Dark Waters of Hagwood | Chapter 15

Warning: Contains Spoilers!

‘Down there she dwells,’ the Tower Lubber breathed. ‘My beautiful Clarisant, the one and only love of my life. Alone in the caves and caverns, sitting out these despairing, sundered years in the dark, far from the spying eyes of her sister’s agents.’

 

Aufwader’s Thoughts: This kind of thing is what makes a Robin Jarvis book a Robin Jarvis book. ‘Once upon a time, a beautiful princess and brave knight where cursed by an evil queen’ is all very well, but it’s the details that give this oft-repeated staple of legend a new heartstring-plucking pull. The yellow flower and the little bullfinch who delivers it. The melancholy melody rising up from the depths. The long, long years.

I’ve always loved Robin’s favourite ‘fair is foul and foul is fair’ motif, but it really shows here, with one of the most tragic couples in the canon. The way he redefines storytelling concepts that we think we know, like nobility and beauty, is what makes the world of Hagwood so special.

In this world, the blind and grotesque goblin hermit is really a deeply lonely and sad lover, whose care for his feathered companions is the only thing that gets him through the endless days away from his beloved. In turn, the mad old crone who rules a subterranean empire is really a lost princess, slowly sinking into the dark waters of her own mind. It’s not enough that Clarisant and Tammedor have been separated for three hundred years, we also have the possibility that they might never get the chance to be reunited. I’m already weeping and we’re not even at the end of the second book.

Matt’s Thoughts: In lesser hands, this would have been a fairly interesting piece of back history. Because after this chapter, we now understand the Lubber, we understand Meg, we see how everything fits together and have a glimmer of how Rhiannon might be stopped.

But it’s the overwhelming sense of tragedy that pervades here in the details that makes this memorable: A love that can only be communicated by a dropped flower and a returned song. The idea that Clarisant might have gone insane down in the deep.

Maybe it’s because there is an irreversibility to these proceedings. Even if Rhiannon is stopped – and she clearly needs to be – it’s doubtful that there will be a simple return to the way things were in the past.

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Dark Waters of Hagwood | Chapter 14

Warning: Contains Spoilers!

No one who is so beloved by so many living things could be evil, thought Liffidia.

Aufwader’s Thoughts: I’ve speculated jokingly before that Hagwood is one of the lands beyond the thirteen hills of Mooncaster, and I think this chapter was where that idea originally came from. There is a mention of distant ‘verdant hills’, and the Tower Lubber really is the kind of being who would’ve been oppressed by the Dawn Prince, but to be honest I’m rather glad that theory carries little to no weight, because the poor Lubber has enough to worry about as is.

I really love the heartfelt, fairytale-like simplicity of the Lubber in his lonely tower, blind and languishing under a curse, yet noble still. It seems that every small pocket of Hagwood carries its own tale, and ‘The Lubber and His Children’ is my favourite yet.

Matt’s Thoughts: The Tower Lubber might just be one of the nicest characters that Mr Jarvis has ever created. He reminds me a bit of Thomas Triton in that he’s a loner with a tragic past, but he’s also completely different. If you can get past the grossness of the wooden pegs, the tower and its collection of birds is wondrous.

Dark Waters of Hagwood | Chapter 13

Warning: Contains Spoilers!

‘And then, My Lady,’ he said grimly, ‘your reign must end. By the lives of everyone who has ever suffered and died at your command—I, Gamaliel Tumpin, swear to do my very best to destroy you.’

Aufwader’s Thoughts: A wonderfully atmospheric chapter with the showdown at the Crone’s Maw. When a villain reveals their true identity in a Robin Jarvis book, it’s always a show worth watching, but Rhiannon goes above and beyond in her dramatic transformation. I do feel a little sorry for the spriggans (they were just following orders, after all) but I feel worse for Grimditch, who actually had the presence of mind to resist the High Lady before he was finally brought low.

Now Gamaliel must struggle on alone, and it’s a dark, watery road.

Matt’s Thoughts: Another case in point why you don’t want to lose the illustrations from Jarvis books. In the text, the Crone’s Maw is described as being a crack in a cliff where a waterfall gushes out. In the illustration, it has a face. 

But my favourite invention in this chapter is blood moths. Most kids, when they are little, get a bit wary of moths. But we just get told by our parents that they’re harmless, they don’t bite, etc.

So having moths that drink blood is another classic Jarvis way of bringing childhood fears to life …

Dark Waters of Hagwood | Chapter 12

Warning: Contains Spoilers!

Their grotesque faces were blank masks of death, and they stole toward the unsuspecting werling with open jaws and outstretched arms.

Aufwader’s Thoughts: The illustration for this chapter is, I think, one of the scariest Robin has ever drawn. The only other header I can think of that gave me such a fright is the grinning skull of Galatea from The Fatal Strand, and that seems positively tame in comparison to the emaciated, leering monstrosity featured here. No wonder Grimditch tells Gamaliel to use his eyes only to find the next foothold away from that thing!

Speaking of, it’s rather touching the way Gamaliel seems to be bonding with the bogle. Too often, heroes make life difficult for themselves by shunning all help and companionship even when it’s repeatedly offered. It looks as if Gamaliel has a bit more sense, however, realising that though this may be his quest, he can’t go it alone. I just hope Grimditch is what he seems. After nearly two years of Robin Jarvis canon, I’m inclined to see spies everywhere…

Matt’s Thoughts: There’s something of the joy of the original Deptford series in this book – joy, I’m aware, being a relative word. But between creepy undead characters, a tragic death and the rising heroism of Grimditch, all the elements are there.

