This updated edition of George MacDonald's 1879 classic is updated and introduced by Michael Phillips, with a forward by Kevin Swanson.

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One of the true high marks in George MacDonald's literary career was reached with the publication in 1879 of Sir Gibbie, the captivating story of a mute orphan with an angel's heart set in the highlands of Scotland. Every MacDonald reader has his or her favorite, but it is safe to say that Sir Gibbie is near the top of the list for lovers of fairy tale, poetry, and novels alike. The character of “wee Sir Gibbie” mysteriously embodies hints from the land of “faerie,” and his soul is poetry personified. MacDonald's storytelling genius here rises to heights as soaring as the mountain of Glashgar where Gibbie roams barefoot with the sheep, amid earthquake and flood.

It was this book that captured author Elizabeth Yates’ imagination and prompted her 1963 edition of Sir Gibbie, which in turn led to Michael Phillips’s lifetime work bringing MacDonald’s spiritual and literary significance back into prominence for new generations of readers.

Always at the top of recommended lists, if one could choose but one MacDonald novel to read, many would say it should be Sir Gibbie.

The text of this edition, produced in a beautiful hardcover by Generations (www.generations.org) is virtually the same as that included in the Cullen Collection. For this edition some of the more intense language has been softened, especially relating to the violent actions and language used by the malevolent characters in the story.

418 pages, Hardcover

Synopsis

Historic Release Highlights

Historic Covers

Editing Notes

Michael Phillips is the undisputed authority in the important and somewhat controversial field of George MacDonald editing. We want to provide a few notes on the topic here in Sir Gibbie, the most often edited of all MacDonald's novels.

First, here is a statistical comparison of several edited versions of MacDonald over the years:

Next, a list of the typical reasons for editing any older work are listed, indicated the known, or assumed, goals of each of these works:

Next, we present to you one of the famous dialog passages to show how each of these approaches plays out.

Original

    "Haith, cratur!"  he said, "ye're mair o' a man nor ye'll luik this saven year!  What garred ye rin upo' the deevil's verra horns that gait?"
    Gibbie stood smiling.
    "Gien't hadna been for my club we wad baith be owre the mune 'gain this time.  What ca' they ye, man?"
    Still Gibbie only smiled.
    "Whaur come ye frae?—Wha's yer fowk?—Whaur div ye bide?—Haena ye a tongue i' yer heid, ye rascal?"

1963 Edition by Elizabeth Yates

Note the complete translation of dialog into English, and the clarification of a few words and phrases ("more of a man than you look" instead of "more of a man than you'll look in seven years", and "run down" instead of "run upon").

    "Ho, creature!" he said, "you're more of a man than you look! What made you run down the devil's very horns that way?"
    Gibbie stood smiling.
    "If it hadn't been for my club we would both have been over the moon. What's your name, man?"
    Sitll Gibbie only smiled.
    "Where do you come from? Who's your folk? Where do you live? Haven't you a tongue in your head, you rascal?"

1988 Edition by Michael Phillips (Bethany)

Note the similarity with the previous translation, and the further clarifying of some of the dialog ("stick" instead of "club" which is what we would call what a shepherd would likely have today, and "knocked over the moon" instead of "been over the moon" which has a very different meaning today.)

    "Haith, creature!" he exclaimed. "You're more of a man than you look! What made you run into the devil's very horns that way?"
    Gibbie stood smiling.
    "If it hadn't been for my stick, we'd both been knocked over the moon by this time. What's your name, man?"
    Still Gibbie only smiled.
    "Where do you come from? Where's your folk? Where do you live?-Haven't you a tongue in your head, you rascal?"

2018 Edition by David Jack

Note the very literal translation, completely removing the Scottish flavor, while retaining the older phrasing and idioms. (This edition is actually not an "edited" version, but rather maintains the original side-by-side with the English translation.)

    "Faith, creature!" he said, "you're more of a man than you'll look for seven years! What made you run upon the devil's very horns like that?"
    Gibbie stood smiling.
    "If it hadn't been for my club we would both be over the moon by now. What do they call you, man?"
    Still Gibbie only smiled.
    "Where do you come from?—Who are your family?—Where do you live?—Haven't you a tongue in your head, you rascal?"

2018/2023 Editions by Michael Phillips (The Cullen Collection and Generations)

Note the rendition of English with a semi-Scottish mix of words, while at the same time updating the idioms. The result is an easily understandable yet tantalizingly exotic text, often used in foreign movies. Read it aloud for the full effect.

    “Haith, creature!” he exclaimed. “Ye’re more of a man than ye look! What made ye run into the devil’s very horns that way?”
    Gibbie stood smiling.
    “If it hadna been for my stick, we’d both been knocked over the moon by this time. What’s yer name, man?”
    Still Gibbie only smiled.
    “Whaur do ye come frae? Whaur’s yer folk? Whaur do ye live?—Haena ye a tongue in yer head, ye rascal?”

