DWJ Reread: Cart & Cwidder
The first time I read Cart and Cwidder was nine years ago, and I hadn’t reread it since. I guess I had always thought of the Dalemark books as stories I wouldn’t revisit, because they seemed so different from Diana Wynne Jones’ other works, and were so very high fantasy, whereas the other books all (as far as I can remember) have some sort of connection to our world. That had been my impression, back then - that the books were enjoyable, but not really “my type”. So I hadn’t read this book in nine years, and during those nine years I had thought that a cwidder is an actual thing that exists. It was only when I was looking it up for this reread, and read other reviews, that I realised that it was probably made up. Oh.
(I've always thought it’s something like a mandolin - like some sort of a European version of it, maybe. But then it turned out that it didn’t exist. I can’t believe it took me so long to realise!)
This book is the first of DWJ’s Dalemark Quartet, and I kind of wasn’t into the series as a whole. Don’t get me wrong - I still enjoyed them a lot and thought they were good, but I usually wouldn’t remember them when thinking of Diana Wynne Jones’ books, and if it wasn’t for this reread project, I don’t think I would have reread them at all. Which was a shame, because I ended up loving Cart and Cwidder a whole lot more in my reread.
I guess the main thing about the Dalemark books was that they’re as far away from the typical DWJ book as you can get. At least, I remember thinking that, and it’s true enough in a way - even starting out, I felt that the tone was a lot more serious than in the last few books I’d read, and it was set in an entirely different world, complete with political unrest and description of sedition laws that could be compared to that of my country now. The parents in the story weren’t neglectful in an abusive sort of way, but the story did eventually reveal them to have secret lives, and through the story they sort of unravel into these unreliable characters. And there, so I found it to be a very DWJ book after all.
The story started in the South of Dalemark, where Moril and his family were setting up to perform a show. Moril was described as a dreamy sort, who was always off in another world, although he hated it when he was accused of that. It immediately went into explaining - or rather, telling about - the war between the South and the North, and how the North was free but in the South, one could easily get arrested for saying - or singing, in their case - the wrong thing. Clennen, Moril’s father, was careful not to sing “dangerous” songs while in the South, which Moril didn’t like, because as someone identifying with the North, he believed that people should have the freedom to sing whatever they liked.
Further into the story the children ended up on their own, and Moril inherited a cwidder that could call upon magical powers - and in order to learn to use this power, he had to see all of himself, and accept it. He also would come to see his “dreaminess” as an important part of him, and it wasn’t that he was dreaming, exactly, but that he saw/thought more, or something like that. The whole bit about being in two places at once - or being in a dream and in the world at the same time, also reminded me of the real/not-real instances in Fire and Hemlock and Eight Days of Luke that I loved. Also, and I’m going off-topic here, when it turned out that Moril was really listening to conversations that was happening while he was supposed to spaced out, or that he saw things in an analytical kind of way, it reminded me of the stories I’ve heard about Nino (of Arashi) who would be playing video games during meetings and yet could repeat whatever’s going on word for word. And the way he supposedly never properly rehearsed and yet get things right anyway. I’d like to have some of that ability. Anyway, back to the book - Moril discovered that the cwidder worked with the truth as he learned to use it, but he also learned that there are different kinds of truth near the end, when he used its power for something he thought he shouldn’t have. “If you stood up and told the truth in the wrong way, it was not true any longer, though it might be as powerful as ever.” I thought that it tied in well with the importance of truth-telling that was emphasised in so much of DWJ’s work, and it made me rethink all the truths and lies told, and secrets kept by all the characters.
Speaking of the characters, I loved Moril and his family and Kialan. Moril reminded me of Cat Chant somehow (why, I don’t exactly know) and I liked how he grew into himself as the story went, and how the way he saw himself and the world changed. Kialan, the “mysterious” passenger, reminded me of Christopher Chant, and I spent much of the book trying to remember if Moril and Kialan ever came to understand each other and hoping that they would. I liked the parents, flawed as they were - or rather, because of their flaws. I liked Brid and Dagner and I loved how the siblings related to each other, being very different sort of people and caring about each other despite that.
When I was just starting on my reread of this book I told my friend Daphne that I expected to fall in love with it, despite what I’ve said about not being into the series as much as DWJ’s other work. And I did. Because I love everything by Diana Wynne Jones. Now I’m thinking of this review of Cart and Cwidder/Drowned Ammet that said ‘everything I say this week should be prefaced by “I love Diana Wynne Jones and”‘ - well, that’s how I feel now. And I think that’s how I feel throughout this reread project, and every time I read anything of hers, or read anything about her.
Note: I have a tendency to rant (which is obvious if you’ve been reading this blog long enough) when I like a book too much, and may not make much sense. I may make even less sense talking about this book, I’m not sure, but the gist of it is I was revisiting a book I thought I liked but didn’t like that much, and then it turned out that I did like it that much, and am now confused as to why I didn’t think I liked it that much way back when. Sorry if it confuses you as much as it confuses me. (That, and the fact that I switch tenses a lot when I go into rant mode, and don’t always catch it when I reread my posts :p) The Power of Three should be next. It’s one of my favourites, and I can’t wait to get started!
Other Reviews:
Calmgrove | Here There Be Books | Readers By Night | Reading the End | Reading Matters
- crossposted from Weebly & Wordpress
DWJ RE-READ no.05 | this book was first published in 1975
previous book: Eight Days of Luke
next book: Dogsbody