I came to Diana Wynne Jones's work in a roundabout way. Already a fan of Hayao Miyazaki's movies when Howl's Moving Castle came out, I was surprised to find that someone else's book lay behind the story, since Miyazaki has a way of owning everything he uses - his style and vision are so engulfing. The book was so, well, magical, that I went on to read three more of her novels.
Now we have a collection of essays and various other pieces by Jones, Reflections On the Magic of Writing, that, even for a casual reader of her work like me, not only exposes the influences and thinking behind her own writing, but solidifies her place among major 20th-century English writers of fiction.
Neil Gaiman contributes a heartfelt introduction, but his star power fades swiftly when Jones takes the stage and reveals her approach to writing children's literature, a method like that of a research psychologist:
From my window I can see a steep stretch of woodland ... I have watched it for five years now.
It is full of children who appear to be mad. A group of girls totter down the slope. ... anyone
who watches this wood, or anywhere else where children habitually play, will quite soon notice
a number of things, all of which ought to have great importance for anyone who is interested in
writing for children.
But Jones doesn't analyze: she embraces. She writes about Tolkien, Narnia, learning to read Anglo-Saxon, and a favorite of mine, the somewhat obscure but startlingly brilliant poet Mervyn Peake. She takes each in her arms as one would a child one adores, but without sentimentality or stooping to hero-worship.
What sets this book apart from all other posthumous essay collections is that it shines - these are no leftovers, or some last scraping at sales by a publisher. This collection sparkles, it crackles, it burns with life like the fiery burning bush that not only burns without consuming, but provides a place for the voice of the divine.
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