2018/72: Fire and Hemlock -- Diana Wynne Jones

"if I were to tell you what they were in That House, you’d laugh and not believe me. Nowadays they lay it on the men not to tell, you know.” [p. 306]

Reread: I hadn't read this for a long time, but remembered a surprising amount of detail, from Polly's doubled memories to her removal of the opal necklace that's supposed to protect her from malefic forces.

Polly is about to return to university when a stray thought unravels the realisation that she's forgotten a very important part of her life. For several years, as an adolescent, she had an intense relationship with the cellist Thomas Lynn. Strange things happened while they were together, almost as though the stories they told one another were somehow coming true. Then, Polly seems to remember, she did something awful ...

Fire and Hemlock is Diana Wynne Jones' treatment of the stories of Tam Lin and Thomas the Rhymer -- pretty young men stolen away by the Queen of Faerie. It's also a story about the making of a female hero, Polly: and it has uncomfortable undertones of grooming. Thomas Lynn, the young musician who's doomed to be the next tithe to hell, moulds Polly into the kind of person who might be able to rescue him: he does this by telling her stories, sending her books, and generally encouraging her to be self-reliant and courageous.

Without Mr Lynn, Polly's life might be very bleak. Her parents are separated: her father is feckless, her mother paranoid. Only Granny -- her father's mother -- provides any kind of stability ... especially after Polly's memories are amended by Laurel, who, if not the actual Queen of Elfland, is certainly a powerful supernatural force. Polly forgets Tom, and Laurel: but Laurel does not forget Polly.

This time around I found myself rather more sympathetic towards Laurel. She does merely what is in her nature. And to a greater or lesser extent she is as trapped by her story as Thomas is. It's hard to be sure what she is keeping at bay: Jones never makes clear the fate that awaits Tom, or the origin of the powers that Laurel wields. But, despite her power, she is not omnipotent: and her 'chilly logic' binds her as much as it binds her victims.

After reading this I watched the 1970 film The Devil's Widow, also a reworking of the Tam Lin story: this one is set in the late 1960s and features Ava Gardner as the older woman, and Ian McShane as her latest prey. It's an odd film (as you can tell just by looking at the poster) and not wholly successful, but very atmospheric: I do wonder whether Diana Wynne Jones ever saw it.

There are so many layers to this book: I wonder what I'll notice next time around? (And will it be in nine years' time?)