And when Elana falls in love with Georyn, you’d think that Evrek would show at least a little jealousy, but he doesn’t seem particularly bothered. For a science-fiction novel, the vague descriptions of technology are not convincing, and its lessons in morality feel a little too preachy rather than an integrated part of the narrative.

Originally published in 1970, this book was runner-up for the Newbery Award the following year. I read it because I was in the mood for some sci-fi. It was written in simple, uncomplicated language and I got through it quickly. I’m clearly not the target audience but I felt the book did not live up to its potential. Exact score 2.5.

I don't really like sci-fi, but this was pretty good.

While reading, it occurred to me that the Younglings are like what we used to be back in the middle ages.
The Imperials are like what we are now - advanced, but not incredibly. Just enough to amaze people in the middle ages if they could see what we have.
And the Service people (Elana's kind) are like what we might be in the future.

Overall, pretty interesting.

I really enjoyed this older YA SF, and will again when it comes up in the Newbery club in the Children's Books group. Sure, there was an awful lot of discussion and not a whole heck of a lot of action, but that's fine by me because I do read SF for the 'what if' exploration of ideas.

Definitely a good fit, as it happens, for fans of Star Trek, with its exploration of a 'prime directive' and for fans of Star Wars, with a mysterious 'force' (in this case, telepathy and psychokinesis). But more than that. Also, it's appropriate that Lois Lowry, author of The Giver, would write the intro. to the reprint - Engdahl's perspective & voice have much in common with Lowry's.... and fans of her Newbery winning SF would probably like this, too.

Should generate a good discussion in the club... would probably lead to even richer conversations in a teen reading group.

Only a couple of quotes, because most of the book isn't pithy. This first can be read as defense of faith, or of belief in magic, or even as encouragement to do science... what context will you enjoy?

"Why, if nobody believed anything except what they understood, how limited we'd be!"

And consider, do you agree with Georyn?

"For it is better to know of what exists than not to know. I would rather be helpless than blind...."

Discussion is this month so I have reread it. I think I appreciated it more, but enjoyed it a tiny bit less, this time. No matter; I still recommend it. And the sequel, too!

Why I even bothered to finish this, I don't know. I guess I kept hoping it would get better, but it didn't. It is written in three different points of view: Elana's, Georyn's, and Jarel's. Elana's parts are in first person, and the other two are in third person. It seemed like anytime something would happen, it would be described three times, from each point of view, and I don't think that was necessary. Repetition discourages readers, and overall I thought it slowed everything down.

Now the characters. Elana can't get it into her head that not everything is her fault. Personally, I thought she was very annoying, and after a while you get tired of reading what's going on in her mind. Georyn was supposed to be the "love interest", but really, you don't get to know him well enough to care whether or not he ends up with Elana. (Really, more dialog between them would've helped with that. There was hardly any, or at least not as much as I should like.) He thinks Elana is virtually faultless and holds her in such awe because she is the "Enchantress", and she is depicted in that way in Georyn's POV parts. Nobody is going to want to care about a person who is like that, let's just be real. Yes, towards the end, he realizes that she's not exactly everything he once believed, but it hardly matters by that point. He trusted her blindly throughout the whole thing, and sorry, but I have little tolerance for that, especially since he was supposed to be the wisest of his brothers. I won't bother talking about Jarel; he had the fewest parts in his own POV, and I was indifferent to him.

But I don't want this review to discourage anyone from reading it and finding out for yourself if you like it or not, because many people seem to enjoy it, and that's great. It brings up some very good points, but I thought they could've been expressed more powerfully by deeper characters and a better POV system.

It felt like a dragged on fairy tail with a lot of sci fi in it.

