Believing her subject “deserves to be remembered as more than a case study,” Losure (The Fairy Ring: Or How Elsie and Frances Fool the World) brings life to the true story of a boy discovered living wild in southern France near the end of the French Revolution. The Wild Boy of Aveyron is captured and escapes several times, eventually ending up at the Institute for Deaf-Mutes in Paris; most of the book’s 18 chapters recount his childhood friendship with and intense tutoring by a doctor there. The narrative, woven around quotations from the writings of those who studied the boy, relies on Losure’s speculative style to fill in gaps, which she does without overreaching. While the pace is unhurried, a fascinating story (along with large margins and wide spacing) makes this a quick read that becomes more intriguing as it unfolds. An author’s note considers the possibility that the boy, later named Victor, may have been autistic and points out how techniques employed to teach him were successfully used with children previously considered unreachable. Final art not seen by PW. Ages 10–up. Author’s agent: George Nicholson, Sterling Lord Literistic. (Mar.)

Losure follows up The Fairy Ring...with another novelistic true story with obvious appeal to young readers...Losure smoothly navigates a story that, due to few records, is incomplete, clearly denoting speculation without ever losing narrative flow.
—Booklist

The well-documented case of a feral child who didn’t speak, ran on all fours, and was captured in post-Revolution France and studied by a succession of Enlightenment-influenced thinkers gets an interesting, well-informed retelling.
—Kirkus Reviews

Losure brings life to the true story of a boy discovered living wild in southern France near the end of the French Revolution...While the pace is unhurried, a fascinating story (along with large margins and wide spacing) makes this a quick read that becomes more intriguing as it unfolds.
—Publishers Weekly

It’s a fascinating look at an unusual historical figure, a stylish yet accessible read.
—Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books

In understated, atmospheric prose, Losure carefully relates the recorded observations of the “men of science” who examined and/or educated the wild boy, finding the evocative details that hinted at his inner life while painting a vivid picture of the misty forests and hilltops the boy would have called home. Smudgy, gestural charcoal drawings accompany the text in this beautifully produced book, depicting the boy’s struggles as his (usually) well-meaning captors attempted to domesticate him. ... Abundant source notes and a strong bibliography make this lyrical, readable book a wonderful nonfiction choice.
—School Library Journal

Losure’s first nonfiction book turns a mysterious scientific case about a feral boy into an enjoyable story about the human spirit. Through well-documented notes from other sources, Losure eloquently creates a fascinating story that reads more like fiction than nonfiction.
—VOYA

The gentle and intimate tone makes Victor’s alienation heartbreaking, as do the simple but eloquent black-and-white sketches, one per each short chapter.
—The Horn Book

[A] touching story that readers will find compelling.
—Library Media Connection

This beautiful little volume for readers ages 9-14 is suffused with tender pathos, deriving not least from Timothy Basil Ering's evocative, softly smudged drawings of the Savage...
—The Wall Street Journal

09/01/2013
Gr 5–8—Found living wild and naked in the mountain of France in 1797, the Savage of Aveyron, or Victor, as he was later called, was treated in turns as a curiosity, a specimen, an imbecile, and a burden. This is his biography (Candlewick, 2013), pieced together using source documents and accounts from previous centuries. Where facts are not available, Losure fills in with known accounts of towns, events, etc., taking pains to delineate what is factual and what is merely probable. Approximately 10-years-old at the time of his capture, the Savage of Aveyron lived the remainder of his life under scrutiny. Doctors and scientists of the time were a far cry from those of today; it's fascinating to compare and contrast the scientific communities. Dismissing his natural habitat completely, the only goals were to acculturate the boy and teach him to speak French. Victor never learned to speak; therefore, the decades-long intrusion into his life was considered a failure by scientific standards of the time. This strange, sad, and true tale speaks volumes about communication and ethnocentrism. The savage, not science, triumphs. Although there is little dialogue, Michael Page uses inflection and purposeful pacing to adeptly bring Victor to life and subtly highlight the author's point of view. The choice of narrator is a bit puzzling, though, because he has a decidedly British accent. Have the print version available so listeners can peruse the maps, source notes, and haunting artwork by Timothy Basil Ering. The audio version will help the audience with the pronunciation of unfamiliar French names and places.—Lisa Taylor, Ocean County Library, NJ

Gr 4–6—Who was the boy found naked in the forest by French villagers in the late 1700s? How had he gotten the scars that lined his body? How old was he? While he appeared to be about 10 years old, he could not tell his own story, because he could not talk. In understated, atmospheric prose, Losure carefully relates the recorded observations of the "men of science" who examined and/or educated the wild boy, finding the evocative details that hinted at his inner life while painting a vivid picture of the misty forests and hilltops the boy would have called home. Smudgy, gestural charcoal drawings accompany the text in this beautifully produced book, depicting the boy's struggles as his (usually) well-meaning captors attempted to domesticate him. Losure is careful not to make any 21st-century conclusions about the boy's condition. While she offers speculation about his early life and how he ended up alone in the woods, she brings up contemporary diagnoses such as Asperger's syndrome only in an author's note. Abundant source notes and a strong bibliography make this lyrical, readable book a wonderful nonfiction choice.—Paula Willey, Baltimore County Public Library, Towson, MD

Michael Page delivers intriguing facts and ironies about science and society in the 1800s with an insightful and evocative performance. Victor, a child found living in the French countryside, is captured and passed around among interested parties like a scientific specimen. Page narrates Victor’s actions and confusion over his plight with sensitivity and a contemplative tone. In contrast, he portrays the scholars and members of high society who consider Victor to be an imbecile with an air of pomposity that highlights their inhumane blindness to his condition and ultimate transformation. Page’s pronunciation of French names, steady pace, and soothing voice, combined with a fascinating story, produce compelling listening for both older children and adults. M.F. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award © AudioFile 2013, Portland, Maine

The well-documented case of a feral child who didn't speak, ran on all fours, and was captured in post-Revolution France and studied by a succession of Enlightenment-influenced thinkers gets an interesting, well-informed retelling, but unlike his inquisitors, the boy never comes into focus. Two who studied him left detailed accounts of their observations: a teacher at a boys' school, Pierre-Joseph Bonnaterre, and later, a doctor at a Paris school for deaf-mute children, Jean-Marc-Gaspard Itard, who undertook his education and gave him his name: Victor. Itard's intelligent, compassionate housekeeper opened her home to him. Though Victor never learned to speak, Itard's mostly humane, child-centered teaching profoundly influenced later educators. Inconsistencies in Losure's take abound. Scenery and buildings merit detailed description, but historical and cultural context is lacking--the French Revolution isn't mentioned. Readers are invited to judge "cold-eyed" scientists, especially Bonnaterre ("to him, the boy was only a specimen") by contemporary standards. Itard's harshest actions (knowing Victor's fear of heights, Itard dangled him out a high window) escape editorializing. Text, syntax and vocabulary envision quite young readers, yet the eight pages of scholarly footnotes and academic bibliography are strictly for adults. Resources for children or teachers aren't provided. Victor is known only through those who observed and studied him. Losure's speculations on what he might have felt have a distancing effect and do not belong in a work of nonfiction. An interesting account, but Victor remains as inscrutable as ever. (author's note) (Nonfiction. 10 & up)