Pam's Book Log

15 December, 2002

Based on an admittedly small sample size of two, Caroline Stevermer has a knack for writing books which frustrate me in a very specific way. That is, both of the books I've read by her start out as very well-written, interesting tales about the education of a young person. Then, events transpire which interrupt the education process, and send the protagonist out in the world on some exciting adventure or other, which takes up most or all the rest of the novel. Both parts of the plot are well-written and fun to read, but I have ended up somewhat dissatisfied because the beginning-of-education part was so good that I wanted to keep reading it, rather than switching over to galavanting about doing Important Things. Obviously, the fact that this bothers me is a personal foible, and should not be taken as a general criticism of her books.

When the King Comes Home is the story of Hail Rossamer's education and subsequent adventures. She's a wool-merchant's daughter who undertakes an apprenticeship with a well-known artist. The action takes place in the fictional European country of Aravis, in what I guess to be the late 1700s. The entire country of Aravis has a cultural obsession the the late King Julian. Julian died on foreign soil some 200 years before the events of this novel, and the citizens of Aravis have numerous sayings about all manner of good things and miracles which will occur "when the King comes home." Well, one day he does, having been raised from the dead by necromancy, and it leads to all sorts of problems. For one thing, nobody ever asked King Julian how he felt about being resurrected.

I didn't find the transition from education plot to adventure plot as jarring in this one as in A College of Magics, because Hail maintains her fervent interest in art throughout the book, and works hard to further her education in that direction, even in the middle of the adventure. (It helps that the works of Hail's favorite old-time artist are central to the adventure, and she has ample opportunity to study them, and learn about the man himself.) Also, she goes back to her studies after the adventure ends.

That last bit is not really a spoiler; the novel is narrated by Hail fifty years after the events of the central story, so the reader knows from the beginning that she will survive and go on to an artistic career. This framing device imbues the novel with a rather melancholy air. Young Hail is full of enthusiasm, energy, and dreams about the future, whereas Old Hail constantly makes remarks like this:

I am not too old to travel home to Neven, even yet. That day will come, but I could still make a journey of moderate length, given a proper escort andsufficient preparation. I don't choose to visit there, though I have no doubt my brothers' families would welcome me. I'd rather remember it as it was, a clean and quiet town.... Stands of the great old trees were cut even in my youth, sent down the river tied in rafts to feed the shipwrights of Shene. Since then, I'm told, the forests have been much reduced. (I don't wish to see it now.) Neven was always a sleepy place, and I prefer the city. Aravis itself can seem sadly quiet to me now.

and this:

When I first learned to grind pigment for Madame Carriera, I fretted to make the brilliant colors. Vermillion, orpiment, ultramarine-- to me the very sounds of their names held magic. But her old-fashioned methods won out... Eventually, I learned to find merit in the subtler colors-- ocher, umber, staniel...

and this:

I have been happy to work as much as I can and to stay out of trouble, but it grows harder by the year... Aravis remained strong, but the outlying regions fell away. Haydock, Cenedwine, and Galazon broke away. Soon there was nothing to show there had ever been an empire except the size of the taxes we pay.
Aravis itself is strong, but the cost of its strength has been some of its beauty. No longer do we have a rivalry of patrons who vie to commission new art and sponsor fresh entertainments. Now we have mend and make do, somber clothes, and long faces. The world's all ocher and no orpiment.
Sometimes I think I should travel, see what's beyond Aravis. Go to Vienna, perhaps. Then I think, no. I have traveled quite enough... What I am, I carry with me. Things would look no different in Vienna if I went there with a discontented heart.

It's sad, when you think about it, how the vivacious Young Hail who was so passionate about art developed into such a dull, tired, person. However, her sentiments echo the general Aravisian notion that everything was better, back when Good King Julian and Wise Queen Andred ruled, and the only way things could become good again would be for the past to return. Of course, the events of the book thoroughly disprove that mythical notion. The return of the King signifies very little, on the grand scale of things.