Brian Jacques
Brian Jacques was a British children's writer and radio personality, born in Liverpool on 15 June 1939.
He lived and worked as a United Kingdom citizen, writing in English across both novel-length fiction and shorter collected work. His career encompassed two distinct modes of public expression: writing for younger readers and work as a radio personality, pursuits that ran alongside one another during his lifetime. He died in Liverpool on 5 February 2011, the city of his birth remaining also the city of his death.
Jacques became known for two series of children's fantasy novels. The Redwall series formed one significant strand of his output, while the Castaways of the Flying Dutchman series constituted a separate body of work aimed at younger readers. Beyond these novel series, he produced shorter fiction gathered into collections: Seven Strange and Ghostly Tales brought together brief narratives, and The Ribbajack & Other Curious Yarns represented a further collection of short pieces. These collections placed him within the tradition of shorter-form storytelling alongside his longer work in children's fantasy.
The recurring markers of Jacques's fiction are children's fantasy and the shorter tale, genres to which he returned across the span of his writing life. His two novel series and two short fiction collections together trace a sustained engagement with storytelling for young audiences, conducted in English and rooted in the Liverpool he inhabited from birth until his death in February 2011.
Quotes by Brian Jacques
Brian Jacques's insights on:
They ploughed deeper into the vast woodland tracts, to areas where the tree canopy was so dense that only a soft, green light prevailed. It was mossy underpaw, and silent, the monolith trunks of giant trees reared upward, like columns of black stone.
Always use the sword to stand for good and right, never do a thing you would be ashamed of, but never let your heart rule your mind.
Have you been travelling, my young friend? Come in out of the darkness and rain. Sit by the fire, eat, drink and rest yourself. Life is one long journey from beginning to end, you know. We all walk different roads, both with our bodies and our minds. Some of us lose heart and fall by the wayside, whilst others go on to realise their dreams and desires.
I’d burn the salad, suh. Us of the fatal beauty type are pretty awful cooks if y’ ask me. – Dorothea Duckfontein Dillworthy “Dotti.
Go find someone who will care for ye good, to sit quiet by yore side at the fire, an’ if he treats ye decent as you hoped he would, you’ll have all that your heart can desire.
Three figures crossed the Abbey gardens as the moon broke from behind a drifting cloudbank. The nearby pond was bathed in a silver sheen, parts of the sandstone wall reflecting back a wavery bluish light.
Early morning was enveloped in white mist. It clung to tree and bush like a gossamer shawl, sparkling with dewdrops in the promise of a hot sunny day ahead.