Thursday, October 31, 2019

Cart and Cwidder (Dalemark Quartet, Book 1) by Diana Wynne Jones

Title: Cart and Cwidder, Dalemark Quartet, Book 1
Author: Diana Wynne Jones
Publication: Greenwillow, hardcover, 1975
Genre: Children’s Fantasy
Plot: Clennen, his wife Lenina, and their three children are traveling musicians, and among the few who move between the North and South regions of Dalemark. His parents deliver messages and gossipy news as they travel and sometimes take passengers with them. There are political overtones: the South is more restrictive and “[y]ou dared not put a good, or a word, out of place for fear of being clapped in jail.” Red-headed Moril may be a dreamer but he knows better than to sing seditious songs on his cwidder (a sort of lute) in the wrong part of Dalemark. When Clennen tells the family they are bringing Kialan, a youth about Moril’s age, with them to the North, his children resent the arrogant boy, who sneers at them and brings violence into their lives. When tragedy strikes, it is up to the overlooked Moril, as well as his older brother Dagner, and his feisty sister Brid to stand up for themselves, which also means accepting annoying Kialan and work together to survive.

My Impressions: The first DWJ I brought home from the library (probably in the early 80s) was The Ogre Downstairs, and everyone in the family enjoyed it before it went back to the library. I continued to read her books whenever I had the chance. Much later, when I worked at Avon/Morrow, I ordered myself a copy of every backlist title. Turns out I own a nice first edition American copy of Cart and Cwidder that I had never had time to read. Inspired by Lory from The Emerald City Book Review, I took it with me to the gym the other night and got yelled at by some guy when I was distracted reading between sets and didn’t lift weights fast enough for him. “It’s not a library!” he scolded me. Oh, please!
As with many of DWJ’s books, the main character is thoughtful and quirky, unassuming but with the capacity to rise to the occasion when necessary. Music has dominated the family’s life and it is Moril’s inspired playing of his father’s cwidder that saves the day. Jones’ skill is her ability to mingle humor and tragedy, fantasy and realism effortlessly, without losing her plot (I did think she was hard on the mother in this story). There are also plenty of villains and an overall sense of foreboding that made up for the lack of magic, other than the cwidder.  While not as memorable or multidimensional as the Charmed Life series, I look forward to reading more about Dalemark.

There's going to be a Cart and Cwidder discussion over at Calmgrove where there are lots of DWJ fans later this week.

Off the Blog: Nationals win the World Series!  

Source: Personal copy

1 comment:

Chris Lovegrove said...

"Jones’ skill is her ability to mingle humor and tragedy, fantasy and realism effortlessly, without losing her plot." I absolutely agree, Constance, this distills her skills in one sentence as well as any I've seen. And I'm also reminded by your review that DWJ, like many an author, installs a bit of herself in the action: she too was, like Moril, a redhead, and her mother was indeed quite distant as Moril’s was. Thanks so much for joining in the conversation and for your link to here, I shall now respond to your lovely comment!

Chris