Greenwitch, Susan Cooper

Greenwitch is the shortest book in the sequence — in my collected edition it is, anyway — but I find that there’s a lot more to chew on than in the first book, Over Sea, Under Stone. Here the world of the first book and the world of Will Stanton collide, and we glimpse both the high purpose and the kids at play. There’s more moral complexity here, a little more maturity… and then there’s also those very human kids getting jealous because Will’s friends with their Great-Uncle Merry.

I think the most appealing thing about this book for me is firstly the focus on Jane, on her actions, on her decency and insight as a human being actually being the key that unlocks victory for the Light… and secondly all the weird and wonderful hauntings of Cornwall that Cooper invokes. I want to know all the background of the weird night of horrors Jane glimpses relived due to the Greenwitch; I want to know who captains the black ship… It’s all fascinating and tantalising, and Cooper never explains too much. She leaves us wondering.

It’s not my favourite book of the sequence by far, but it has its own wild magic, for sure.

Rating: 4/5

Silver on the Tree, Susan Cooper

Finally finished my yearly(ish) reread with this book. The conclusion to the sequence is full of its own magic and beauty, but because of the ending, it just can’t be my favourite. (Perhaps in a similar way that The Farthest Shore doesn’t work for me; I don’t like it when the magic comes to an end!)

The whole sequence in the Lost Land is gorgeous, and probably my favourite thing about this book. Then, of course, there’s the interactions between the group – such disparate kids, and brought together for a quest beyond their understanding. As always, Cooper’s handling of the children and the way they react to each other, particularly the Drews, feels spot on and realistic. Of course they’re going to bicker. And of course the Welsh/English divide feeds into it, setting Bran apart. The whole sequence has had history intruding on the present and the present intruding into history; it’s appropriate that that fraught history also touches the story.

Reading it this time, I wasn’t sure about the pacing. It might just be that I want more, more adventures, more of the Six together, but everyone spent so much time in ones or twos rather than together. There’s so much hinted at – Bran’s relationship to Herne the hunter, for just one – that I would love to explore. That’s why I come back to the book, I suppose, and yet…

Rating: 4/5

Greenwitch, Susan Cooper

Greenwitch is the shortest book of the sequence, and yet that doesn’t mean that little happens. It’s perhaps the most densely packed with symbolism and meaning and mythology that you just can’t get a handle on: the drowned man, the ship going inland, Roger Toms, the Wild Magic… This book, to me, emphasises the aspects of this sequence which are otherworldly and quite beyond the human characters, even while the humanity of those characters plays a huge part. It is Jane’s human kindness which wins the day, in the end. But she’s meeting a world which is wild and amoral and strange to her, with rules that make no sense to her.

It’s also, once again, great on human interaction: the pettiness of Barney and Simon toward the intruder, Will, and Jane’s attempts to bridge the two worlds. More out of a sense that that’s the girl’s job, perhaps, than because she has any genuine interest in Will for himself. Jane is the most reluctant of the Six — right now I’m wondering a little if that’s because she’s the only female character. I hope not, but there are so many scenes where she’s timid, more afraid than the boys… But at the same time, she also has a different understanding of the world, and a deeper view on things. She’s the one who can see the Greenwitch for the lonely creature it is, the one who can see Will for the strange being he has become. Which might, again, be rooted in gender, but I don’t think it’s any kind of simple binary. Which is a relief.

The writing is, as with the other books, very fine: there are some excellent set-pieces, for example when Will and Merriman travel beneath the sea to meet Tethys, or Jane looking out over the harbour — even the descriptions of the caravan.

I’m probably way ahead of the TDiR Readathon now. Always happens! And it means you still have the opportunity to join in…

Rating: 5/5

The Dark is Rising, Susan Cooper

Slightly ahead of the ideal time to read this book — which would be veeery slowly, a chapter or two at a time, over the Twelve Days of Christmas. I never have the patience for that! As usual, I loved The Dark is Rising; the quiet moments of enchantment, the beautiful writing, the warmth of the family relationships and the reality of the bickering, protective group of siblings. There’s more adult, complicated stuff as well as simple squabbling among siblings: the whole relationship between Merriman and Hawkin is a difficult one, and foreshadows what John Rowlands says about the Light in a later book. The morality of the Light is a cold, clear justice.

One thing I noticed a lot this time, though, was how Britain-centric the sequence is. Every so often it’ll make a reference to other parts of the world — the Jamaican carnival head, the darker skinned Old Ones, etc — but it talks about the battle for “this land”. As though the struggle between Light and Dark throughout history is focused on Britain. I’m not sure that’s an attitude that can really fly anymore, however simple and obvious it may have seemed when the books were originally written. I love how rooted the books are in Britain, the landscape and the people and the different histories that intertwine, the Anglo-Saxon and the Celtic, the Roman. But the focus on Britain as the whole centre of the fight against the Dark seems short-sighted.

Still, that is the other thing to love: the glimpses of mythology surrounding the books. Not just the Arthurian mythology, but the mysterious king whose dead hands held the Sign of Water for Will; the lore of the smiths; the Old Ways; Herne the hunter… I wish I could read beyond the pages into all that richness.

Rating: 5/5

Over Sea, Under Stone, Susan Cooper

It’s time for a The Dark is Rising sequence readathon again! If you wish to join, you can do so via this blog. It’s the perfect time of year to reread the books, at least the second one in particular, with the winter solstice coming up. I always try and read them around this time of year!

With that said, here goes my millionth (ish) review of Over Sea, Under Stone. I’ve noted before that it’s basically an Enid Blyton adventure/mystery story, with Arthurian trappings. This time through, I noticed a bit more than that; despite the fact that it is much lighter than the later books in tone, for the most part, there are moments of darkness and fear: the moment on the top of the cliff with the standing stones, Barney captured, Barney in the cave, the last few pages before the epilogue… Because of that link to Arthur, because of the figure of Merriman, the seriousness that we see later in the story is still there. The Dark doesn’t go away safely in the way that the criminals always do at the end of a Famous Five book.

I think it’s partly that which makes the books survive for me — under the concerns of the children, there’s that darkness and fear.

Another thing which gets me is how all the people act like people. Jane and Barney and Simon get scared, they get jealous of each other, they puff themselves up and act important… The adults are indulgent, complacent. And then there’s the poetry of the quiet moments, the moon on the water and the quiet dusty attic and… Yeah. Brilliant writing. Not as compelling as the later books, but even here it’s very fine.

Rating: 4/5