Author: Juliet Marillier
Publisher: TOR
Publishing Date: June 2002
Binding: Mass Market Paperback
Cover Artist: John Jude Palencar
Son of the Shadows is the second book in Juliet Marillier’s widely acclaimed Sevenwaters trilogy through it can, like its predecessor Daughter of the Forest, be read independently. Where Daughter of the Forest was a story that played out on a rather intimate scale, Marillier broadens the scope significantly with its sequel by letting the political positions among the early medieval Irish chieftains playing a larger role in the plot of the novel. Furthermore, she expands the magic element by suggesting that a major conflict is brewing between the supernatural peoples of the Otherworld, between the Fair Folk (the Tuatha Dé Danann) and the Old Ones (the Fomhóire). Daughter of the Forest was beautifully written and emotionally satisfying novel and I am glad to say that Marillier doesn’t disappoint with Son of the Shadows – a novel that deservedly won the 2001 Aurealis Award for Fantasy Novel.
Son of the Shadows is the story of Sorcha’s children, in particular that of her youngest daughter Liadan, who has inherited many of her mother’s gifts- for nurturing, healing and magic. Liadan, her twin Sean and her sister Niamh have grown to adult in the sylvan idyll of Sevenwaters, which has neigh forgotten the evils perpetrated by the sorceress Oonagh and returned to a both harmonious and peaceful existence. Yet the ills of the past have not been completely banished and the actions of Sorcha and her husband have cast longer shadows than anyone realizes. The lady Oonagh was never brought to justice and one of Sorcha’s brothers could not be completely restored to the world of men and is thus doomed to exist in the margins between the human world and the Otherworld. Despite this life has generally been good for Sorcha and her family. Good times, however, seldom last and as Liadan and her siblings enters adulthood on old evil begins to stir, and it seems as if it has designs for the children of Sevenwaters. This time, the burden of saving her family falls to Liadan as she embarks on a journey that requires all her compassion, love and determination. She must face some very hard choices, both for herself and for her family, but where there’s love there’s hope…
Once again Marillier employs a first person narrative to create a deeply engaging portrayal of the story’s heroine. Like her mother, Liadan is a woman of quite strength and great compassion. She has an amazing capacity for love, trust and compassion and it is these qualities that constantly guide her actions as opposed to the more strategic and political decisions of her peers. Liadan is a healer, a nurturer and teller of tales – she’s the true heart of Sevenwaters, the one who keeps the family together through strife, division and loss. One of the things that I really loved about this book is the way in which Marillier takes these rather intimate qualities traditionally associated with the private sphere of the home and uses them as a foundation for a character-driven narrative. I also love the fact that Marillier has chosen to create a heroine who is strong and capable, not in the kick-ass fashion that has become so popular, but rather in an understated and more realistic womanly manner. This kind of female protagonist, coupled with the intimate first person narrative, facilitates a focus on aspects of feminine experience, like childbirth and motherhood, which generally are absent from the mainstream of fantasy.
Like the previous book, Son of the Shadows portrays the supernatural or magical elements to the story in a subtle yet insistent manner:
The woods were alive with little sounds: the rustle of squirrels in the undergrowth, the song of the thrush overhead, and stranger voices, too, subtle whispers in the air, whose words I could not comprehend. If there was a message in it, it could scarcely be for me. I sat very still and thought perhaps I could see them: faint, ethereal shapes passing between the branches, a scrap of floating veil, a wing transparent and fragile as a dragonfly’s, hair that was shining filaments of gold and silver. Perhaps a slender hand, beckoning. And a bell-like laughter. The sun must have been making me foolish for now there was nothing.
There was someone there. Down between the rowans, a flash of blue, gone again as quickly as it had appeared. Had I heard footsteps on the soft path? I got up, basket over my arm, and followed quietly. The track led down the hillside toward the sheltered pool, curving under the trees and between thick chumps of bushes. I did not call out. There was no telling if what I had seen was merely a trick of the light on the dark foliage or something more. And I had learned to move through the woods in silence. It is an essential skill for self-preservation, Father said. There it was again, just ahead of me behind the rowans, a hint of blue like a fold of cloth, and a flash of white, a long, delicate hand. This time the gesture was unmistakable. This way, it motioned. Come this way. I went on softly down the path.
Niamh would never believe, later, that I had not come there on purpose to find out her secret.
It is the quite meddling of both the Fair Folk and the Old Ones, the magical races of Ireland’s mythological past, that sets the plot into motion, yet Marillier skilfully balances these subtle, supernatural promptings with actions that are consistent with character and the often tangled and murky paths of human emotion. It’s a very delicate balance to maintain but Marillier never falters as she slowly broadens the supernatural storyline. We thus learn that the family of Sevenwaters has a special role as guardians of the forest, which is one of the last refuges of the Fair Folk as they retreat ever farther away from mankind and the onslaught of Christianity. There are, however, other forces in play, one of them an evil who seeks to destroy the Sevenwaters clan and its guardianship. The sorceress Oonagh from Daughter of the Forest was but one tool of this evil, which has begun to stir again. The nature of this supernatural threat is never fully revealed; rather Marillier subtly lets a sense of menace manifest itself through familial discord in the household of Sevenwaters. In this respect, Son of the Shadows is as much a piece of fiction about the psychological dynamics in a family where secrets fester and trust is broken as it is a fantasy about good versus evil.
Son of the Shadows is also a story about the unforeseeable consequences of actions, however well-intentioned they are, and of people burdened by their heritage, of people who are forced to pay for the misdeeds of their elders. Thus characters like Liadan’s lover Bran, her suitor Eamonn and the young druid Ciàran all end up reaping the evils of a “tainted” heritage. They are, in a very real sense, living under the shadows of the past, becoming outsiders through no fault of their own. This theme of marginality is perhaps most hauntingly illustrated by the character of Finbar, the brother who wasn’t entirely transformed back into a man and therefore is doomed to walk the margins between the human world and the Otherworld, neither belonging to the one of the other.
Son of the Shadows is every bit as good as its predecessor, if not better. Marillier has not only broadened the scope of her story, she has also deepened the world considerably by incorporating a wealth of Celtic folklore. She deftly weaves a selection of old folk tales into her story as it fits the demands of the narrative. These are stories of both inspiration and comfort, for those wounded in body or spirit. Ultimately, Marillier’s novel is a testament to the power of story-telling, both for the characters in the story and for the reader herself. Written in the exquisite and lyrical prose that characterizes her style, Marillier has crafted a beautiful and poignant novel of great emotional power. Juliet Marillier is an extremely talented writer and she comes highly recommended.
Trine D. Paulsen
