Thursday, December 31, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone, Epilogue

Well, they did it.  The kids have secured the grail, even if they lost the manuscript which connected it to King Arthur. [Ah, provenance, no!]

Having left them on a narrowing band of dry rock between sea and cliff, with their enemies scattered and neutralized, the story picks up again some time later, with the kids in a museum.  Simon has just made a speech, and a reporter is bothering him, Jane, and Barney about what they mean to do with the hundred pounds they've just been awarded for finding and donating the grail.  Merry steps in and sends the reported off to talk with the curator, dismissing his questions about "someone else having been after it."

Apparently "the Light" has no problems lying to people.  They aren't, however, using any form of mind control as far as I've been able to tell, so that's something.

Merry talks with the kids, and it's revealed that Hastings is not, in fact, named Hastings, and that he's a long-time enemy of Merry's, apt to change his name and appearance.  Bill and Mrs. Palk were supposedly duped by him.  Merry also tells them that Hasting isn't, in fact, the vicar.  He was renting the old vicarage (the real Trewissick vicar,  Mr. Smith, found it too large and lived in a little cottage instead) and let Jane draw the wrong conclusion.

Simon and Barney express disappointment in missing the manuscripts, but Merry insists that finding the grail was a victory on its own, and that even the loss of the manuscripts was better than the risk of Hastings, et al, getting their hands on the truth of it.  I'm not sure how that works--wasn't part of the value of the grail in the that it told the story of King Arthur and would inspire people to be good? How is that information dangerous in the wrong hands?

Merry also mentions that the second manuscript, the one they didn't have a chance to read, should still be quite safe and hidden underwater in its lead case. Jane one-ups him here: it's not lost after all, as she apparently marked the place where the lead case fell--relative to the deep pool they'd crossed-- and thinks she could find it again, at a suitably low tide.  Merry's whisked away by academics before they can get him to promise that they can go back and hunt for it, leaving the kids to ponder the revelation that his full first name is "Merriman".

Barney works out a "Merry Lyon"-->"Merlin" connection, but dismisses it as impossible (I think not). The kids go over to the exhibit to admire their "gold chalice of unknown Celtic workmanship, believed sixth century".  It has four panels depicted men with weapons and odd helmets, and a fifth section covered in close writing of an unknown language.

They overhear scholars arguing about the grail, and if it proves King Arthur was real (how did the scholars make the connection without being able to read it?), and whether the final panel is in runes, or if it's encrypted.  Jane and Simon fret that without the manuscript they'll never know the truth of "The Pendragon", but as for Barney:
"I think we shall know", he said slowly, "one day."
End.

As far as "find the ancient artifact" plot lines go, it's an interesting option to have it end at a museum, without every little detail proven once and for all.  History is messy; pat endings are rare.  I'm a little put off by the scholars seeming to have information from no-where (like the kids 'having a feeling' during the main action of the book), but I like that some of them agree with Merry's version, and others don't.  It adds some verisimilitude.  It also sets things up nicely for future adventures: the truth is still out there!

I'm probably going to take a short break here, to get some necessary real-life writing done, but hope to be back with book 2, the eponymous The Dark is Rising, early in the new year.

Sunday, December 27, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone, Chapter 14

We left off with Barney and Simon are creeping through the passage under the headland, while Jane keeps watch for tides and enemies.  Merry is still off on a wild goose chase; Hastings & co. are somewhere between the Grey House and the headland, in pursuit of the kids.

The first challenge the boys encounter is light: the candle Simon brought got wet, so they're using the still-dry matches one at a time to light the way forward. They realize they've been slowly going uphill when the floor of the passage becomes dry, and are soon in a large cave.  It's a dead end.

Barney find a low continuation, partially blocked by a boulder, and persuades Simon to let him try searching a little farther. Even with the now-lit candle, it's a nerve-wracking journey in the dark, but Barney takes comfort in the thought of Sir Bedwin possibly being buried in the area. He hears a strange noise, and realizes it wind: he's directly under the hole up in the headland. There, on a small outcrop of the rock, he sees a flash of reflected light.

We have a grail!

Barney makes his way back, now without the benefit of the guttering and finally extinguished candle. He has a moment of panic (Did something happen to the others? Is one of their enemies now holding the line that he's following back?), but it turns out Simon's still there. Reunited, the boys discover a small leaden tube tucked inside the grail: it opens to contain an even frailer manuscript, which starts to crumble when touched (why are they doing this in the dark cave?). It's put away, and Simon remembers that they need to get moving: Jane has signaled that the tide's on its way back in.

Now we're back with Jane, literally back to when she's first left alone, holding the manuscript in its telescope case and the fishing line that anchors her brothers. She wonders about their parents finding the house empty (assuming, of course, that Mrs. Palk hasn't returned and lied to them as well about the kids' whereabouts). She wonders about their enemies (not currently in view, so possibly they haven't found the kids yet). She wonders where and why Merry would disappear at such a critical time (finally, someone's thinking about this). She starts to doze in the heat, and suddenly notices that the tide has begun to turn. She signals the boys, gets fearful when the don't respond (they're nearly out of fishing line), but finally gets the three tugs that mean they're coming back.

Once everyone's back on the rocks, they tuck the new manuscript in the case with the old one, and prepare to return.

Then the Lady Mary shows up, along with the incoming tide. Evil on a boat. Trouble.

They scramble back over the rocks at speed: Barney carrying the grail, Simon the manuscripts. The yacht's dinghy is heading towards them, while the kids race between the cliffs and the incoming sea, trying to get back to dry land.

It's delightfully dramatic.

Suddenly, there's more trouble: a second boat just ahead, containing Bill and Mr. Withers. Ack!

[Break to note that I think the build-up of tension works better in this scene than anywhere else in the book: villains and heroes are all acting reasonably to attain their different goals, and are coming into conflict, and it doesn't feel contrived.]

Their opponents have the kids trapped. The tide's still coming in. The villains offer safe passage in exchange for the grail, and the boys try to make a counter offer: take them to safety or the grail goes in the sea.  Unsurprisingly, this threat is not successful. 

Just then, another boat appears. It's Merry and Mr. Penhallow!

[One could call this a deus ex, but it also make sense that Merry, at least, knows the jig is up and that the kids are likely 1) near the headland looking for the grail, 2) in need of help].

Jane dodges around Bill and heads for Merry, Simon grabs the relics from Barney and throws the grail to Merry in his boat.

And it works.

He tries again with the telescope case containing the manuscript, but Mr. Withers hits it with an oar, opening the case and scattering its contents in the water. Hastings howls and dives after it, unsuccessfully, and all of the opponents head back to the yacht. Merry says something in a strange language, and Hastings “seemed to shrink within himself at the sound, so that the menace and power were all at once gone out of him.”

And yet, for all this power, Merry still can't cast detect lies.  

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone, Chapter 13

Simon and Jane, back at the Grey House, are getting worried since Barney's no where in sight. The carnival has apparently moved on, and they can't think of anywhere else he would go. Things get worse when Rufus arrives without Barney, looking oddly apathetic and disinterested. He's also moving slowly and strangely when Jane and Simon end up following him out to the harbor.

We flash over to Barney, who is definitely under some form of mind-control.

“He no longer had any thought of his own; it was a strange, relaxed feeling, as if he were comfortably half asleep. There could be no argument now. No fighting. He knew only that the tall dark figure walking by his side, wearing a wide-brimmed black hat, was his master.”

Barney may not be able to think for himself, but he can still see and hear. So, the reader hears along with him that they are heading down to the yacht, and that “our old Cornish friend” (Mrs. Palk, I assume) is responsible for getting everyone away from the harbor so that they won't be seen.

Fortunately, at that moment, Rufus saves everyone! Well, he howls “a long weird note so unexpected and anguished that for a moment they all stopped dead.” I'm not quite sure how that happened or what it signified (animals don't like The Dark?) but it works: Barney snaps out of the mind control and flees, rejoining Jane and Simon; they all race back to the Grey House, where the front door has just locked itself behind them. Taking temporary refuge behind the garden walls, Barney organizes his now-conscious thoughts from the last few hours, and realizes that they need to get the grail. Now.

Bill, Hastings and the Withers are watching the house and headlands. Trapped in the garden, Barney and Jane compare notes, and determine that the building Barney was in is the vicarage Jane visited-- though he's convinced that Hastings isn't actually the vicar.

With their route towards the headland blocked, Jane suggests waiting for Merry (a good idea if, say, they were in a place of relative safety, but they are currently outdoors, surrounded, and outnumbered, and why does she keep having to be the wet-rain-cloud-of-hopelessness?). 

