A forgotten post from March
A state of Fire and Hemlock shock and seasonal musings from the beginning of autumn
I’ve just finished Fire and Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones and I feel like I’m walking around in a daze. I am in awe of her writing. I knew this would probably happen; this was one book that people have told me before is their favourite of hers, but I never read it growing up like I did the Chrestomanci series. Fire and Hemlock is ‘for older readers’ and would probably be in the Young Adult section at the library (if they had a copy, which they don’t, a travesty! Curses be upon the librarian who withdrew the last copy). Neil Gaiman, in his introduction to Diana Wynne Jones’s Reflections: On the Magic of Writing, has said he cannot believe that her books haven’t won awards, and truly it is completely insane when you read something like Fire and Hemlock. But, as Gaiman says, she makes it look too easy. This is so true. When I read her books this is something I really can’t get over. I remember thinking it recently too reading Maurice Gee’s The Halfmen of O. The ease with which these glorious worlds are built, these unassuming characters become heroines - Polly and Susan - doing what needs to be done. Fire and Hemlock has left me homesick for its world and characters, which is a familiar feeling when you read something very good. It’s like I existed in that world, in those places: in Polly’s grandmother’s house that smells like biscuits, Polly opening packages of books from Tom wrapped in brown paper and going to school with Nina. That early scene of Susan and Nina on Halloween dressed up as high priestesses in long dark dresses, clambering over fences, running and hiding through neighbours’ gardens, bending over laughing so hard that they can’t breathe; that could’ve been me and my cousin so easily it felt like one of my own memories. I think that’s the appeal of Fire and Hemlock - the absolute realness of the real world, with those elements of the unreal, the magic, the sinister just sort of happening to Polly. It feels so recognisable.
As I write this it feels more than any other day so far like a change in seasons has taken place, even though I was hoping for summer to out stay its welcome in March, officially now autumn. It’s a lot darker than I expected, later in the morning than I expected, and I watched the sky glow bright orange over the Orongorongos out the kitchen window this morning while I made my cup of tea. Summer is my favourite season by far, but I had a little thrill this morning at the chill, and I suddenly had the urge to read Susan Cooper’s The Dark is Rising sequence. Choosing books to read based on the season might be a way for me to help ease the transition into the dreaded colder months. A friend said the other day that she is going to have an Autumn of Diana Wynne Jones, which I like the sound of. I should probably join her in order to give her back her copies of Black Maria, Archer’s Goon and of course Fire and Hemlock (maybe after one more read).
P.S. For the fans of Summer Games TM. Yes, there is an update: No I have not purchased a tetherball set, BUT Last Sunday, a swim was had. A tennis ball was thrown. (And caught, and dived for.) This was in the same outing as a good round of frisbee I might add. I might need to drop the Summer off the Games now that we are edging towards chillier climes. Admittedly, the ultimate goal was to catch the tennis ball mid air while jumping off the wharf at Hataitai but we were a bit too cold. Next up will have to be the velcro-hand-tennis-ball-catcher (is it legal to play this if it isn’t summer? Stay tuned for updates).
Reading or just read:
The Wolves of Willoughby Chase by Joan Aiken - I already had this out from the library but was pushed to open it after reading in Fire and Hemlock that it was one of the books Tom sent Polly (I love following these daisy-chains of books that lead to other books). It had me at Bonnie throwing a jug of water in Miss Slighcarp’s face and her hairbrush out the window on page 7. The cold, the history combined with the weird feeling given by an alternate reality (the world is early 19th century England with James III on the throne; wolves terrorise rural areas, having migrated through a new channel tunnel from Europe and Russia). I love love love the relationship between cousins Bonnie and Sylvia and they’ve just found a secret passage in the house so what more could you ask for really.
Boys and Girls Forever: Reflections on Childrens Classics by Alison Lurie. I’m really enjoying reading about the lives of celebrated children’s authors like Hans Christian Andersen, Louisa May Alcott, L. Frank Baum and Tove Jansson. I love reading books in a new light when you know about how the authors’ lives intertwine with their fiction.
Black Maria by Diana Wynne Jones. I’ve just started, this might have the best opening line ever: ‘We have had Aunt Maria ever since Dad died. If that sounds as if we have the plague, that is what I mean.’
The Grimmelings by Rachael King - beaut, fierce, gripping, perfectly realised new children’s chapter book about Ella and her family and her pony, Magpie, and the terrifying mythical creature, the water-dwelling selkie. The land and sense of place in this one was strong, and I got that nostalgic-for-another-world feeling when I’d finished.
Paku Manu Ariki Whakatakapōkai by Michaela Keeble and Tokerau Brown. Michaela Keeble wrote this with her son Kerehi, and it perfectly captures the voice of a child. It’s somehow this gorgeous subtle balance of crack up and really moving in parts. The text and the artwork speak so well together. I loved hearing Michaela Keeble and Tokerau Brown speak at the Aotearoa Festival of the Arts recently.
