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.

4 comments:

  1. "Yes, there are parents, living ones even, present in a children's fantasy adventure story."

    Even more than that, they have first names. And careers!

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  2. It doesn't count if they end up dying in the first few chapters. We'll see what happens. >_> (yes, I'm cynical)

    Although their death would probably be memorable, so, they might actually live in this one.

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  3. I think it's the latter, but it has been several years... Good luck to the elder Drews.

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  4. I think it's the latter, but it has been several years... Good luck to the elder Drews.

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