Simon gets a moment of insight, and suggests that they can take advantage of the extremely low tide to try to reach the cave under the headland. They can walk there from the harbor, along the exposed rock. Jane's immediately back on task, noting that it was high tide when they heard the sea in the cave, so the entry was likely was still covered then, but it may be uncovered now, like all of the rocks. The two of them convince Barney, and Simon comes up with a plan for evading capture by approaching the rocks from an unexpected direction (through the next bay, where they normally go swimming).

Barney expresses concern for Great-Uncle Merry worrying about them, and I immediately dislike Simon again (a bit) for pulling rank as the eldest. He has a point that they can't look for both Merry and the grail, and taking Merry's absence as a sign of unconcern is understandable. However, under the circumstances, I'm surprised no one's fearing foul-play, or pointing out that they already looked for Merry (without success), and they've also been searching all likely places for Barney. Where else could they look for Merry at this point?

They reach the beach, but their moment's rest is disturbed by an "owl" call--Jane recognizes it as the enemy's signal from the night on the headlands--and the kids run for the tide pools.

We get another weird interlude between the characters: Jane's “motherly” concern is finally heeded (to get Barney to wear his sandals on the sharp rocks), but Simon, somehow, still can't resist teasing the others about ravenous fishes in the deep pools. With everything else going on that they have to actually fear, this inability to not stop taunting the others seems like a real personality problem. I'm not buying it as a reaction to stress, as he did the exact same thing when they first arrived in Trewissick (mocking Jane's motion sickness), and in the attic just before Barney found the map (talking up rats).

May I also say that it's bothering me how quickly Jane goes from resourceful and clever to designated pessimistic nay-sayer, and back? Maybe I'm expecting too much of a young character, but she's utterly awesome for long periods, and abruptly becomes the voice of hopelessness and worry when needed as a foil for Simon or Barney, then bounces right back to solving problems. Characters and people can be complex, but I don't care for how it's handled here.

The next section's pretty tough for that: Jane is worrying that Barney should have stayed behind (Where? In the garden surrounded by people whose mind-control he just escaped from?) on account of the pool depth, fretting about the narrow cave and the lack of light, and wishing they had a rope in case someone gets lost. Simon's now the thoughtful, prepared one (apparently), because he thought to grab some fishing line, a candle, and matches after their adventure with the hole under the stones. Jane also gets to fret about Barney going into the cave (after he's pointed out that, as the smallest, it'll be easier to for him than for anyone else). At least she's allowed to come up with the idea of using certain numbers of rope pulls to keep track of time/tide and to indicate trouble.

And thus ends chapter 13.

Monday, December 21, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone, Chapter 12

Or: What Barney Did When Simon and Jane Weren't at the Rendezvous Point.

Barney did not find Merry on the path up the headland—which makes sense, since Merry's off to Turuo on Mrs. Palk's false information.

Returning the corner where they are meant to meet, Barney quickly surmises that the others are absent because they're still following Mrs. Palk. He decides to join them. Recalling Mrs. Palk's excitement for the carnival and dancing, he falls in with the procession when it passes by.

The people in the procession are apparently all dressed up in costumes: trees, and sailors, and jesters, and animals... and racist caricatures (remember Mrs. Palk's “Red Indian” feathered headdress? Yeah, that's not just an allusion). Barney goes into the middle of the dance, and gets a glimpse of Mrs. Palk, right before he's literally carried away by a person dressed as a cat and a man in “sheik” robes.

I'm wagering the cat is none other than Polly Withers, and that her brother is the other.

And somehow, no one notices two costumed people manhandling a kicking and screaming boy out of the festival and into a car. They do trap and gag him with the robes, but this still seems like something that someone in this huge crowd should notice and express concern at.

Meanwhile, Jane and Simon, apparently failing to locate Mrs. Palk, have checked the house and the rendezvous corner, and have found no sign of Barney. They decide he must have found Merry on the headland, and head there.

Back with Barney in the car, he has identified his kidnappers by their voices. Yes, it's the Withers. And Norman Withers is in blackface, if you needed another reason to dislike him. Arriving at their destination, the Withers' disentangle Barney from the robes and resume their earlier seeming friendliness—inviting him in for tea and saying they just want to introduce him to a friend. The gas-lighting almost seems to work, as Barney starts wonder if it's just a festive joke, and that they really are nice, and the kids have just misjudged them. Bill Hoover's appearance reminds Barney of the chase and Polly demanding the map, and this time the abrupt shift really feels intentional: like Barney just broke some sort of enchantment that made him view people from “the dark” as favorably as possible. It would explain everyone's strange trust in Mrs. Palk... Or maybe “the dark” is just good at abusing with people's tendency to not assume malice.

Barney is brought into the presence of a deep-voiced person whom the others seem to defer to. He identifies himself as Mr. Hastings. They have sandwiches brought in, and Barney finds his surroundings fairly familiar: they remind him, somehow, of the Grey House. Mr. Hastings is interested and wants to know more.

Current guess: they're either at Bill Hoover's dad's house or the vicarage Jane ended up at earlier.

Hastings suddenly asks, “Is it buried under the Grey House, Barnabas, or one of the standing stones?” Barney chokes from surprise and pretends not to understand. I'm reminded of Polly Withers' sudden, direct questions, and I wonder if this is a standard strategy of their side.

It's somewhat odd to be asking that, however, because Hastings immediately launches into a villains' premature reveal, insisting that they already know everything, and that he's been brought here in order to “put a stop to your little quest”. Perhaps he knows less that he pretends and is fishing for more information? They're right on the kids finding a map and having Professor Lyon aka Great-Uncle Merry helping them, but nothing specific has been said about a grail, or its location.

[And if it was under the Grey House, why would the kids be taking the map up to headland? Shouldn't there presence there be a big clue to the opponents that the standing stones are more likely, since that's the one place the kids keep returning to?]

Barney continues to feign ignorance, and asks for another sandwich. Mr. Withers is dismissed on some errand (“you know what you have to do”), and Barney asks Hastings why the others address him as “sir”. Hastings knows that Barney is bluffing, and tries to put in a pitch for his side of things. It doesn't look good, as this involves more attempted gas-lighting rather than a straight-forward explanation of his opinions. There's also a lot of casting suspicion on Merry, and Hastings has the gall to suggest that he (Hastings) is clearly not evil, because he hasn't harmed Barney and even gave him food! There was no kidnapping, just a little joke, and it's was Polly's doing, anyway. Merry's really out for his own fame and is using the kids, etc.

Good grief. As much as Merry's light vs. dark explanation involved little solid evidence that the other side is, in fact, evil, the way the dark treats people has me decidedly opposed to them. So far, we've seen them pretend to be nice, then make demands; lie, directly and intentionally; make people doubt their own experience (gas-lighting); and then blame other people for what they can't explain away. They are also possibly are using magic or some other kind of psychic influence to make people disregard their harmful or frightening actions.

Hastings also tries the “I will tell you everything” gambit, offering to make everything clear if Barney will admit to seeing the map. Instead of explaining, however, he basically just argues that Merry is looking for selfish reasons, while he [Hastings] and his people want to make the information available to everyone. Barney almost slips, but manages to avoid naming the grail as the object of the map. When he answers Hastings' rhetorical question about Merry's motivation being “In the name of King Arthur, and of the old world before the dark came”, things manage to get even creepier, and Hastings gives orders to move out.

“Where are you taking me?” [Barney asked].

“You are coming with us to the sea,” said the voice behind the dark intent eyes. “You will cause no more trouble, and you will do whatever I say. And when we are on the sea, Barnabas, you are going to tell us about your map, and show us where it leads.”

And on that happy note, the chapter ends. I'm 90% sure at this point that Hastings can cast the imperius curse as a free action once per round.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone: Chapter 11

In which very little happens.

(Apologies for the delay on this one.)

This chapter probably works best when one is reading straight through the book; in isolation it suffers from being between what came before and what came after, with little new content to its own.

The kids return to the Grey House to share their news with Great-Uncle Merry, but the house is empty.  The reader anticipated this: in chapter 9, Merry dashes off immediately after being woken at 11 am, while the kids came looking for him in chapter 10 after noticing it was already 11:30 am and figuring that he should be awake.

Finding the house empty, with no trace of Merry or Mrs. Palk, they decide to split up and search. Barney and Rufus will head up the hill to see if Merry is climbing the headland and passed them. Jane and Simon will look for Mrs. Palk at the festival, to see if she knows were Merry went.

Simon and Jane head back to the harbor, where they met Mr. Penhallow (the fisherman from chapter one, owner of the White Heather), and pick up some more local knowledge.  Mrs. Palk's first name is Molly; her husband, Jim, is deceased.  He also mentions her relationship to Bill Hoover (who just lost the swimming contest to young Walter Penhallow), but goes on to say that the family's estranged; Molly Palk apparently also has a reputation for avarice.  This ruins my previous hypothesis that she's only working for "the dark" because she was doing a favor for, or was tricked by, her relatives; instead, we're meant to conclude that Mrs. Palk betrayed a group of kids for mere money.  That's... not a very nice thing to do.

