There's an Albert Einstein quote that [all right, rather embarrassingly] I think of almost daily:

"If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales."

Of course I love that the great physicist Einstein prioritized language and literature. But what strikes me repeatedly is that he understood that intelligence about LIFE is more important than an ability to solve an equation follow a set of rules. While modern research backs up the idea that reading and being read to improves children's academic abilities across the board, I don't think that was what Einstein was talking about. He realized, I think, that there was a danger in becoming so "educated" in career-focused skills that we would forget how to be human. Being human, and being the best humans we can be, is something that has been taught through fairy tales since stories were first uttered, I imagine. (Even Jesus taught through parables!)

When I began reading ​Mio, My Son, by Astrid Lindgren, all I knew about it was that one of my favorite authors had written it, and one of my best-book-loving-friends (it's a whole category, you all know that) loved it. In fact, after my friend Liz wrote about it for Plough magazine back in 2021, the book's popularity took off so quickly that I literally could not find a copy anywhere. Liz came to my rescue and sent me a copy for Christmas, so I'm finally just getting on the Mio bandwagon. Start searching book sales and eBay, friends, because you're going to want to join me.

Briefly, Mio is an unloved orphan boy who finds himself carried away to Farawayland, where he discovers he is in fact the beloved son of the great King. He walks in the garden with his father, rides through the fields with his magnificent horse, plays in the forest with his best friend. His life is everything he only ever dreamed of—until he becomes aware of an evil that has sidled its way into Farawayland, stealing children and turning their hearts to stone. He realizes he is the one destined to fight this evil, but he doesn't know how one little boy could conquer so strong an enemy.

In many ways, Mio is vastly unlike the Astrid Lindgren books I've read thus far. Even with its madcap and unrealistic adventures, Pippi Longstocking and Ronia, the Robber's Daughter are very concretely set in the real world. More so with The Children of Noisy Village. My recent favorite, Seacrow Island, reads much like much-loved vintage stories of realistic children by Noel Streatfeild or even Beverly Cleary. Mio, on the the other hand, takes all of one chapter to let you know that you have been whisked away to fairyland just like Mio was. In that sense, it immediately brings to mind the works of Tolkien and Lewis and MacDonald (especially MacDonald in tone, and especially Tolkien in theme). With a genie in a bottle and a magic sword and children whisked away by an evil knight, it's as fairy tale as fairy tales get.

And yet. The Astrid-Lindgren-ness of Astrid Lindgren can't help itself. Because where ​Mio shines is its portrayal of a very real, very human child. Mio, in his normal longing for a father and for a friend and for a pet, is every bit as concretely (and sometimes hilariously) human as Pippi or Tommy and Annika.

Like every great fairy tale (and, again, this is what I think Einstein was talking about), Mio asks important—human—questions: How do we handle the loss of ones we love? How can we do the hard things that have to be done? Is there someone who could ever love us unconditionally? It answers these questions, not directly, but by inference, and perhaps that's what makes them stick all the better. The most striking feeling I came away with after closing the cover was this: "I am loved. And that love will give me the strength to do any hard thing that needs to be done."

I highly recommend Liz's article for a more thoughtfully intellectual take on this story; I'm not sure if it was a mistake or a wise move, but I read her article right before sitting down to write this, and I found that she had already articulated 90% of my thoughts so perfectly that it was futile to reiterate them!

Have you read Mio ​already? I'd love to know your thoughts!
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For more Marvelous Middle Grade Monday recommendations, check out Always in the Middle!