I loved this book! It is much more character driven than plot driven, focusing on three people: Elana, Georwyn, and Jarel; their thoughts, their actions, and their interactions with each other. Elana is from the Federation, the most advanced people in the universe, for whom telepathy and telekinesis is as natural as eating. Jarel is from the Empire, a civilization that is spacefaring and seeking to colonize new planets. Their belief is that science and nature is all there is; they do not believe in the supernatural. Georwyn is a native of the planet, Andrecia, that the Empire has arrived upon to colonize. Their people have approximately the technology of the medieval period of Earth. The thrust of the novel is that Elana, her father, and her fiancé need to try to help one of the natives to develop some telekinetic power, and so frighten the Empire's colonizers into leaving the planet. But Elana, et al, are under strict oath not to reveal who they really are. The plot moves along slowly, but surely, as Elana, et al train Georwyn to fight the "dragon" (actually a mechanical machine that clear cuts land). Not everything goes completely according to plan in this well-thought out, engrossing novel.

In this YA fantasy, humanoids in different stages of cultural/technological development are found throughout the cosmos. Culturally mature peoples belong to a Federation, which oversees the development and continued existence of “Youngling” races. Federation ships easily visit far-flung planets, and these civilizations have solved the social problems that drive less advances peoples to poverty and crime. Federation peoples also have developed the latent psi powers possessed by all humanoids: they communicate by both speech and telepathy, and they move objects through psychokinesis.

A delegation of elite agents from the Federation Anthropological Service has just arrived at Andrecia, a planet whose inhabitants live in a pre-technological, feudal society. The Imperials, a technologically advanced Youngling race, have also recently landed and are clearing land for a base. The Imperials aggressively colonize other planets, inhabited and uninhabited. Though they have space flight, they have developed neither psi powers nor an enlightened (altruistic) social order. The Imperials plan to exploit Andrecia’s natural resources, confining native Andrecians, whom they consider sub-human, in reservations.

The Federation anthropologists are bound by what Star Trek calls the Prime Directive: they pledge not to reveal their extra-planetary origins nor interfere with a primitive world’s social or technological development. Acting indirectly, the anthropologists plan to convince the Imperials that the Andrecians have dangerous, hitherto unrecognized psychic powers. Since the Andrecians believe in magic, the anthropologists plan to develop the psychokinetic powers of one Andrecian. If they observe an Andrecian moving objects with his mind, the anthropologists hope, the Imperialists will decide that the natives are too powerful to subdue.

The ENCHANTRESS of the title is Elana, an impulsive adolescent who stowed away on the anthropologists’ ship. Though she has not completed her anthropological training, she passionately wants to visit a “Youngling” planet and to accompany her fiancé, Evreck, who is part of the delegation. Unlike Elana, Evreck has already finished his training. As leader of the mission, Elana’s father stage-manages a kind of morality play, designed to empower the Andrecians and frighten away the Imperials. When Kevan, a trigger-happy Imperial, vaporizes Ilura, the Federation anthropologist trained to impersonate an Andrecian, Elana’s father creates a new scenario, starring his daughter. Posing as an “Enchantress,” Elana’s will teach representatives from the Andrecians to develop psi powers under the pretense of initiating them into magic rituals. Elana’s pupils are two stalwart Andrecian brothers, Georyn and Terwyn. The Andrecian king has deputized the young men to slay the dragon laying waste the forest—the Inperials’ “rockchewer.” The Enchantress and her father (as the magician, Starwatcher) teach the brothers that a river stone is a magic talisman that can manipulate objects. Poignantly, Georyn and Elana fall in love, though both know that they cannot act on their feelings. When he believes it threatens the woman he loves, Georyn defeats the dragon/rockchewer .

For me, the greatest charm of the book lies in the fairy tale voice used to convey Georyn’s interpretation of events. Here Georyn is introduced: “At the edge of the Enchanted Forest there lived a poor woodcutter who had four sons, the youngest of whom was named Georyn. They were able to earn a meager living by selling wood to the folk of the village, and although there was seldom more than dry bread or thin gruel on their table, they were not miserable” (5). Deliciously, Engdahl uses this voice to describe Georyn’s encounters with the Imperials’ unimaginable technologies. The climax, in which Georyn confronts and immobilizes the dragon/rockchewer, is a delight!