Then music-and-dance procession shows up, and the Simon and Jane spot Mrs. Palk; they try to follow her, still meaning to ask after Merry.  Apparently, they're still not taking Barney's warning seriously--and they just missed the rendezvous with Barney by following the procession.  On that ominous note, the chapter ends.

New characters (mentioned, have not interacted with the POV characters)

Walter Penhallow--Sixteen; youngest son of Mr. Penhallow; in the merchant navy; better swimmer that Bill Hoover and apparently gracious about it

Jim Palk--dead, was married to Molly Palk

Monday, November 30, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone, chapter 10

In which the kids hang out at at Kemare Head, and make an important discovery.

Well, first they investigate the rocks revealed by moonlight, and Barney volunteers that (according to Mr. Penhallow from chapter 1) the locals avoid the area, calling it the "gravestones."  This gets him thinking of Sir Bedwin being buried "over sea and under stone", and they search the rocky headland for any possible place the grail could be buried--skeptical Simon points out that the area's mostly bedrock with very little soil, so it's unlikely anything is buried there, but since they're out of ideas, Jane suggests methodically searching for a place the grail could be buried.

They don't find it.  Jane does pick up a neat petrified shell, however.

Everyone's getting pretty morose about never finding the grail at this point, when, fortunately, Rufus the dog gets lost.  In a transparent Deus ex Canine, they find him pawing at one of the rocks, which Simon discovers has a tiny gap in it.  He and Jane manage to shift it, revealing a seemingly bottomless hole.  "This must be it, mustn't it?  It must be where he hid the grail!"

Another clever idea for Jane: dropping a rock into the hole and listening for it to hit the ground. Unfortunately, it's too deep for them to hear anything.  We get another episode of 'fun details from their outside lives' when the kids turn out their pockets looking for something that will help them measure the depth of the gap.  [Simon loses another five points from Gryffindor for the "Two hair-grips. Just like a girl" remark.  Yes, Jane wears her hair long enough that having spare hair ties is useful.  It's not an inherent trait of her gender, nor does it require commentary from you, Simon.] Between the three of them, they work out a system using Jane's spool of thread, a pencil and Barney's scrap of wire, which determines that the hole is over 150 feet deep.

This knowledge probably won't help then get the grail, but while determining it, Jane noticed that she could hear the sea through the hole in the headland: it's the vent to a cave.  A cave with some sort of seaward outlet.

There's a Weathertop Moment, when Simon sees the Lady Mary (the Withers' yacht) and everyone hunkers down out of side behind the rocks.  Suddenly, they realize it's 11:30 and Great-Uncle Merry hasn't found them yet.  Could he still be sleeping?

My favorite bit of this chapter is the how the kids go about solving their problems creatively (new headcanon: Simon grows up to be less sexist, Jane gains some more confidence, and they both become engineers).  Least favorite bit is how often decisions are made based on 'having a feeling' rather than solid evidence: the grail must be hidden under these rocks, it must not have ended up underwater and degraded, time is running out, etc.  It does allow complications to be brought up, but it also means they are being dismissed rather than addressed.  Nonetheless, the race is clearly on!

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone Chapter 9

Or, what Barney did that night, and what happened after.

Basically, Barney goes to sleep, but wakes in the night with a feeling that someone is in his room.
I like the little bits of detail that work their way into this chapter: the Drews' home in London, for instance, is a flat in a divided house, and it apparently does it's share of night-time creaking. Barney is used to this waking him, and has a whole little process for checking the room for burglars while appearing to roll over in his sleep, and then feeling silly because it's always just the house. The little tidbits like this make it seem like the characters have lives outside of the novel. Yay.

Except, here in the Grey House, it's nothing so benign. The door's slightly ajar, and SOMEONE IS IN THE ROOM WITH A TORCH! (That's flashlight to us Americans.)

Barney's still processing this, when he recognizes the mysterious invader's slight sniff; turning on the lamp confirms the intruder to be Mrs. Palk. ?!?! She claims to be looking for the cup Barney had earlier in the evening, which Jane had already returned downstairs.

Is Mrs. Palk evil? She could have legitimately forgotten about the cup and not want to disturb Barney, like she says (though in that case, why not retrieve the cup in the morning?).  Likewise, when she earlier saw Barney with the manuscript's telescope case, she could just have been curious about what he was doing. At the same time, the coincidences are starting to look suspicious, and I'm wondering if Barney's sudden sleepiness after the others left had more to do with a busy day outside or if Mrs. Palk purposefully detained him in the house and then drugged or enchanted him it in an attempt to steal the map.

The rest of the party arrives, and Simon catches Barney up on their discovery of the moonlight clue. Barney warns Simon against discussing anything in front of Mrs. Palk. I don't care for Simon's response, and am taking five points from Gryffindor:

“We shouldn't. She wouldn't understand it anyway.”

This reads like a classist, sexist, ageist, and/or region-ist dismissal (Mrs. Palk being older, a woman, a servant, and from a small rural village instead of London), and that's something I'd expect more from a villain than one of the heroes. Powerful villains underestimating seemingly lowly heroes is a staple of the whole fantasy genre. Simon could be (imprecisely) saying that she doesn't have the background information to connect their conversation to the manuscript and grail, but that's not how I or Barney understand it. Barney then explains about Mrs. Palk sneaking through his room and accuses her of wanting the map; Simon is “skeptical” about this new information.

At breakfast the next day, the kids are up earlier that Merry, and Mrs. Palk talks up the village festival while they eat; she encourages them to get outside so that Merry can sleep in after staying up so late. As Merry specifically said not to venture out without telling him, Barney finds this suspicious; Jane and Simon, however, disagree about Mrs. Palk being an enemy, and decide to leave a somewhat encoded message for Merry with her: they're taking Rufus on a walk. Merry will know that they mean 'going up to the Headland'.

I would like to recall at this moment that Jane's earlier stated an unfounded dislike of Mrs. Palk. While it bothered me, having it act as foreshadowing makes more sense that having Jane suddenly dismissing Barney's suspicions. Not that everyone you dislike is evil (though so far, it's between 4/4 and 5/5 for the kids, specifically Jane), but that it seems abrupt and out-of-character to presume this person benign, over-ruling not only that previous dislike, but also Barney's experience of the last night and the current pressure to divide them from their protector. Sure, it's all circumstantial, but the circumstantial evidence is mounting rather quickly.

When the kids leave (by a gap in the back hedge, since Bill, who chased Smon yesterday, is watching the front), Mrs. Palk cleans up very quietly, makes some tea, and tries on her fancy hat for the festival.

Two things that bother me here:

The first, is the use of the term “Red Indian Headdress” to describe the feather-and-ribbon-covered festival bonnet. The second is the focus on Mrs. Palk using the captain's best tea cup; while not explicit about motivation, it's depicted as somehow bad, like she's using things above her station because Team Evil is greedy and selfish.

Despite this, I was inclined to like her and assume naive good intentions which (coincidentally or through interference by the Dark) hinder the kids. That is, until she goes to wake up Merry and lies to him about where the kids are. Everything's done with the same largely-polite and helpful attitude she's always displayed before. Suddenly, it's clear that she drove them off and was being quiet, not out of concern for Merry, but because she wanted to separate him from the kids. She sends him off on a wild goose chase to Truro, by way of St. Austell, then heads off with her festival hat, smiling.

Yep, definitely working for "The Dark".

Character Update:

The “Light”
Prof. Merry Lyon: International Man of Mystery, Archaeologist, Bad Houseguest
Simon Drew: There's hope, but he needs to learn about not being a dismissive jerk.
Jane Drew: Hermione Granger, but occasionally handed the idiot-ball.
Barney Drew: Lucy Pevensie, but slightly less angelic; obsessed with King Arthur.

The “Dark”:
Mr. Withers: Fiendish antiquarian
Miss Withers: Friendly until the map comes up
Bill Hoover: Working for the Withers, fast runner, lousy bicyclist
Mr. Hastings: Vicar, wears black, frightens the kids
Mrs. Palk: Seems friendly, do not underestimate her

Unknown:
Dick Drew “Dad”: doctor, fishing enthusiast
Ellen Drew “Mom”: artist
Miss Haverton: family friend; artist and fishing enthusiast
Mr. Penhallow: the fisherman from chapter 1 who told Barney about Trewissick
Captain Toms: owns the Grey House, still unseen
Rufus: dog, gets along well with Barney
Vayne: skipper on the Withers' yacht; unseen

Rev. E. J. Hawes-Mellor: late vicar, wrote a guidebook to Trewissick which used the old name “King Mark's Head” for Kemare Head, which Merry found peculiar.  

