pangolin20: An image of a pangolin. (Keys to the Kingdom)
[personal profile] pangolin20 posting in [community profile] i_read_what

Chapter One (Part II) | Table of Contents | Chapter Three (Part I)



Hello everyone! It’s time to get back to Mister Monday. But not with me, but with Corneille Blanche.

*Corneille Blanche appears; they look roughly human. They’re wearing an almost life-like toucan mask, a long yellow robe, yellow gloves, wide yellow pants, and yellow shoes*

Scales: Are you ready?

Corneille Blanche: As ready as can be. This series isn’t that bad, isn’t it?

Scales: Oh, it shouldn’t be at all. Plus, you can always ask me for help. Good luck!

Corneille Blanche: Thank you!

This chapter opens with Arthur, who’s survived last chapter’s ending. “[T]wenty-four hours” later, he’s still in the hospital. He’s alive, at least. He’s been unconscious for most of the time, and he’s “still [feeling] dazed and confused.” He breathes better now, but “the doctors want[] to keep him in for a few more days because of his history.” That is certainly fair.

“Fortunately”, his mother is “a very important medical researcher who work[s] for the government”, which means that “the whole family [has] the best medical insurance”, and “doctors all around the country [know] Dr Emily Penhaligon and her work.” Arthur “always [gets] good treatment and [is] kept in the hospital even when they [make] other sicker people leave.” Hmmm. I do not know enough to say something definite about this, but I don’t exactly like it. I can see where the government comes from; they don’t want to lose her, after all. Still, it depends on whether other people get less care because of this, and that isn’t said… I don’t know.

Arthur “usually [feels] bad about that later” (not like he can do much about that), but when he’s actually there, he’s usually to sick to think on it.

We are told his father is a “musician”. A very good one, but “not always a very commercially minded one”, as he “[writes] brilliant songs and then for[gets] to do anything with them.” Ah, that can happen to anyone. He was “guitar player in a famous band called The Ratz thirty-five years ago”, and people still recognise him sometimes. I’d guess he’s at least fifty-five by now, then. Given the name of the band, I’d think it was active in the 1970s and/or 1980s. I am more inclined to the latter, because there will be some futuristic elements in this book. He was called “Plague Rat” back in the day. I assume that the other band members had similar monikers, not that we find out what those are, though I don’t think any of them was called “Raised Rat”, for instance.

Anyway, he has dropped the moniker long ago, and now goes by his original name, “Robert ‘Bob’ Penhaligon.” He still gets money from his time in that bad, as he’s written most of the songs, “some of which [are] multiplatinum sellers.” I looked that up, and assuming the story is set in Australia, that means the songs sold at least 140000 units. The songs are still often played on “some radio stations”, and new bands take samples from them, “particularly Bob’s guitar parts.”

Nowadays, Bob cares for the family and “noodle[s] away on one of his three pianos or one of his twelve guitars”. An impressive collection, though it would be easy for Bob to get those, of course. Emily “[spends] more time than she want[s] to in her laboratory doing things with DNA that benefit[] the whole human race but [take] her away from her own family.” Those things will be of importance later on, by the way.

We’re told Arthur has six siblings. The three oldest, “two boys and a girl”, come from “Bob’s liaisons with three different women when he was on tour with The Ratz.” Hmmm. I wonder how long those liaisons lasted that he got custody of the children afterward… The fourth child comes from Emily’s first marriage, and the next two are “Bob and Emily’s”.

And then there is Arthur. “He was adopted.” His “birth parents” were “doctors who worked with Emily.” They have died “in the last really big influenza epidemic, the one that ha[s] finally been controlled by a new anti-flu drug they’[ve] helped to discover—as part of Emily’s team.”

That’s quite sad. At least she could care for their child and give Arthur a good childhood… Also, this is the first indication that this series is set in a different world than the one it was written in, as such an epidemic has not, to my knowledge, occurred in Scales’s world. And as we will see, it will be slightly futuristic, too.

Arthur was “a week old” when his parents died. He obviously survived the flu, “but he [is] probably an asthmatic because of it.” He didn’t have “immediate family” apart from his parents, so Emily and Bob could successfully adopt him.

