Apart from its first volume, Dragonborn, being longlisted for the Carnegie Medal in 2012, the UK publication on Toby Forward's Flaxfield Quartet seems to have sneaked under the radar in terms of high profile recognition. It is now being published in the US, as the Dragonborn Quartet. The first two books, Dragonborn and Fireborn are already out, Doubleborn is due in Feb. 2015 and presumably the last, Starborn, will follow. I sincerely hope that this outing will bring it the attention and appreciation it deserves because it is very possibly the greatest work of children's fantasy so far written this century.
Perhaps one of the reasons that it has not yet made a bigger impact is that it is not an altogether easy read for children. Like many great works of literature it requires work and commitment to begin to unpeel its many layers, subtleties and complexities. As a quartet, of course, it is also relatively long but does need to be read in its entirety; it is a classic example of a whole being more than the sum of its parts. Those children who can read it though, and I know many do have that needed sophistication and sensitivity, will find it an enormously enriching and life enhancing experience.
This is mature, refined writing, concentrated in both language and content. That is to say it is deceptively simple; a maximum of thought and feeling conveyed in a minimum of words.
Toby Forward sets down a marker in the very opening of the first book:
'Flaxfield died on a Friday which was a shame, because he always ate a trout for dinner on a Friday, and it was his favourite.'
In essence this is the heart of the book and the paradigm of its writing style. The language is often terse and enigmatic, most particularly the dialogue. Direct speech is sometimes not specifically attributed. Different speakers follow their own thought lines and do not necessarily respond directly to questions asked or statements just made. What is presented is often an essence of dialogue, reflecting thoughts and feelings as much as communication. Questions are often answered with questions, but then, in this world, that is the wizards' way.
Similarly the author often does not directly explain situations or actions, but leaves the reader to infer what is happening. It is a writing style reminiscent of other great but demanding works. It put me in mind of Alan Garner, in, say, The Owl Service, or The Stone Book Quartet, and even more of Ursula le Guin in the wonderful Earthsea sequels, Tehanu and The Other Wind. It is fine writing, but not easy. This is further complicated by frequent shifts of narrative perspective and jumps in time, backwards as well as forwards, that are not always explicitly telegraphed, leaving the reader again to do the work.
However the positive of all of this is continually to add layer upon layer of richness, complexity of both character and narrative, over considerable time, and gradually to build up recognition and understanding for the reader. Sometimes the same stories iterate, told in different contexts or by different characters, but each time adding new perspectives on the complex world Toby Forward has created.
This is in many ways a classic magical fantasy, a world of wizards and their apprentices (yes, there a quite a few of each, although not all of the same generation), of dragons, of a university of magic (though not remotely like Hogwarts) and of the growing threat of an unspeakably perverted magic. Yet within this framework the author reimagines a whole original world and creates a completely new and credible mythology of what magic is, how it began, how it becomes perverted and abused and how it can be redeemed and renewed. It is a staggering achievement.
The first book follows very much from its opening statement and explores primarily how Flaxfield's apprentice Sam deals with the consequences of his master's death and the escalation of evil that this allows.
The second volume is essentially one long flashback and tells, amongst other things, the story of Bee whose apprenticeship to a different wizard precipitates the act of horrendous wrong that corrupts magic and releases its negative 'wild' form into the world. However she herself is not responsible in any way and, in fact, the consequences for her are amongst the most shattering and moving in the whole work. This is the volume too in which Flaxfield himself features, together with an earlier apprentice nicknamed Cabbage, for, or course, these events precede the older wizard's death.
Yet this is emphatically volume two in reading sequence and not a prequel or volume one written out of order. Already knowing what will happen as a consequence is a powerful element in the reading of this sequence. Presenting narrative information in this retrospective way is a significant feature of how Toby Forward so cleverly and gradually builds up layers of understanding in relation to the complex mythology he is creating.
Two other strong elements are also very notable in this volume. One is the author's ability to build up horror. Although his imaginative creation of hideous evil creatures, the kravvins and takkabakks, is genuinely dreadful, it is his use of swarms of beetles to represent the spread of the evil magic that truly makes the skin creep and remains long in the mind. I am sure many readers will never be able to look at these creatures in quite the same way again.
The other strong feature is the quiet but pervasive sense of humour that permeates the books. This is not Terry Pratchett; it is completely other. Yet it is a welcome relief from the intensity of the writing to sometimes unearth its quiet, even childish, jokes. For example the apprentice Cabbage is too embarrassed to ever explain his nickname - and with good reason.
Through all these books Toby Forward has added another dimension, quite literally, to his landscape, the 'Deep World' with its diminutive inhabitants 'roffles'. Owing much to legends and stories found in many places, these small folk clearly relate to the 'hidden people' or 'little people' and, indeed, share this origin with hobbits. Like all this author's creations though they are reimagined in an entertainingly unique way. And it is a roffle, Tadpole, who centrally features in this final volume. Tadpole is and represents the innocent, the child; he just wants to visits 'up top' for long enough to see the stars. Yet, although no hobbit, he does share something of the sprit of the Frodo who says, 'I will take the ring, but I do not know the way.' It is he who leads this complex story to a devastating conclusion that is no conclusion at all.
Sophisticated readers in pre and early teens will lap up this magnificent fantasy quartet. But it has much to offer others too. Flaxfield is a late quartet: Beethoven, Janacek, Faure. It is fiction for the elderly as well as for the young; for the 13-year-old with greying hair. It draws on many precursors, but is completely itself. It has many themes. It treats with death, and life. It is about heritage and the responsibility for passing it on. It is about being chosen to do things, not doing what we choose. It is about monumental conflict and the terrible cost of victory. It is about hope and the future. It is humane and wise. It is enthralling. It is lyrical. It is sometimes heartrending, but always beautiful. It is ultimately consoling. It is magical. It is a masterpiece.
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