Friday, November 20, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone Chapter 8

On to the next clue. Well, first we get to see Mr. and Mrs. Drew having their own lives and interacting other adults! While the kids were running around during the day, Dick & Ellen (Mom's also got a first name now!) ran into an old friend, Miss Hatherton. She's a sculptor who lives nearby, and was one of Ellen's art school teachers. She also “has a passion for catching sharks”(!?!?!), and is thus ideal company for both parents. While, on the one hand, she's rather a transparent plot device to keep the elder Drews busy while Merry and the kids talk, it's really nice to have adult characters being absent because they have lives and interests, and not because they are dead. In universe, she could also be either a plant from the “light” (distracting the parents so the kids can solve mysteries) or a plant from the “dark” (distracting the adults around them so the kids have fewer potential allies), or purely an old friend meeting by chance.

With their parents thus engaged in conversation after dinner, the kids catch Merry up on their day and the clue in the standing stones. I still think it's pretty conjectural, but to be fair, here's the actual quote from the medieval manuscript-writer:

“So, therefore, I trust it to this land, over sea and under stone, and I mark here the signs by which the proper man in the proper place, may know here it lies: the signs that wax and wane and do not die.”

The “signs that wax and wane” bit is more concrete that I was giving it credit for before. It's still a pretty tenuous conclusion.

Jane gets a few more good bits of reasoning in, figuring out that a smudge on the map is actually a moon, and that the next step could involve looking in the direction the standing stone pointed, by moonlight. Simon gets in the question I've been wondering about: solar and lunar positions change throughout the year—not to mention over the course of a day—so the directions they're getting right now in the summer will be wrong if the original route was planned in late autumn or early spring. Merry helpfully tells them that the present season will work (apparently with some special knowledge of his own). Less than a page before, however:

“This is your quest”, he said. “You must find the way every time yourselves. I am the guardian, no more. I can take no part and give you no help, beyond guarding you all the way.”

Um, yeah. 1) Why? What's tying his hands? Some sort of fair-play agreement with the other side? Laws of arcane magic? A belief in heroic narratives ala HPMOR's version of Dumbledore? 2) He earlier mentioned that he'd been looking for the manuscript (not knowing what it was) for years. What was he planning on doing with it if he can't be involved? Or it is some sort of quest-preemption thing where he could be the one searching for the grail if he'd found the manuscript first? 3) So, except for translating the manuscript, confirming the kid's speculations (the King Arthur connection, the seasonality of the signs), running interference with their opponents, rescuing Simon, etc., Merry can't be involved. I guess the last two could count under 'guarding', but this sanctity of the quest stuff seems both contrived and unevenly enforced.

The next night--their parents conveniently off in Penzance for art talk and fishing with Miss Hatherton--Jane, Simon and Merry head back up Kemare Head to test their hypothesis about the next clue involving the moon. Barney stays at the Grey House on manuscript duty, kept home by Mrs. Palk on account of a very bad sunburn (she thinks the others are going night fishing). Up on the headland, they work out the next sign: a rocky outcrop outlined by moonlight when viewed from the standing stone. Merry vanishes, and Jane and Simon find themselves confronted by the “man in black” (inconceivable!) who chased Simon last chapter. They flee and find Merry on the path: apparently, their enemies showed up and he went off to deal with them, but missed one.


Jane gets another revelation as the chapter ends: by moonlight, she recognized the “man in black” as the vicar who she asked about Trewissick's coast, and who saw her sketch of the map.  I suppose this explains the bad feeling she had about him.  It also brings are total villain count to four: Mr. Withers, Miss Withers, Bill Hoover (revealed by Merry to be the son of Mrs. Palk's "good for nothing" brother), and the vicar/"man in black".  

Monday, November 16, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone: Chapter 7

The next day, the kids visit Kemare Head and speculate about the signs they're trying to uncover, while Great Uncle Merry goes fishing (to distract their opponents). Unfortunately, while the Withers' yacht follows Merry, Polly Withers has apparently stayed behind. She and Bill the Bad Bicyclist interrupt the kids' outdoor brainstorming session, full of polite small talk which ends with an abrupt demand to know if the kids “found a map”. They dissemble, though not very well (Barney apparently put a few skill points into bluff, but the others made untrained checks and rolled poorly to boot).

Alone again, they start thinking about yesterday's conversation with Merry, and the view of Kemare Head from the other headland; Barney remembers the shadow of one of the standing stones being note-worthy. They climb up to the stones and start working out where the shadows point, debating the possibility of the grail being buried under one of them, or that the stones point the way to the next clue. The age of the stones makes them rule out the grail being there (though it's a better idea than the earlier one that the grail was in the Grey House itself), and Barney notes that the headland is “over sea”, so the next step is to find the “under stone” bit.

Around this time, Polly and Bill reappear, see the kids with the manuscript, and demand a look. Simon actually does something useful, in grabbing up the manuscript and running away with it; Bill attempts to follow him. Somehow, I just know Miss Withers will get the Drew children's parents involved now, probably by mentioning how rude they were, and suggesting that they have something not-rightfully-theirs, perhaps lost by the Withers (in which case, it'll be interesting to see how the kids get out of the situation without being forced to hand over the manuscript). At least, if I were evil and maintaining friendly social interaction, I'd give it a try.

Barney and Jane go for help (ie, Great Uncle Merry). Meanwhile, there's a dramatic chase scene (on foot) through the outskirts of Trewissick, but Simon gets a little lost and ends up near the church instead of the safety of the Grey House. He cleverly manages to hide before Bill can catch him, only to see Bill meet a man dressed in black, who appears to be yet another confederate, though the snippet of conversation Simon overhears doesn't reveal anything we didn't already know.

He waits until the coast is clear, then starts for Trewissick. Surprise! Bill and the man in black (inconceivable!) are actually not that far away. They start to chase Simon again as he makes his way towards the village. He's exhausted and out of ideas, and worried that any passer-by he might approach for help will side with the strange man chasing him rather than helping.

Fortunately, the car Simon nearly runs into at the cross roads is being driven by Great Uncle Merry. They drive off, and the chapter ends.

I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. The kids' work on the manuscript puzzle feels very...non-concrete. They have almost nothing to go on, so it all feels like guesswork, with no real way to check if they're on the right course or not. The actual developments here seem to be the enemy breaking cover (though we already established that the Withers, and by extension, Bill, are on the opposing side), and the escalation of aggression as shown in the chase: not a lot happens, per se, but it feels like the stakes just rose and time just got shorter, because the kids were being personally confronted.

The other thing that felt weird was in the original discussion: this time it's Barney and Simon coming up with all the ideas (at least where the dialogue is clearly attributed), while Jane gets to scold and be “petulant”. She gets in a good point that something which has stayed hidden for 900 years (if it's indeed still hidden) is likely buried, but she's not given many good lines in this chapter—even the idea of going for Merry when Simon is being pursued comes from Barney.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone, Chapter 6

Chapter 6: A Great Deal of Exposition

As chapter five ended, Mother told the children that Great-Uncle Merry wanted to take them out for the afternoon, and Barney proposed to the others that they tell him about the map. For the first time, no one (read: Simon) argued that telling an adult would ruin everything.

Chapter six opens with the three children and their uncle heading out for a walk, with all three children requesting that they go “somewhere lonely”, “somewhere miles from anywhere” and “somewhere we can talk”. It's anyone's guess who said what.

The group climbs the headland opposite Kemare Head (which, Jane learned, is labelled “King Mark's Head” on the map), once again in silence, with the children “trotting” to keep up with Great-Uncle Merry. He's really not good at all about being friendly or accommodating other people. Maybe I'm weird, but going on a fun outing, it feels much more natural to make conversation with one's companions, and walk at a speed comfortable for the slowest members of the group.

Reaching the top, Merry gives us a Latin reference to King Arthur (“Hic incipit regnum Logri...”/“Here begins the realm of Logres...”) and asks the kids what's wrong. Inexplicably, Barney and Jane look to Simon to explain—perhaps he's supposed to be the 'leader' as the eldest, but he's also the designated useless party thus far, not to mention the last hold-out against telling adults. So, naturally, the two who have proposed seeking help, advanced useful hypotheses about the manuscript and found information about it, defer to him. In a moment, they're all three talking anyway, but the seemingly-out-of-character deference is apparently a theme in this chapter--which also explicitly confirms that Simon is a whole eleven months older than Jane, and thus see himself as the trio's rightful spokesman.

Anyway, they show Great-Uncle Merry the scroll and explain about finding it, then start asking him their questions regarding it's age and purpose. Most of the dialogue is not attributed, though I expect Barney's behind the “Is it important? Is it buried treasure?” line.