Even Captain Grittle and his men, with their incompetent way of confounding their mistresses’ plans, are somewhat endearing. If only because we suspect they’re going to cop it from Rhiannon eventually.

Dark Waters of Hagwood | Chapter 11

Warning: Contains Spoilers!

‘Grimditch’s friends,’ he said in a voice cracked with sorrow. ‘Them were his little pals. They wouldn’t really have wormicated and bit him, no they wouldn’t—not they, not never.’ And two tears rolled down his hairy face.

Aufwader’s Thoughts: Rereading this chapter, I was reminded of the little video that Robin did for Open Road Media when this book came out, in particular the part where he describes readers being surprised by a sudden character death. I can’t recall if he mentioned it later, but I’m about 99% sure he was actually referring specifically to Yoori Mattock’s demise. Oh no, the barrow wights are horrifying! Oh no, he died! But we’re only halfway through, there’s hope for Mr Mattock yet!

Matt’s Thoughts: Mr Jarvis often does his own thing, but this is one of the first chapters I’ve come across in the last year and a half, where I felt he was borrowing deliberately in homage.

The scene I’m thinking of, of course, is from The Fellowship of the Ring where the hobbits end up amongst the barrow-wights, spectres that inhabit the burial mounds of long-dead royalty. (Obviously, only if you read the book! This was one of the sections that was cut from the movie.)

I’ll go on record, though, as saying I like Robin’s take on this much better. Watching Yoori Mattock transform into a rabbit and dig Gamaliel out was a high point of werling heroism in this story so far – which is probably why he got killed off at the end of the chapter. He can escape killer tree-roots and thorn ogres and then gets taken out by a large rock?? There are times when I do think Robin randomly draws characters out of a hat and whichever name appears is the next one up to die somehow…

Dark Waters of Hagwood | Chapter 10

Warning: Contains Spoilers!

The spectre reached up a glimmering hand, and the ghastly light flooded Bufus’s mournful face.

Aufwader’s Thoughts: See this is what sets a good storyteller apart from a great one – unpredictability, peril with no clear solution, and above all, emotional weight.

It’s not enough for Bufus to have squandered the magic of the Pool of the Dead to talk to his brother, he has to have a solid, serious reason for acting as he does. Instead of being a selfish blunder, the act then becomes the culmination of a deeply important piece of character growth which has been a full book in the making.

Bufus’s trauma stems from Mufus’s murder at the claws of the thorn ogres, back in Book 1. In that book, the main conflict starts from there and just keeps going, so Bufus has had no time to adjust or properly grieve between then and this chapter, and we as readers haven’t had time to consider how he might be coping.

His reaction to this distress has been, we now see, to shut down emotionally and come to the conclusion that the only option left to him is suicide. This is really, really heartbreaking for us readers, since we’ve got to know the Doolan brothers and have already suffered through one of them dying a horrific death. So the misuse of the the Pool of the Dead carries an additional, more personal, emotional heft, along with the larger prospect of everyone being doomed.

Thank goodness for those birds!

Matt’s Thoughts: If there’s one thing I love about the Jarvis Canon is that, even when he is dealing with tropes that are familiar from other genres, there are always surprises along the way. For instance, we’ve had all these chapters building us up to the Pool of the Dead, so of course we assume there will be an Important Plot Point where the shade of the Wandering Smith explains how to destroy Rhiannon.

Instead, Bufus has a chat with his departed brother, Mufus. (I did not remember that scene!) Which on one hand is going to delay any chance of taking down Rhiannon but on the other hand is incredibly moving. It’s little beats like this that give these characters weight.

And also, assuming these birds are friends not foe, it’s a nice nod to The Hobbit that our friends get rescued by birds when things are at their most dire.

Dark Waters of Hagwood | Chapter 9

Warning: Contains Spoilers!

The gray weathered stones towered above him. This was a silent, solemn place, built thousands of years ago by a half-forgotten people who understood the power of the earth and the magic locked within hills and stones, trees and rivers.

Aufwader’s Thoughts: I find it so interesting how this series links itself to ancient English heritage and history without ever actually saying ‘this is ancient English heritage and history.’ (I mean, it could be Scottish, since we have a lot of ‘Dooit’ stones up here and the Caledonian Forest would be a pretty solid candidate for Hagwood, but I’m betting that Mr Jarvis was probably calling on his own experience, which as far as I’m aware is more of merrie olde Englande.) I love the mystery of the world beyond the werlings’ grasp; the idea that there’s a whole vast landscape out there, peoples and places beyond the forest of which we readers will never hear, but we know they’re there, and, just possibly, that they are connected to our own past.

As for Rhiannon’s little shobble and mooty, I have to say I’m quite taken. I’m not sure why, but she never made as much of an impression on me in Thorn Ogres as some of Robin’s other villains from that era. She has more than made up for that in this book, however, with her blindings and her murderings, her intrigue and her espionage. I love how she even thought to dress for her grand entrance in that sparkly black number – no tacky tweed or mouldy velvet for this Queen of Witches, she’ll crush all who oppose her in style.

Matt’s Thoughts: So Rhiannon reveals herself at last and the danger ramps up. The mention of the Dooit stones is really interesting because it does just reinforce the idea that this could be a remote corner of England somewhere. But in the current day? A long time ago?

But my personal favourite thing about this chapter was watching Liffidia and Tollychook face down Rhiannon and tell her exactly what they thought of her.

Given that every other character that interacts with her in the Hollow Hill grovels and crawls and flatters, to hear Liffidia call her an ‘ugly, ugly, foul hag!’ is exhilarating. Whether it was the best move strategically remains to be seen!