Over Sea, Under Stone, Susan Cooper
It’ll surprise no one who knows me that I’m rereading this set of books at this time of year: Over Sea, Under Stone is more of a summer book, I suppose, but the one most rooted in a particular time of year is The Dark is Rising, the second book, in winter. (The runner-up would be The Grey King, set in the autumn around Samhain.) So I imagine that a few more reviews of these books will be added to my total before the end of the year…
I read Over Sea, Under Stone in one go, this time. There are still a couple of things that bother me, aside from the Enid Blyton-esque tone of the boys-own-adventure stuff. Like, why would Merriman leave them alone up on top of the hill? Why wouldn’t he ask more questions about who is attacking them? Why —
But it’s probably best not to ask those questions of this book, the earliest and least subtle. There are many subtle touches which I love later in the sequence, but this book is decidedly less mature. Which is not to say that it doesn’t have some very powerful sections: the last two chapters have an unbearable build up of tension that gets to me even at twenty-four years old. Mostly, I love that the characters feel real, squabble and support each other and have fears and weaknesses like real kids, real siblings. Simon’s such a superior brat, but he’s the more real for it. Jane’s a little bit stereotyped, I think: she’s more easily frightened than the other two, carries around “practical” things like a roll of cotton (but no mention of a sewing kit of any kind?), isn’t interested in male pursuits like fishing and sailing, etc. But even that isn’t so bad — she’s not Blyton’s Anne or George, but something closer to a rounded individual.
(Has anyone written an essay where each member of the Famous Five reflects a facet of a single psyche, or something? Because I just came up with that idea on the spot, and I’m too lazy to explore it myself.)
And, finally? Barney’s “cleversticks” is still the best pseudo-insult ever.