When other characters report Elana’s words and actions, I admired her courage and idealism. I have to confess, however, that Elana’s voice is annoying. Here is the beginning of three paragraphs in which Elana dithers about her growing attraction to Georyn: “What is it, I wonder, that makes two people suddenly become important to each other? So important that everything else around them just fades away? People have been wondering that since the beginning of time, I guess. . . “ (125). Though Elana is a resourceful enchantress, her teen-age angst is wearisome!

While I wish that she had squeezed the water out of Elana’s musings, I am excited to have discovered Engdahl as a writer. The friend who loaned me ENCHANTRESS FROM THE STARS has promised me a second Engdahl book: THE FAR SIDE OF EVIL. I look forward to reading it!

I actually have two editions of this. This book is one I like to reread. I like the language, and the raising of issues about who qualifies as 'human' (for example).

But I often don't agree with the arguments. I don't accept that loyalty and adherence to 'irrevocable' commitments are good behavior. It's taken me a lot of wrestling with my conscience to get to this point. This book made me reconsider--and I came to the same conclusion, after seriously considering the arguments.

Loyalty, by definition, is not sticking with ideas and people when you agree with them. If you agree with them, you don't NEED loyalty, since your own conscience and reason support you. It's when you DISagree with them that you need loyalty--and you can't afford it then. You can't give away your need to make independent decisions EVERY TIME. It's not acceptable to use the excuse of 'it's an emergency, and we have no other choice but between two evils--so we have to decide which is lesser'. No oath can absolve you of the responsibility to think things through, and not to do terrible things. Even if I could accept that the oath is just binding you to do what you'd decide to if you thought things through (and I can't), I can't accept the notion that you can make decisions ahead of time, or that you EVER have the right not to think things through. It's like the notion that, in the field, you can't take time for mourning. You MUST make time for mourning. Eating and sleeping can be sacrificed more easily than dealing with your emotional needs while on assignment. If you don't take the time to mourn, the questions raised by a loss don't get properly dealt with--and you'll make bad decisions about later matters.

I don't agree that ANY suffering is 'necessary'. If people only advance through suffering, then progress is, in fact, an immoral thing. I don't WANT to believe that present suffering is the price of future benefits. I'd MUCH rather believe that suffering is pointless, and that all sacrifices are in vain--so that I'll feel free to help people in need. I recall Miep Gies commenting that the only way to decide to help people instead of abandoning them (or worse yet, helping hurt them) was never to believe that anyone deserves what happens to them.

I don't agree that the Andrecians have no 'technology'. If the 'more advanced' societies don't regard the technical solutions the Andrecians have as technology, then they have a mistaken definition of technology. The Andrecians may not have such things as gunpowder (or they may, and it's not widespread). They certainly don't have spaceships. But they DO have technology, though we don't see much of it. We do see the products of it, however. They have looms (of some sort) because they wear cloth. They have wine-making technology. They have metalworking technology. They have woodcarving technology. They can almost certainly make charcoal. To define these things as not 'technology', because they don't involve 'science' in the way it's been (re)defined since the Enlightenment is perhaps not surprising for the Imperials--but the more 'advanced' Federation members should have escaped that pitfall at some point. Qualifying the term 'technology' with the adjective 'mechanized' doesn't really resolve anything. There were mechanized technologies in many ancient civilizations. It's not an accident that the early 'factories' were described as 'mills'. A mill is a mechanism, by definition. Adding an engine (steam or otherwise) to the works doesn't substantially change how it works.

Furthermore, there's a tendency to argue that feudal systems are previous to 'civilized' ones, in a dependable and progressive history. It was not so in Europe on Earth, and it may not have been so anywhere on Earth. One of the exercises we had in archaeology class was to put artifacts in chronological order. We all made the same mistake. One society was considerably less 'advanced' that another (Mississippian and Hopewell, for those who are keeping score). On any standard of life (wide-ranging trade, health, food security...you name it), the agricultural Mississippians were worse off than the hunting and gathering Hopewell--who preceded them chronologically.

In Europe, feudal societies developed in areas where the preceding CIVILIZED societies had collapsed. Many later spread to other areas which had been inhabited by 'barbarians'--but many of the 'barbarian' societies had actually been incorporated into the empires that collapsed. Note, for example, that in most versions of Arthurian lore, the people of Camelot are trying to REestablish (or conserve the remains of) ROMAN Britain. They aren't harking back to pre-Roman times, but to a period when most places south of what's now the Danelaw were part of a client state of the Roman Empire.

