It is not uncommon, among a certain type of readers of a certain age, to proclaim this book as, if not a favorite read... a seminal influence.

It certainly was for me. I owned it as a young person. Initially, it was a stubbornly avoided book with what I considered to be... an uninspiring cover. As a consequence, I would not pick it up. But when, finally,  I did--it's really not too much to say, "delight and wonder awaited." 
​
The Sword in the Stone is, just as another enamored reader says, "an enchanted retelling of the childhood of King Arthur of England. The book's magical adventures, talking animals, and questing knights provide life lessons that foreshadow the rule of the most legendary king of all time." Yes. Enchanted--or enchanting--is definitely the word!

No one will ever claim that White was a master draftsman.  But the drawings are less dispensable than the modern publisher must believe. Certainly there are drawings that are cute, and add to the book's tone (especially for a young reader). There are humorous sketches of King Pellinore, anthropomorphized dishes washing themselves in a bucket--as if at a public bathhouse--along with the various animals that the Wart (future King Arthur) and his tutor Merlyn encounter on their adventures. But the drawings also included political references (a brutal giant appears, adorned with a swastika and the soviet hammer and sickle), and, more importantly, in early chapters they are directly referenced in the text. Merlyn tries to teach his charge about the confusions of living with "second sight" by having the Wart draw on a piece of paper--while looking only in a mirror. There is a one way that these drawings can be laid out properly on a modern typeset page--and clearly the paperback edition of TSitS I am reading from (which follows the beloved 1938 version of the text) didn't bother to set it up that way.  I had to crop together pictures from two pages to demonstrate how badly Wart manages it.

This is a book I have reached for through decades. In the 1990s, at least, the publishers honored White's inventive play. Perhaps King Pellinore and the playful dishes were gone, but the M (which should have been a W) and this delightful page were included, in which Merlyn attempts to conjure up his own pointed wizard's hat, and ends up shrieking, in an sulky passion, "This is an anachronism! That's what it is, a beastly anachronism!"

Modern publishers evidently know better, eliminating the intertextual illustrations (and the expense of producing them).

But what remains?

A book... which has been stripped not only of its humor, but of its capacity to be comprehended.

So--what this post is saying: I fear that ​The Sword in the Stone is lost to us as readers.

I find these forms irresistible. This one =>
is in the Wallace Collection in London, England.

I'll be visiting London in January, 2020 (if all goes as planned). It is a very, very long time since I've traveled for myself. I am... having some ambivalent feelings, trying to understand what this trip is for. To see beloved friends? Certainly. But... why else?

Among other ventures, I'm hoping to see the William Blake Exhibit at the Tate Gallery.  That-that will certainly be a privilege for me. But one gallery visit (or two, if I visit twice) won't take a full two weeks, which is what I'm booked for.

I'm pretty familiar with Renaissance ornaments like the Canning Jewel (actually a 19th century resurgence of the form). Originally these jewels would have been worn on the big, puffy brocade sleeves worn by wealthy cavaliers of the 15th, 16th, 17th centuries.  But this hare, which I came across just today, was a new one for me.