I just found out that British author Mary Stewart died a few days ago.
Three writers defined my introduction to ‘grown-up’ writing when I was around ten or eleven years old: J.R.R. Tolkien, Andre Norton, and Mary Stewart.
By ‘grown-up’, I don’t really mean the kinds of ultra-explicit adult fare I often read and write now. In the mid-seventies, at least in my small town, kids were firmly corralled in the kids’ section of our local public library, and any attempt to break away from sanctioned children’s books was met with disapproval.
My mother, who had almost as big a book collection as the library, saw no point in outright censorship unless she was actively scheming to make me read something. She may have subtly vetted my reading choices, but generally gave me free rein in her own collection, offering warnings, explanations, or condolences as necessary.
The day she decided I’d earned the right to read Mary Stewart’s The Crystal Cave (the start of a still-powerful Arthurian series) was a proud moment for me.
While Tolkien and Norton might be considered YA today, back then their books were a leap ahead for me. Same with Stewart, whose gothic romances and historical fantasies pulled me into new worlds of historical romance and adventure (just when I was hitting the age when romance stopped being an icky stupid idea, and more of a wistful riff on my preteen isolation and hopeless crushes.)
I re-read Stewart’s novels today, noting where she left indelible traces on my own writing.
As a romance novelist, she ranked well with more-prolific competitors like Phyllis A. Whitney and Eleanor Hibbert. Her female protagonists seemed real and interesting, more capable than the gothic genre’s standard handwringing maidens. Stewart’s male love interests were always smoldering hot, but possessed of depth and nuance that made them strong matches for their women. Of course, her romances are generally now considered ‘sweet’ – there’s usually little more on-screen sex than some heavy kissing, but nothing gets glossed over, either.
As a historical fantasy author, she created one of the most iconic portraits of Merlin that I have ever read: not a mysterious sorcerer, but a clever young man dragged into the power struggles that define his age. She also predated J.K. Rowling’s authorial angst-fests by decades. Stewart realized well into her Arthurian series that her Mordred was as much a victim as Arthur…but couldn’t by then change the course of her written and published internal history.
Wry humor punctuated most of Stewart’s stories, not the staged and strained comedy of later chick-lit novels, but subtle irony, exasperation, and affectionate jokes inviting the reader to share the moment.
Stewart’s writing taught me to pay attention to dialog, to the interplay of voice and information, and how verbal exchanges could serve several levels of storytelling at once.
Stewart showed me how real characters could be caught up in events, how they manipulated outcomes (or failed), and how they weathered aftermaths of joy and grief.
More than anything else, Stewart was a champion of setting. Her paragraphs may seem long and dense to some modern readers, but her writing brilliantly evokes a sense of time and place. When I read Stewart’s novels I can ‘see’ the Greek islands and Crete, ancient valleys above Damascus, the countrysides, cities, and mansions of 1960’s France, Switzerland, and Austria, and the ageless moors of Scotland. Stewart was a clear enough reader and researcher, that her books can seem like time machine windows into other eras.
Rest in Peace, Lady Stewart.
Her Wiki entry: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Stewart_(novelist)
A detailed fan site: http://www.marystewartnovels.com/
I had not heard about this great lady’s passing. I inhaled many of her books when I was young, astounded by her take on the Arthurian legends and her poetic imagery. I shared your interest in those three authors, I think Ms. Norton wrote some the first sci-fi books that I fell in love with and I scoured the libraries trying to find more of her works. Thank you for the lovely tribute.
You are welcome, ELF. Now I think I need to go read ‘The Moonspinners’ or ‘Nine Coaches Waiting’ again. I don’t think I can handle the Merlin books in a re-read right now, though – too personal.
Thank you for this. I hadn’t known she’d passed away. I loved Mary Stewart’s novels and cut my teeth on them as a twelve-year-old. Like you, I borrowed the books from my mother. The settings…that’s what I remember.
I know, Evelyn! To this day, I can still smell rosemary in sunlight, and think of ‘The Moonspinners’. Or see any archaeological news from south Wales, and think of young Merlin on the path up to the hermit’s cave. Her setting details were so solid and visceral, they stay with a reader for decades.
God, I only wish I could write like that.