In 2010, I had three things going for me: an almost comically abusive relationship, a burgeoning case of housing insecurity, and a library card. The library card didn't exactly make up for the other two things, but it did a hell of a lot of heavy lifting during my time in Rhode Island.
I made two primary discoveries in the Providence Public Library: the films of Akira Kurosawa and the novels of Diana Wynne Jones. (We'll get to ol' AK some other time.)
If you've heard the name Diana Wynne Jones it's probably for one of three reasons:
You're a fan of the sort of all-ages fantasy stories that Jones was especially proficient in producing.
You saw her name in the credits of the film Howl's Moving Castle, which is based on one of her most famous novels.
You like Harry Potter and at some point, someone well, actually'd you to the fact that J.K. Rowling had ripped off Diana Wynne Jones extensively.
The Potter stuff is really more a matter of opinion. Rowling was clearly (and I believe openly) influenced by Jones, who, as I mentioned, wrote a lot of books - most of which dealt with wizards, witches, and schools of magic. You probably don't have Harry Potter if Jones doesn't write the Chrestomanci books, just like you definitely don't have The Egg Catcher if not for Neil Gaiman existing to be plundered extensively by yours truly.
It's enough to simply say that Jones was both prolific and influential. If I had to hazard a guess as to why she never translated to larger scale success in the States, I'd point to the one area where Rowling clearly has Jones beat: dramatic progression.
For me at least, Jones (and to a certain extent Terry Pratchett) suffer from storytelling that hits a single gear and never really amps up (or down). Things happen. Then more things happen, Then the last few things happen. Then things are done happening. Right or wrong, Harry Potter does a better job tapping into the sorts of rising and falling story beats we're used to. Rowling wasn't more inventive than Jones, and I don't think she wrote superior prose by any means. She just knew how to create mystery, build tension, and pay things off in a way that lots of readers (and consumers of stories in all formats) find satisfying.
All of which is say, yeah, Rowling almost certainly jacked Jones, but there's a pretty good reason why there isn't a Christopher Chant World in Orlando. (No, I will not explain who Christopher Chant is.)
I've enjoyed most of Jones' books that I've read. Howl's Moving Castle is one of my favorite films (and my preferred sick day watch), but it also highlights that Jones' may actually be better enjoyed through the lens of adaptation. If Harry Potter is an imitation of Jones' work, it's a slicker, punchier, more digestible version of her tales. Howl the film cleans and simplifies Howl the book in ways that certainly work for me. Honestly, I'd love it if more of Jones' books were adapted into something other than the source. The bones are great, after all. It's everything else that could use a tuck and a trim.
Honestly, this post isn't about dragging Jones. I do genuinely enjoy her books. It's just that the other day I suddenly remembered a very particular part of a very particular book and since then I can't quite stop wondering if the terrible thing I think happened actually happened, or if I had just misremembered things in an especially rapey way...
The Dark Lord of Derkholm is a weird book, even by Jones' standards. The plot - very loosely - is that there's a world with magic and there's a world without magic (which may or may not be Earth). Someone (I don't remember their name and I can't imagine you care) is exploiting the situation by bringing people from the non-magic world to the magic world for tours (at a great cost to the tourists). The inhabitants of the magic world are forced (for reasons I cannot recall) into play-acting a standard scenario catered to the expectations of the tourists. This means a series of elaborate quests ending with the defeat of the "Dark Lord."
The Wizard Derk and his family get roped into most of the worst roles. Derk becomes the Dark Lord of Derkholm, while his son Blade has to serve as the primary guide for the tourists. (I should say his "human" son, since Derk has human and griffin children - again, for reasons I don't remember.)
The book is a parody and at times pretty funny. It's also occasionally difficult to follow, since there seem to be about 300 characters and quite a few of them aren't human (though they all talk to each other just fine).
It's the sort of book you just sorta zone your way through. Which is why I was never sure if the thing I thought I remembered had actually happened. So I reviewed the text...
To set the scene, Blade and his siblings, including Shona (his teenage sister and lone human sibling), have been tasked with delivering the Dark Lord's evil horde to an encampment outside the faux castle. Unlike the rest of the actors in this elaborate tourist trap, the evil horde isn't being played by willing participants - it's being staffed exclusively by actual evil people, primarily violent criminals under the control of magic (the effectiveness of which is constantly being tested).
At one point in the long march, the violent horde breaks out of their temporary jail and starts running wild. Some make a break for it. Some attack the griffins, staff members, and various animals in the caravan. And quite a few swarm Shona, who is literally buried, screaming, under a pile of men who have been taunting and catcalling her throughout the journey.
The ordeal ends when a dragon named Scales shows up and intimidates the prisoners back into their jail. The book isn't explicit about what happened to Shona at the bottom of that pile, but the text seems to insinuate something beyond just physical harm:
Blade was kneeling by Shona. Shona’s hair was over her face, and her clothes were torn. She had blood on one arm, but Blade thought that was from someone else’s sheep bite. “Don’t touch me!”
she said.
“Are you all right?” Blade asked.
“Just don’t touch me!” Shona said.
Later, when talking to Scales, Blade says, “But Don’s hurt...and Shona’s—” before trailing off. Which seems to imply that Shona's something other than hurt.
Then there's the scene's resolution:
“Don’t touch me!” Shona cried out as they all came near.
“Sit up! Look at me!” Scales thundered.
Shona sat up as if the ground had burned her and stared upward, cringingly, into the dragon’s huge eyes. After a moment or so her body straightened and seemed to relax at the same time. “Oh, that’s better!” she said. “Everything seems—a long time ago, somehow.”
“Best I could do,” Scales rumbled. He sounded slightly apologetic. “Try to keep it long ago.”
“I will!” Shona said devoutly. “Blade, can you fetch me my spare clothes? I’m so bruised—no, I’m not! How did that happen? I’ll get my clothes. You lot go and round up the animals.”
Blade found himself beaming with relief. Shona was back to normal, and her old bossy self.
At the time, I remember thinking, "Uhhh...is that what I thought it was?" It seemed so out of place, so sudden, and so cruelly brushed past that I assumed I must have read it wrong. But it stuck with me. And every now and then, in idle moments across the years, I'll find myself thinking, "...what was the fuck was that, anyway?"
Upsetting violence happens in fiction (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is a fucking bloodbath) and I'm not saying Jones was wrong to do...whatever it is she did to Shona, but it is a weird choice. In a young adult fantasy. In a comedy. In a story about people playing make believe.
Shona makes it through the rest of the novel just fine. I'm not sure I can say the same for myself.
i like this one. glad to see you are still writing -melissa