Merry promptly goes into wise-old-plot-dispenser mode, explaining via Socratic questions that all fairy stories are true, give or take some slight magical embellishments. Simon reasserts his role as skeptic (in contrast to Barney's fantastic beliefs) by initially asserting that “once upon a time stories” aren't true; Jane takes the middle path by proposing that “perhaps they were true once, but nobody could remember when”.  She is, of course, right, according to Merry.

Barney gets to info-dump his favorite subject of King Arthur, and Merry confirms that he was, in fact real. And then he really gets back into exposition mode. The short version, is that the light and the dark are constantly fighting and neither side can permanently win, because everyone's at least a little good and bad. King Arthur was apparently one of the people working for the light, and even though he failed, people of the future need his inspiration for their own fight... You know, I love reading stories in which the protagonist struggles against the inevitable because it's the right thing to do. I see that that's where this light versus dark conflict is trying to go (which is perhaps why I liked the series so much when I was a kid). Nonetheless, it feels rather contrived and inconsistent, like it's trying to shoe-horn high and dramatic ideals into a plot which doesn't quite fit; I think the whole concept would have come across better if less attempt was made to explain it.

And then there's the bit that just has to be quoted, it's right after Great-Uncle Merry explains that the light and dark are constantly struggling and neither side can win:

“Sometimes, over the centuries, this ancient battle comes to a peak. The evil grows very strong and nearly wins. But always at the same time there is some leader in the world, a great man who sometimes seems to be more than a man, who leads the forces of good to win back the ground and the men they seem to have lost.”

I wonder how the other side's version goes. Do they also need a great leader when their enemies appear to have the upper hand? Or is it just that some jerk show up to rally the opposition every time they're about to win?

On a more practical note, how can one side grow and 'nearly win' when the previous paragraph states that “...sometimes one of them seems to be winning and sometimes the other, but neither has ever triumphed altogether. Nor ever will [Uncle Merry said] for there is something of each in every man.”
That “nor ever will” seems to be key point in making the whole effort futile. I could see it working if the point of the struggle was to improve the world by keeping the good side in ascendancy as much as possible (in which case, doing good in the world would make more sense as a strategy than speaking of battle and searching for lost artifacts.)

Anyway, we get another long info dump with Merry reading the manuscript. There's the Latin introduction, from a 14th century monk explaining that he found and copied this earlier manuscript. It, according to Merry, was an 11th century piece written in early English. And it makes No. Sense. At. All. That is, we get nearly three pages of translation, and 80% of it is the writer, a Cornish knight, discussing how the information (a grail engraved with King Arthur's deeds and a “promise and proof” of him coming again) came to him and why he doesn't have anyone else to pass it on to. It's an interesting outline and suggestion of its own story, but much of it makes no sense for the guy writing it to have written it. The last paragraph is a cryptic remark to certain 'signs' that will lead one to the grail, though it's more of a statement that such signs exist than, say, even a coded reference to what to look for. Standard fantasy tropes are invoked: the riddles leading to a need relic from the past, the hereditary stewardship of the relic, the fading of the good old power (new kings aren't as good as the old ones, etc.).

The kids and Merry catch each other up on the Withers situation (they're looking for the manuscript, they're on the other side, Merry knows that they are not, in fact, brother and sister). Merry mentions that he has been looking for the manuscript (not knowing what, exactly, it was); Barney guesses, and get Merry to admit, that he brought the Drews to Trewissick for them to stumble on it, and that he's been away so often in order to mislead their enemies.

I suppose that explains why Merry keeps disappearing without notice, but it really confuses his relationship with the kids. He knows them well enough to guess that they'll find an unknown artifact, lost for centuries, which he hasn't been able to uncover, and that they won't tell their parents or other authority figures (the police, Capt. Tom, Mrs. Palk); they, however, don't know him well enough to confide in him until the robbery forces their hands.

On the topic of the robbery, we waste two whole pages with the kids and Merry discussing why they didn't tell the cops about the manuscript and the Withers' connection to the break-in. It basically re-hashes a lot of the kids' tell-or-not arguments from before, and comes down to assuming that the police would be condescending to the kids, or would decide it was an irrelevant, private quarrel between Merry and Mr. Withers, or would conclude that Merry was imagining things. I suppose this conversation does resolve all the previous 'should we tell or not?' discussions, but as it's the third time the topic's been addressed in 60-odd pages, and the same viewpoint prevails each time, it feels a bit repetitive.

The four of them look at the map again, and Barney points out that it looks like one of the mother's “perspective sketches” (knowing very little of art history, isn't perspective handled quite differently in the 9th century than it is in the 20th?). They decide it's actually a picture, the viewpoint from the very headland they're on, but draw no further conclusions for how to proceed; Merry suggests that they sleep on the matter. The plan, such as it is, is for the kids to try to locate the grail, while Merry continues to play the decoy. As far as fantasy tropes go, I'll give them credit that it's a plausible reason for the wise-old-dispenser-of-plot-points to leave vital matters in the sole hands of the people infinitely less qualified.

Sexism watch: Simon does credit Jane with the coastline research she did last chapter. Yay! Perhaps he can learn. Nothing else egregious popped out at me, though at one point Jane declares that she doesn't trust Mrs. Palk, and that pronouncement seemed to come out of nowhere. I'm putting that here, because Jane and Mrs. Palk make up 50% of the named female characters, and their interactions thus far have been cordial, so making one suddenly dislike the other feels like an attempt to shove in some cattiness.  Perhaps, however, Jane is speaking as Hermione-of-the-great-deductive-power rather than as the-only-female-lead and it's actually foreshadowing that Mrs. Palk is in league with The Dark. We'll see.

Monday, November 2, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone, Chapter 5

Apologies for the delay.

Chapter five begins with the children catching each other up on their day's separate activities: Simon and Barney's time on the yacht, and Jane's discoveries with the map. Jane once again proves herself to be Hermione Granger: she's explaining the results of her research to two boys who would rather disagree over the need for outside help than acknowledge her contribution to the project. At least, Simon decides to berate her for copying part of the scroll and showing it to an adult, though Barney eventually manages to admit that her discovery is, in fact, useful. To recap: Jane's discovered that the manuscript contains a map of Trewissick, albeit with a slightly different coastline, and consulted with the local Vicar, who asserts that the coastline hasn't changed.

We then skip to the next day, where Simon wakes up to discover that the Grey House has been burglarized. Every book and picture is in disarray, but obvious valuables are left alone; the children eventually will realize that the only items missing are maps. Barney's suggestion of a ghost or poltergeist is ruled out by a single foot print found under an open window, while the police eventually declare it all to be a juvenile prank, perhaps from someone with a grudge against Captain Tom. The police sergeant also apparently knows and respects Uncle Merry to a certain extent. In another world-building tidbit, the police are summoned from St. Austell; apparently, Trewissick is too small to have its own force. Also, my reading of Simon 'trying to act like an adult but not being particularly good at it' gets some vindication:

“Simon was looking forward to eager questions about his discovery of the crime. At the very least, he thought vaguely, he would have to make a statement. He was not quite sure what this meant, but it sounded familiar and important.”

The sexism update for this chapter includes the police talking to Mr. Davies (and a little to Simon and Professor Merry) but not to Mrs. Davies, who actually discovered the footprint. She also deduced that it came from a crepe-soled shoe; I see her as a grown-up version of Jane, noticing useful details, but not being credited for it.

The children converse, with Jane and Barney figuring that the intruders were deliberating searching for something, and that they specifically took maps. All three realize that the manuscript could be the target, and have a moment of panic when it's not on the boys' wardrobe. Fortunately, Jane recalls that she hid it in her bed during her outing the previous day, and discovers that it's still there. In a change of pace, Simon credits her for finding such a safe hiding spot; unfortunately, the narrative uses some unpleasant terms to describe Jane's “hysterical” laughter upon remembering where the scroll is, and has her “babbling” the explanation for why it's there.

Also unfortunately, the last two pages of the chapter start giving Jane Simon's idiot ball. She gets to assert that it's “silly” to think the break-in was related to the map as no one could have known about it. While she's right that it lay undisturbed in the attic for years, their earlier argument about her showing it to the Mr. Hasting suggests an obvious rebuttal to her assertion: he could have deduced the presence of some sort of map with the coastline Jane sketched, and either wanted it, or related the information to someone else who did.  Instead, Simon brings up a “funny feeling” about Jane showing the sketch, and Jane insists that vicars can't be bad—which either shows great faith in humanity, specifically in the Church of England, or else a naivete that feels slightly out of character for Jane, particularly in light of the misgivings she felt while talking to this exact vicar the day before.

Barney quite naturally brings up Mr. Withers' strange interest in maps in the Grey House. Now it's Simon's turn to defend the suspect, though he doesn't even offer a half-baked reason for asserting that “It couldn't have been him”.