Whether a feudal state COULD be developed in the absence of the 'villas' for the villages to cluster around is not clear. It may be that the prior civilization is an essential prerequisite. At least one of my anthropology teachers argued that a main reason for the collapse of the Roman empire was actually a progressive technological development. A new type of plow was developed that made it possible to plow areas that were previously not cultivable. The local people thus became less dependent on the redistribution systems of the empire--and so were able to send the tax collectors away without starving the next bad year.

Of course, the Roman Empire was quite long-lasting. Though it ebbed and flowed for centuries, it's unlikely that there was any one reason for its final collapse. So to test whether feudal societies would develop 'naturally' in the absence of the ruins of empire, it would be necessary to examine agricultural societies that never DID develop any sort of feudal society, and never had been incorporated in empires.

The Domesday book demonstrates some of the processes by which a society that had been only semi-feudal (if that much so) developed into fully feudal societies, with few to no pockets of freeholders who could 'go where they would'. But, for example, Pueblo societies (which, after 'Anasazi' times, were mostly NOT agricultural, but rather horticultural) stubbornly resisted this sort of hierarchical structure--to such a degree that when the Conquistadores tried to impose it, the nonviolent Pueblos rose in revolt against them.

You can argue that the Pueblos were an isolated case, and not typical of responses to feudalization. Perhaps. But too many people forget that the old expression that 'the exception proves the rule' uses an old sense of the word 'prove', which is the EXACT SAME word as the word 'probe'. The exception TESTS the rule, and often the rule fails the test.

The Andrecian 'natives' in this book are not immature in any sense. The idea that societies go through stages similar to the development of human children is a fallacious one. It's also dangerous, because it leads to the notion that people who don't have 'technology' in the narrow sense that's used aren't fully human.

It's a pity, really. The book is a good one, and the issues that are raised in it are important. A little more thought would make it a truly great book. But in its present state, the resolution doesn't live up to the youthful promise. It's not just that people's lives are ruined, and they don't get the rewards they have a 'right' to hope for. It's also that NO reward would repay the mischief that's inflicted--or ANY imposed or 'natural' suffering. And is suffering to 'deserve' happiness REALLY a model we want to encourage?

Federation societies are essentially undescribed in this book. The Academy is explicitly distinguished from the ordinary societies--but it's not very thoroughly described, either. In a sense, there's mostly definition by exclusion. There's a lot more description of what the Federation is NOT than about what it IS.

The Federation in James White's books is much more realistic. Very different peoples live and work together in a somewhat fractious Pax Galactica. But they don't pretend to be 'superior' to planet-bound cultures. And they're very far from having solved all their problems. They've tried to balance protection from dangers with maximal freedom--but they often fail--sometimes in silly ways. Why should you have to order a century's supply of nutmeg to avoid questions, for example? Still, their attempts are more concrete (and steel, and composites) and more individualistic than the nebulous 'Federation' sketched in this book.

This is one of those books that's perfectly fine but that hit my buttons all wrong. As far as I can tell, this is one of the earlier actual YA books in fantasy (as opposed to fantasy that was written for YA but that wasn't really labeled for it). It was published in 1970. It reads as surprisingly modern--a strong voice in first person, a love triangle, concerns about racism and cultural erasure.

But...I hate love triangles, and I did NOT buy the ending.



It also reads like an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation where Wesley goes planetside against orders, is forced to clean up his mess and does so mostly by luck, then gets unequivocally praised by Picard when he gets back. Whaaaa???!!!!??? And that's not even covering the craptastic way the main character treats the Love of Her Life--falling in love with someone else, emotionally ditching him even though he's telepathically aware of what's going on, and then assuming he'll fall in line after she's forced to ditch guy #2. Just...no. My heart is too simple for this, and the ending made me dislike the main character. Blah.



On the other hand, other people are going to be just fine with it. Well written and a highly imaginative idea.