Runemarks

I would be the last person to suggest that a children or a young adult book ought to have a dogmatic, overriding moral principle – I always advocate reading widely, and with one’s eyes open – but I feel as though a small measure of morality might have improved Joanne Harris’s first young adult novel, Runemarks. It is set in the world of Norse mythology, with a lively illustration of the Nine Worlds before the table of contents; granted, the old Norse are not marked by their concern for modern Protestant values, but they too had an honor code, and at the least, consequences.

Maddy Smith, a fourteen-year-old born with a rune, Aesk, in her palm, becomes involved in the lives of the gods through her fellow rune-marked friend and instructor One-Eye. (Hmm, which god is that one? Maybe…Odin?) During a venture to the World Below, Maddy meets Loki, a trickster, and the most sympathetic and morally ambiguous character. Through the course of the adventure, the shallow, bickering Sleepers (lesser gods) are wakened, the villagers from Maddy’s town are shown to be mostly shallow and cowardly, and the mysterious new religion called the Order – which is really the use of magic disguised as asceticism – gains power against the old gods. However, everyone’s motivations, particularly Maddy’s, are as vague as which of the nine worlds the action is actually occurring.

For instance [spoilers], Loki and Maddy descend to Hel, and thence to Dream, in order to (knowingly? unknowingly?) fulfill a prophecy given by the Whisperer. However, Loki, who belives he is the trickster mentioned in the prophecy, is actually the sacrifice; the trickster is the Whisperer, who is also the mysterious source of the Order. Supposedly he is working on world domination, but this is never clear. What also is unclear is the reason Maddy trusts One-Eye, and then Loki, and then the Whisperer, carefully doing what they say even when she suspects duplicity. Her own initiative usually includes sneaking behind someone’s back.  Also, Loki tries to betray Maddy several times but can’t seem able to, nor is she bothered by this when his trickery is uncovered. And although the two of them tear up the lower worlds with a giant snake, everything ends up being fine, with no one really punished. Oh, and Maddy is a god, too. Surprise, surprise.

What this book needs is a tighter rein on the changing points of view, a sympathetic and most importantly dynamic main character (readers never have cause to doubt Maddy’s ultimate success), and clearer motivations and consequences for the many mistakes and actions of the enormous cast of secondary characters. It would also benefit from a sort of textual self-consciousness – a book that understands that it isn’t really real, and has a sense of humor about it, too. My call is not for Protestant morality (e.g. thou shalt not lie), but it is for some sense of right and wrong with ramifications (e.g thou shalt not lie without discovery and punishment).

I’m sorry, Ms. Harris. You just aren’t Terry Pratchett. Maddy Smith does not and will never equal Tiffany Aching.