Finally, let's look at the more controversial and often misunderstood topic of editing for content. In this new edited version for The Cullen Collection, Michael Phillips had the freedom that is seldom provided editors. He was not instructed at any point to make the book shorter (unless it makes the story better) or to remove any of MacDonald's message, regardless of how it might go against popular dogmas in Christianity today.  Instead, Phillips was able to clarify, shorten when appropriate to help with MacDonald's verbose propensity, and make the message more accessible for today's readers. 

In this example, MacDonald discusses the sins society sees as bad, and those that are acceptable, and offers hope to the worst of sinners in the end.

Original

    Alas for the human soul inhabiting a drink-fouled brain!  It is a human soul still, and wretched in the midst of all that whisky can do for it.  From the pit of hell it cries out.  So long as there is that which can sin, it is a man.  And the prayer of misery carries its own justification, when the sober petitions of the self-righteous and the unkind are rejected.  He who forgives not is not forgiven, and the prayer of the Pharisee is as the weary beating of the surf of hell, while the cry of a soul out of its fire sets the heart-strings of love trembling.  There are sins which men must leave behind them, and sins which they must carry with them. Society scouts the drunkard because he is loathsome, and it matters nothing whether society be right or wrong, while it cherishes in its very bosom vices which are, to the God-born thing we call the soul, yet worse poisons.  Drunkards and sinners, hard as it may be for them to enter into the kingdom of heaven, must yet be easier to save than the man whose position, reputation, money, engross his heart and his care, who seeks the praise of men and not the praise of God. When I am more of a Christian, I shall have learnt to be sorrier for the man whose end is money or social standing than for the drunkard. But now my heart, recoiling from the one, is sore for the other--for the agony, the helplessness, the degradation, the nightmare struggle, the wrongs and cruelties committed, the duties neglected, the sickening ruin of mind and heart.  So often, too, the drunkard is originally a style of man immeasurably nobler than the money-maker!  Compare a Coleridge, Samuel Taylor or Hartley, with--no; that man has not yet passed to his account. God has in his universe furnaces for the refining of gold, as well as for the burning of chaff and tares and fruitless branches; and, however they may have offended, it is the elder brother who is the judge of all the younger ones.

1963 Edition by Elizabeth Yates

[ completely removed section ]

1988 Edition by Michael Phillips (Bethany)

[ completely removed section ]

2018/2023 Editions by Michael Phillips (The Cullen Collection and Generations)

Michael Phillips keeps the paragraph's original message, while greatly shortening it and improving the clarity.  The message, now pruned of several rabbit-trails, comes out in increased clarity:

    Alas for the human soul inhabiting a drink-fouled brain! It is a human soul still, and wretched in the midst of all that whisky can do for it. From the pit of hell it cries out. So long as there is that which can sin, it is a man. There are sins which men must leave behind them, and sins which they must carry with them. Society condemns the drunkard because he is loathsome, and it matters nothing whether society be right or wrong, while it cherishes in its very bosom vices which are, to the God-born thing we call the soul, yet worse poisons. Drunkards and sinners, hard as it may be for them to enter into the kingdom of heaven, must yet be easier to save than the man whose position, reputation, money, engross his heart and his care, who seeks the praise of men and not the praise of God. God has in his universe furnaces for the refining of gold, as well as for the burning of chaff and tares and fruitless branches. And, however they may have offended, it is the elder brother who is the judge of all the younger ones.

Important Characters and Locations

Selected Quotes from Sir Gibbie

“No man can order his life, for it comes flowing over him from behind. But if it lay before us, and we could watch its current approaching from a long distance, what could we do with it before it had reached the now? In like wise a man thinks foolishly who imagines he could have done this and that with his own character and development, if he had but known this and that in time.”

“Now Gibbie had been honoured with the acquaintance of many dogs, and the friendship of most of them, for a lover of humanity can hardly fail to be a lover of caninity.”

“... he would perhaps have known that to try too hard to make people good, is one way to make them worse; that the only way to make them good is to be good -- remembering well the beam and the mote; that the time for speaking comes rarely, the time for being never departs.”

“Of all teachings that which presents a far distant God is the nearest to absurdity. Either there is none, or he is nearer to every one of us than our nearest consciousness of self. An unapproachable divinity is the veriest of monsters, the most horrible of human imaginations.”

“Even in the matter of stealing we must think of our own beam before our neighbour's mote. It is not easy to be honest. There is many a thief who is less of a thief than many a respectable member of society.”

“... she had now no inclination to trouble Gibbie's heart with what men call the plan of salvation. It was enough to her to find that he followed her Master. Being in the light she understood the light, and had no need of system, either true or false, to explain it to her.”