Jane once again brings up the idea of telling their parents about the manuscript. Under the circumstances, she's really has a point. Simon tries to insist that it wouldn't help and that they should have a chance to decode it alone. Barney insists that it's their “quest”. Apparently, first rights to treasure and chivalry ideals of quests outweigh their family's actual security. The narrative earns my enmity by declaring Jane to be pompous when she reasserts that “after last night” they really should tell their father (who may be able to take steps to protect the family and/or the manuscript) or the policeman (who's trying to figure out the break-in and might benefit from knowing about a possible motive, though his condescending words and conclusion-jumping suggest he wouldn't be a particularly attentive audience).

The chapter ends with Barney realizing they could tell Uncle Merry. It literally ends with this, so there's no time for further reiterations that telling any adult would ruin things—Simon has apparently forgotten his entire “no adults” argument all of a sudden, or else he bring it up off-page, only for Jane and Barney to outvote him. At any rate, the next chapter will start all three children unanimously angling for a private talk between them and him.

Friday, October 23, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone, Chapter 4

Chapter 4: In which Jane does her own investigating. In a completely unrelated state of affairs, no content notes for this chapter.

It's a new day, and the boys are off to their yachting expedition.  Before they go, Simon gives Jane the manuscript for safe-keeping. She once again points out a problem (handling the scroll damages it, so they need a safer place for it that Simon's socks), and for once, Simon is useful. He remembers the telescope case they found, and it fits the bill perfectly.

Left to her own devices, Jane promptly and literally stumbles over a useful clue: a local guidebook containing a map.  Using her powerful observation skills and not inconsiderable deductive power, she determines that the faint sketch on the manuscript is a map of Trewissick (even matching "King Mark's Head" to the headland's modern name: "Kemare Head"), and that the coastline has changed since the map was made.  Applying her earlier idea of seeking adult help, she decides to consult with the guidebook's author, who is apparently the local vicar.

Leaving Mrs. Palk under the impression that she's visiting the church (which she expects to do, despite it not being her main purpose) Jane makes her way to the vicarage.  It's in bad repair; the author of the book is apparently dead, but his successor, one Mr. Hastings, offers to help. He asks Jane about the coastline penciled in the guidebook*; she avoids mentioning the scroll, claiming to have found the other coastline or "something like it somewhere, in a book, or something." At this point, Mr. Hastings starts echoing the Witherses with questions about books and maps in the Grey House; he also has a rather strong interest in his predecessor's guidebook.  Jane deflects the inquiries, saying that they don't touch the house's books, and referring him to Captain Toms. Apparently, the two men aren't on close terms.  When Jane asks about the coastline possibly changing, Mr. Hastings discounts it.  He maintains that the local rock is granite and should change only very gradually.

To further cement Mr. Hastings' similarity to Mr. Withers, when Jane gets up to leave:
"He inclined his head gravely as he shook Jane's had, with a strange, archaic gesture that reminded her suddenly of Mr. Withers, when he left the Grey House.  But this, she thought, seemed more genuine, as if it were something which Mr. Withers had been trying to imitate."   
With that, she races back to the Grey House, and the chapter ends.  I expect next chapter we'll find out how the boys fared on the yacht, and they'll be hostile and/or unsupportive of her independent research.  I'm also torn between the vicar being on the side of the yacht-ers, and them being two competing sets of baddies.

New Characters:
Mr. Hawes-Mellor: Late vicar of Trewissick, wrote a now-hard-to-find book on the area.
Mr. Hastings: Current vicar of Trewissick, a suspicious character who doesn't maintain his house.

*Still Team Jane, but -5 points for writing in someone else's books.  At least it was pencil.

Monday, October 19, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone, Chapter 3

Chapter 3:
CN: Racist/colonialist imagery, sexism, bullying, abilist language

The chapter starts with the children exploring the attic. It's full of old furnishing and housewares and nautical items (a ship's wheel, rope, canvas).

“It was like reading the story of somebody's life, Jane thought, as she gazed at the tiny matchstick masts of the ship sailing motionless forever in the green glass bottle. All these things have been used once, had been part of every day in the house below. Someone had slept on the bed, anxiously watched the minutes on the clock, pounced joyfully on each magazine as it arrived. But all those people were long dead, or gone away, and now the oddments of their lives were piled up here, forgotten. She found herself feeling rather sad.”

That is some smashing prose. Five points to Gryffindor.

While Jane's getting introspective, Simon's characterization goes a bit off-balance (unless he's meant to be fickle). Within 6 lines we have Simon both complaining that “All the really interesting boxes are locked”, and--after Jane reminds him, regretfully, that they “aren't supposed to touch anything locked”--insisting that “There's a lot not locked”. I suppose these could both be true (many boxes are not locked, but all the interesting one are), but the emphasis and presentation make it come across as inconsistency. Or perhaps, he's deliberately changing opinions to mess with Jane.  

Barney complains of hunger, and they sit down to a picnic. We get some more (not at all) fun sexism/gender essentialism when Jane tries to get her brothers to wipe the dirt off their hands before eating. This time, it's from Barney, because apparently you can't only have one sexist male character:

“Barney!” Jane squeaked. “Wipe your hand. You'll eat all sorts of germs and get typhoid or—or rabies or something Here, have my handkerchief.”
“Rabies is mad dogs,” Barney said, looking with interest at the black finger-prints on his scone. “Anyway, Father says that people make too much fuss about germs. Oh all right, Jane, stop waving that silly thing at me I've got a proper handkerchief of my own. I don't know how girls ever blow their noses.”
He sat down, pulled out his handkerchief, waved it ostentatiously at Jane, wiped his hands, and began to munch another scone.

Well, that's a bit to unpack. We, once again, have Jane doing/suggesting something sensible (cleaning one's hands between a dirty activity and eating), and her brother acting like she's completely unreasonable. While the specifics are off (rabies), the idea is sound: they're covered in dust, and it could contain anything from pulverized lead paint, to arsenic leached out of old books or wallpaper, to mouse droppings containing germs or parasites. Soap and water would be more useful than a dry handkerchief, but no one's disputing the method, they're arguing over the need. Barney even invokes their father—who, we'll learn in a few pages, is a doctor—as an authority to silence Jane. Yes, a male character who previously seemed to be an ally is using a male authority figure to stifle and contradict our main female character. It's like it's written from life.

An alternative interpretation is that we supposed to be seeing a younger sibling resenting the interference of (/assumption of authority by) an elder, but the casting of Jane and Barney in the roles nonetheless evokes sexist silencing tactics.  It's also consistent with the "child mother" characterization previously suggested for Jane, which carries it's own sexist baggage.

Barney's apparently also the designated jerk in this chapter, so he proceeds to throw an apple core into the corner, as is standard practice when staying in someone else's house. Simon has moved on from imagining racist stereotypes of witch doctors and gaslighting his sister, to trying scare the others by talking about rats. This actually bolsters Jane's case that they shouldn't leave food garbage in someone's attic, and the two of them make Barney retrieve the core. While digging it out from a gap in the corner, he discovers an old scroll.

There's lots of speculation about the scroll: how old it is, what it says, what language it's written in, how it would up in the attic. Simon thinks it's a treasure map, Barney's sure it was lost rather than deliberately hidden, and Jane observes it's great age and asks the really useful questions, finally conjecturing that part of the scroll is written in Latin. Considering that Simon has studied it for two years and she hasn't started yet--I'm assuming this means he's two or more years ahead in school, though it could be that the boys and girl are on different tracks--more power to Jane for being the one to realize this (and for getting some revenge by goading Simon the Bully for a translation).

Anyway, they get Simon reading the first paragraph, and Barney uses his encyclopedic knowledge of the Round Table to conclude that “Marcus and Arturus” are Mark, King of Cornwall and Arthur, the High King. The boys immediately leap back to the treasure map hypothesis, and Jane spends the next page and half as the designated party-ender, trying to argue (without having a specific reason) that they should tell their parents of the find. This is the weakest writing in the chapter, in my opinion, possibly because I'm firmly 'Team Jane' and she's being made to argue a position without little reason to support it.  In fact, neither side seems to have concrete argument for why their option is right--the boys want an adventure and think adults will spoil it (believable enough), and Jane just has a feeling that they should tell adults.  There is, admittedly, some acknowledgement that they may be out-of-bounds and that the map isn't theirs (and thus, the adults would make them put it back).  Nonetheless, I wish Jane had been given the chance to argue that adults could be useful (preserving the delicate artifact, translating the words the kids can't read, using a larger knowledge-base to figure out what is being referenced, having the resources to investigate further), or that they deserved to know (it being Captain Tom's property, he may be interested in it and happy that it was found). 

You know who else would be a good person to talk with? The Great-Uncle who is a professor interested in antiquities, has made historic finds in the past, and knows the guy whose house they're in.

