Title: Fire and Hemlock
Author: Dianna Wynne Jones
Published: New York: Firebird, 2012 (1985)
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 438
Total Page Count: 161,649
Text Number: 472
Read Because: discussed by![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rushthatspeaks, among others; ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: When Polly meets Thomas Lynn at a funeral, she sparks an odd relationship which will change her life. I adore books about books, and this turns out to be one—pointedly, about using books not to rewrite or escape reality, but to create and understand it, with the reader's identity remaining paramount within their own life. Polly's story is sad and charming in equal turns, and makes full use of Jones's ability to live in liminal space, with the fantastic creeping and crashing in to normal life. It also has an undercurrent of the strange—Lynn as an adult, courting Polly's attentions as a ten year old girl—which is easy to dismiss for the sake of the narrative but which the book's ending brings to the forefront, forcing the reader to reinterpret all that has come before. The ending—not the climax but the very brief coda—is brave and bold and slightly flawed, because while it allows Jones to do much it does it inscrutably and swiftly. Most of Fire and Hemlock is made literal and explained; the ending is left to the reader to decipher, and that shouldn't be necessary in a book with an otherwise flawless balance of readability and thematic depth.
Otherwise: phenomenal. I've never clicked with Diana Wynne Jones—she has a vast and whimsical creativity which creates great setpieces and themes but leaves the plot piecemeal. Fire and Hemlock exhibits a level of intent I haven't found in her work before. It's still whimsical, liminal, a loving story about stories. It's also a nuanced and sympathetic examination of broken homes and self-made homes. And it's about the potential and perils of creating yourself around someone; about the need to acknowledge and function within reality. It's about being liberated by the very thing that breaks your heart. It is, simply, one of the better books I've ever encountered.
Author: Dianna Wynne Jones
Published: New York: Firebird, 2012 (1985)
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 438
Total Page Count: 161,649
Text Number: 472
Read Because: discussed by
rushthatspeaks, among others; ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County LibraryReview: When Polly meets Thomas Lynn at a funeral, she sparks an odd relationship which will change her life. I adore books about books, and this turns out to be one—pointedly, about using books not to rewrite or escape reality, but to create and understand it, with the reader's identity remaining paramount within their own life. Polly's story is sad and charming in equal turns, and makes full use of Jones's ability to live in liminal space, with the fantastic creeping and crashing in to normal life. It also has an undercurrent of the strange—Lynn as an adult, courting Polly's attentions as a ten year old girl—which is easy to dismiss for the sake of the narrative but which the book's ending brings to the forefront, forcing the reader to reinterpret all that has come before. The ending—not the climax but the very brief coda—is brave and bold and slightly flawed, because while it allows Jones to do much it does it inscrutably and swiftly. Most of Fire and Hemlock is made literal and explained; the ending is left to the reader to decipher, and that shouldn't be necessary in a book with an otherwise flawless balance of readability and thematic depth.
Otherwise: phenomenal. I've never clicked with Diana Wynne Jones—she has a vast and whimsical creativity which creates great setpieces and themes but leaves the plot piecemeal. Fire and Hemlock exhibits a level of intent I haven't found in her work before. It's still whimsical, liminal, a loving story about stories. It's also a nuanced and sympathetic examination of broken homes and self-made homes. And it's about the potential and perils of creating yourself around someone; about the need to acknowledge and function within reality. It's about being liberated by the very thing that breaks your heart. It is, simply, one of the better books I've ever encountered.