Anyway, Jane capitulates, on the basis that they can always put the scroll back later when they're done, and advises caution in handling this artifact of unknown age and apparently fragile condition. Simon continues to give her grief for it. [New headcanon: Jane grows up to become a archival curator specializing in document preservation and restoration.]

It's getting dark, so they leave the attic, and try to tidy up before dinner so they're parents won't ask questions. Jane is once again thrown into a motherly role of getting dust out of Barney's hair, so their real mother won't notice.

At dinner, their parents are in bad moods (attributed to the weather and to unsuccessful work), and there's a fair amount of sniping between them and their children, and among the kids themselves. After dinner, two unexpected guests arrive while Merry simultaneously vanishes. Mr. and Miss Withers, who met Dr. Drew earlier in the day, claim to live near the family in London, and invite them all to visit the mysterious yacht tomorrow. The invitation is accepted by the group, though individual members demure (Mrs. Drew to work on her painting if the light's good, Jane on account of her seasickness). While making small talk, the Witherses manage to throw in a number of peculiar inquiries about the Captain's books and whether the children have gone exploring and found secret passages in the house.

Nope, not suspicious at all.

Simon gets one more jerky exchange, trying to persuade Jane to come on the yacht and saying that “you must be nuts” when she continues to refuse. In a rare show of support, their father tells Simon to “Leave her alone...She knows her own mind. No, they'll understand, Jane. No-one would want you to be worried about getting ill. See how you feel about going in the morning, though.” Stuck the ending a bit, but I'll give Dr. Drew 4/5 for supporting Jane's opinions and acknowledging her expertise on the subject of herself. His sons could really do with some lessons on that score.

The chapter ends with an ominous note that Jane actually felt uncomfortable about the Witherses (with the seasickness as an excuse because she couldn't figure out why she felt that way), and a reminder that Uncle Merry had vanished again.  Possibly it's ominous foreshadowing that they're evil and want the manuscript for nefarious purposes.

Scratch that: they're definitely evil and want the manuscript for nefarious purposes.

New Characters:
Mr. Norman Withers—From the mysterious yacht, sells antiques in London.
Miss Polly Withers—Sister to Norman, several years older than the children
Vayne—Yacht skipper
Captain Toms—“The Captain” who owns the Grey House, master of Rufus the Dog

Updated Characters:
Jane Drew-- Hermione Granger
Dick Drew (Dad)--A Doctor, lives in Marylebone, London
Mrs. Drew (Mom)--Apparently likes rum babas.
Professor Lyon—Aka Great-Uncle Merry, aka “Gumerry”, somehow known to Mr. and Miss Withers but disappears when they show up.  Adding Houdini to his Gandalf/Indiana Jones dual class.

Barney Drew—Less a feminist ally than previously thought, rather untidy

Saturday, October 17, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone Chapter 2

 CN: Racist/colonialist imagery, abilism

We left off with the children speculating about Great-Uncle Merry's disappearance, and chapter two starts with his re-appearance during breakfast the next morning. He chats with Dad about the weather (even answers a question about it!), and again demonstrates his feigned 'deafness' by ignoring Barney's inquiry about where he was last night. The “family rule that they should never ask their mysterious great-uncle questions about himself” is revealed, as Simon and Jane shush Barney.

I'm seeing a divide being set in place, where Barney is given a child-like freedom from convention (asking questions that would be impertinent or simply 'not done' by adults, being free with his imagination) while Jane and Simon have crossed to the adult side and try to follow all the unwritten rules of interaction of the society around them while assigning normal explanations to what they see. That's not very elegantly put, I'm afraid. At any rate, this is a fantasy book, so it's fair to guess that Barney's fantastic ideas are nearer the truth than anyone else suspects. There will certainly be quests and King Arthur mythos before this is over, and “Gumerry” (Barney's old nickname for Great-Uncle Merry, which is a lot easier to type) will have a role to play. Ditto that yacht.

Despite the non-answer, Barney persists with his questions, taking advantage of everyone else's distraction ('Oh look, a storm!') to ask “Gumerry...did you find it, what you were looking for?” and gets an actual response “No, Barnabas, I didn't find it this time.”

The plot thickens. As does the weather. The kids are trapped inside by rain (Narnia parallel?), and their parents step out of the scene—Mom to work (painting, I assume) and Dad to visit the harbor master. After some puttering around, in which Jane looks over the books on hand, Simon makes paper airplanes, and Barney complains about the rain, they get onto the subject of explorers. Simon reveals knowledge of exploration and colonialism tropes, though he's a bit vague and/or wrong on some details, Barney asks some insightful questions (he comes across as much more mature than Simon in this scene), and Jane suggests exploring the house as a fun activity. The more she speaks, the more obvious it is that she's the trio's Hermione Granger: smart and practical. Her and Barney put together the idea of having 'provisions' on the journey, and get Mrs. Palk to provide them with some scones, cake, and lemonade for an indoor picnic. Simon eventually joins in the game, making himself “captain of the expedition”.

Meanwhile , Barney picks up that the locals (Mrs. Palk, Mr. Penhallow) seem to have a long history with Gumerry, aka “the Professor.”

The kids explore the house, making up cannibals and natives and golden treasures (lots of racist stereotypes invoked in the process). Simon is quite big on the colonialist stereotypes and takes the lead (ie, bosses the other kids around). Barney challenges him somewhat. Jane keeps getting to be the grey-raincloud/voice-of-reason, despite the trip being her idea in the first place. She reminds them not to interrupt Mom, that they aren't supposed to mess with locked things, that the telescope case isn't theirs to play with (but obeys Simon by re-phrasing it as part of the adventure: they're on land! with landmarks! they don't need a telescope!), and so on. Nonetheless, she continues displaying her intelligence and observation skills: noticing that one bedroom resembles a ship cabin and figuring that it belongs to the Captain, deducing the existence of a passageway to the attic. Barney helps a bit there in both cases, and it seems like the hierarchy for useful conclusions is Jane (intelligence, observation) > Barney (imagination, curiosity) > Simon (some knowledge and a bit full of himself, but will go along with the others' ideas).

They all end up cooperating to shift the wardrobe (Narnia parallel!) in the boys' bedroom, revealing a door behind it. The door leads to a dusty ladder to the attic, which the children climb as the chapter ends.


It feels odd note that for no one (read: Jane, designated mature party) to remark that the attic is possibly out-of-bounds for them. We're told, by their mother, that everything they should stay out of has been locked up, but nonetheless not to snoop through any clearly personal papers/belongings. While the attic isn't locked, per se, I think being blocked by a heavy piece of furniture demonstrates a similar intent, and is worth a least a discussion. On the other hand, Jane got to take the lead in figuring out where the secret door was and didn't have to be the stick-in-the-mud. Yay! May this trend continue.

Friday, October 16, 2015

Over Sea, Under Stone: Chapter 1

Content Note: Bullying/gaslighting, sexism, minor physical injuries

The story begins with a family waiting at a train station in Cornwall. And by family, I mean our three child protagonists and their parents. Yes, there are parents, living ones even, present in a children's fantasy adventure story.

The children's relative ages are not established in the first chapter, but they seem to sort out with Simon as the eldest, Jane in the middle, and Barney as the youngest (I'm not sure if I'm remembering this from past readings or just guessing from their behavior). Barney shows a childlike enthusiasm which trumps social niceties: he's full of questions, and quick to voice his thoughts. Simon takes a superior tone throughout: he likes to show off his knowledge, even if it's not always strictly accurate, and is quick to judge other people. He's also rather quick to bully Jane, but is slightly protective of her as well. In my mind, he's Peter Pevensie without a sympathetic author fawning over him: trying to act like an adult, or at least use his age to lord over his siblings, but insecure and still falling into childish habits. Jane, despite being the (apparent) main focus of our third person narrator, tends to fade into the background during conversations. She shares some of Barney's enthusiasm (for the dog, for instance), and some of Simon's more conventional politeness to strangers, and seems to be the designated observant character. She notices the yacht, and Great-Uncle Merry's strange reaction to it; she has the idea to check the stray dog's tag for it's name and residence. She's also the one to “encounter” apparently-evil-flunkie Bill Hoover, and both defends herself to him and tries to diffuse the situation when Simon starts spoiling for a fight. But she speaks a bit less than the boys, and doesn't expect to be taken seriously by them--though it doesn't stop her from trying. I'm reading it as 'the middle-child used to being overlooked', though it could just as easily be 'the girl used to being ignored'.

Anyway, we open with the five family members, having arrived in Cornwall for a summer vacation, waiting for the Great-Uncle who is supposed to pick them up. We learn, over the first few pages, that Barney and Jane are fond of dogs and that Mom and Dad are less fond of the enthusiasm thus displayed (there could be some interesting backstory there). Mom apparently paints, and has been to Trewissick village before. Dad has brought fishing equipment along. The kids all known how to swim, and everyone's apparently fond of boats, except Jane, who is prone to motion sickness.

Middle child who gets sick on trains and boats? I am Jane...

Great Uncle Merry arrives at the station in a very beat-up car which he has apparently rented, reveals that the dog Jane and Barney like is with him (goes with the house he rented), and takes them all into the village. We learn that the family will be staying in the rented house for 4 weeks, and that Merry is the Worst. Houseguest. Ever. He apparently shows up without warning, leaves without saying goodbye, and trails along reporters in his wake. Why the reporters? He's Indiana Jones: when not teaching at a University or crashing his friend-called-niece's house, he goes around finding lost fortresses, valleys, and viking ships.

Fun as a character, he sounds incredibly obnoxious in real life. In addition to being completely inconsiderate, he apparently can't or won't answer even the most innocuous of questions, like 'Do those people you waved to know you?' or 'Why is it called the grey house?'*. Instead, he evades or ignores questions, and the family has a rule against asking where he's been. Such as, when he vanishes without warning right after they arrive and doesn't appear again until the next day.** It makes one wonder why Dad had such implicit trust that this guy would pick them up from the train station. It's given that Merry said he would, so perhaps the issue is that he always keeps his word and that's why he doesn't say anything directly. You can't hold him to a promise he hasn't made.

In fact, I'm going to head-canon that: Merry's rude and inconsiderate because he's bound to follow through on all statements, and thus can only preserve freedom to act and react by not talking about anything.

They reach the house, and the kids go exploring in the village before supper. Simon also notes the yacht that's been seen several times know (he is apparently as much a boat aficionado as Barney is a King Arthur fan), and takes the opportunity to start taunting Jane about ocean voyages in small boats. Barney sort-of berates him for this, but in a way that makes Jane feel defensive. I completely sympathize with her demanding that he stop teasing (motion sickness sucks), and in choosing to leave when he doesn't.

Simon grinned wickedly. “Smashing. Great big waves picking you up and bringing you down swoosh...and the deck going up and down, up and down--”
“You'll make her sick,” Barney said calmly.
“Rubbish. On dry land, out here in the sun?”
“Yes, you will, she looks a bit green already. Look.”
“I don't.”
“Oh yes you do. I can't think you weren't ill in the train like you usually are. Just think of those waves in the Atlantic, and the mast swaying about, and nobody with an appetite for breakfast except me...”
“Oh shut up, I'm not going to listen”--and poor Jane turned and ran...”
“Girls!” Simon said cheerfully.

Yeah, I don't like Simon this time around. He's a sexist bully, and I really hope his character development involves not being one anymore. That would be an excellent direction for him to grow in. Ideally in the next couple of pages.

So Jane runs away from the brothers who are teasing and defending her in ways that make her uncomfortable; in fact, she runs right into a bicyclist who also isn't looking. He blames her, she blames him, and he's very rude when she (who got knocked down and is bleeding) tries to help pick up his spilled cargo. Simon and Barney arrive, and Simon immediately takes issue with the unnamed boy. Jane tries to diffuse the situation and the boy leaves with a “--off, the lot of e'e”.  Jane, her knee still bleeding, physically restrains Simon from following, while the boy goes down to a dinghy and sets off, inconsiderately hitting several boats in the process.

This attracts the attention of an old fisherman, who gives some redundant local exposition: the boy is Bill Hoover, and he's clumsy and “evil-tempered”. Simon explains what happened, taking the blame for the accident on himself (“It was my fault, really, I made her run into him...”) but without ever apologizing to Jane, and while centering his own experience: Bill was rude to Jane and had the nerve to leave before Simon could hit him for it. [I completely skipped a whole earlier exchange in which Simon gaslights Jane at the train station—maybe the author was trying for childish bickering: “I can smell the sea!” “We're miles from the sea.”, but it came across as Simon needing to be right all the time and trying to make it so by stomping on Jane's enthusiasm and doubting her experiences. I expect more of this, unfortunately.]

The fisherman answers several of Barney's questions about Trewissick, the boats and fishing, and I can see that Barney's inquisitive nature will be a ready source of background information. There's some more patronizing of Jane (“take your little sister home and wash that leg”), and Bill-the-Bad-Bicyclist is seen boarding the yacht that caught everyone's attention earlier. According to the fisherman, Mr. Penhallow, Bill has been buying supplies and being secretive about why; he deduces that the boy is delivering them to the yacht.

Back home, Great Uncle Merry has vanished. Father is unconcerned, Barney imagines he's on a quest which may take years, and Simon reveals that Merry likes to look at old tombs in churches, while complaining about Merry not telling them why he left. I sort of agree with Simon here. Not that everyone's entitled to know Merry's private affairs, but that making plans with people and then ditching them without a word is rude. 'I have some things to do' would suffice, perhaps with a 'and will be back in the morning'.

Anyway, I read Simon here as a petulant child who's nonetheless trying to be practical/“adult” while contradicting Barney's fantastic/romantic imaginings. This rings pretty true for my experience as a 10-11-12-13-year-old, so I'm mentally putting Simon and Jane in that age range, with Barney just barely behind. Jane chimes in with a bland “I expect he'll be back in the morning”, which reminds me of Ana Mardoll's remarks on Susan Pevensie trying to 'sound like mother'. Of course, Jane's mother is at the dinner table with her, but I see some parallels here nonetheless. Jane's modeling her speech on adult platitudes in general, and specifically on her parents' trust in Merry. In other circumstances, an adult stepping out without explanation would be more likely resolved with a speedy return than a multi-year quest. It is more realistic to assume, in such cases, that the person will be back, and even if he's not, speaking hopes or wishes as certainties is something that adults do for reassurance. Given the subject's tendency to disappear for weeks or months without notice, Barney's fantasies are perhaps less far-fetched in this situation than they would be in others. Nonetheless, Mom and Dad trust Merry to return, and Jane is following their example by expressing confidence in him. I suppose I see Barney responding as a child by voicing his fears (Merry won't come back) and wishes (because of a quest) as facts, while Simon and Jane are trying to respond as adults with more mundane hopes and doubts.

Mrs. Palk, the cook/housekeeper is introduced—she looks like another good source of local lore, and a potential route to the kids' having space for adventure (mom and dad leave them with housekeeper, housekeeper wants them out of the way while she works, freedom to have adventures ensues). The chapter ends with Jane observing the mysterious yacht leaving Trewissick harbor. That makes five mentions in 16 pages, so it's safe to say that the yacht will be figuring into the plot more than just about anything else.

So far, I'm pleasantly surprised that we're breaking some youth fantasy expectations: Jane stands up for herself (somewhat) and expresses opinions, Mom and Dad are alive and active in the story, our protagonists are flawed and might not get a free pass from the author. At the same time, the fact that I don't remember them existing indicates that the parents will be completely extraneous to the plot and/or quickly removed from the scene. Also, Jane's characterization is woefully lacking compared to the boys. They not only get to say more (and thus show more personality), but they also have outside interests which (mild spoiler) will be relevant to the developing plot. Jane is not given any such hobbies as of yet.

The Cast So Far and What We Know of Them:

Barnabas “Barney” Drew—(Youngest?) Inquisitive, imaginative, loves dogs, knows tons about King Arthur, adventurous, seems fairly perceptive about people and his surroundings.

Simon Drew—(Oldest?) Bossy know-it-all, loves ships, tries to act like an adult, bullies his little sister, responds violently to other kids but can be respectful towards adults, doesn't get motion sick. A cross between Peter Pevensie and Peter Wiggin.

Jane Drew—(Middle?) Observant, reserved, gets motion sick, loves dogs, will stand up for herself but gives up because it's ineffective. Went back to the house for a handkerchief—Bilbo Baggins?

Mom—Paints, has known Merry for a long time but is not actually his niece.

Dad—Fishes, trusts Merry for unknown reasons.

Great Uncle Merry—Simultaneously Gandalf and Indiana Jones. Hat status unknown. Worst Guest Ever, and so far not a very promising host.

Mrs. Palk—Makes Cornish pasties

Bill Hoover—Bit of a jerk. 

Mr. Penhallow—Expository fisherman, seems to have some questions/thoughts on the Grey House and Merry, but doesn't voice them.

*“The Grey House?” Simon said. “Is that what it's called? Why?”
“Wait and see.”

Not spoiler: It's a dark-grey house with a grey-blue arch and a grey slate roof. Why Merry couldn't answer the kid's question without evasion is left as an exercise to the reader. My preferred explanation for the house's name is that “the Captain” who owns it is actually a novel-traveling Christian Grey, doing penance for his awful behavior in the romance genre by playing minor characters in a childrens' books. I conjure the Internet, by it's true name, to make this so.


**This actually is revealed on the first page of chapter 2, sorry for skipping ahead slightly.