Arthur says “[i]t [doesn’t] worry him that he [is] adopted.” Still, “every now and then” he leaves through “the photo album that [is] almost all he [has] to remember his birth parents.” Of course you do; I’d bet that Emily leaves through it too from time to time. The other thing he has is “a short video from their wedding, which he [finds] almost unbearable to watch.” They were killed by the influenza plague “only eighteen months later”, and they look “ridiculously young” to Arthur. He likes that he looks more like his birth parents as he gets older, “in different ways. So they live[] on in him.” Oh, this is all such good exposition!

We are told that he’s know he’s adopted “since he was little.” Good on Bob and Emily for doing so! They also treat everyone the same way, and “the children” consider themselves siblings. Ooh, that’s quite nice. They never “introduce one another as ‘half-brother’ or ‘half-sister’”, and they never explain why there’s twenty years between the oldest, Erazmuz, who was “born in Bob’s rock music heyday”, and the youngest one, Arthur. Well, I can certainly see Erazmuz was born in the seventies/eighties, given his name. They also don’t “explain the difference in looks, skin colour, or anything else. They [are] simply all part of the family, even if only the youngest three [are] still at home.”

All this certainly sounds great, and I love how they define their own family. Anyway, we now get a somewhat closer look at the children:

Erazmuz, the oldest, “[is] a major in the army and his children of his own”. He’ll show up later on, by the way.

Staria, who is “a serious theatre actress”.

Eminor (yes, he was certainly born while Bob was in a band), “a musician, who’[s] changed his name to Patrick”. Yes, I think that was a good move.

Suzanne, “who is at uni.” We will not see these last three, unfortunately.

Then there are the three kids at home:

Michaeli, “who [is] at a local art school”.

Eric, “who [is] in his last year of high school”.

And Arthur. We will see Eric and Michaeli, if you’re wondering.

We are told Bob, Michaeli and Eric have already seen him the night before, and Emily came along early in the morning to see if he was okay. Once she was certain he was, she lectured him on better “look[ing] like a total loser in everyone’s eyes” than being dead. Well, I have to agree. Arthur says he always knows when Emily approaches, because “doctors and nurses” will appear from everywhere, and when she arrives, “eight or nine white-coated people” will trail behind her. He’s used to “her being a Medical Legend”, like he’s used to Bob being “a Former Musical Legend.”

Now we are back with the plot. As all of his family in town has already visited, he’s surprised when two extra people come to see him “early on Tuesday afternoon.” They’re “[c]hildren his own age.” He takes a second to recognise them, because they don’t wear black, but then he realises they’re Ed “and the girl who ha[s] helped him use the inhaler.” Now they’re wearing their school uniforms, “white shirts, grey trousers, blue ties.” There’s another point for the theory that this story is set in Australia, because a search shows me that school uniforms are quite common there.

The girl asks if they can come in. Arthur mumbles “sure”, while wondering what they might want. The girl says they “didn’t meet properly yesterday”, and introduces herself as “Leaf”. Arthur understands it as “Leith”, because “she[] pronounce[s] it strangely.” She “reluctantly” clarifies that she’s called “Leaf, as in from a tree.” Not that bad a name, to be honest. She explains that her parents changed their names “to reflect their commitment to the environment.” I’ve got no problem with her parents doing so, but they should have thought better before naming their children like this.

Ed explains that their father calls himself “Tree”, and he’s supposed to be “Branch”, but he’d rather be called Ed. Okay, “Branch” is a very awful name to give someone. Why only names that refer to parts of trees, anyway? I’d like to see some cool animal or plant names. And, come to think of it, we will not see what Leaf’s mother is named.

Missing Puzzle Pieces: 5

Neither of her parents will be quite relevant, but still. Arthur repeats their names, and relates that his dad “used to be called Plague Rat.” Leaf and Ed immediately recognise him from The Ratz, and are quite excited over it. Arthur confirms this, and is surprised, because “[n]ormally only old people [know] the names of the individual members of The Ratz.” And how old are those people exactly, Arthur…? Because I think there might be a mismatch between our definitions of “old”. Leaf explains that they’re “into music” (but I don’t think into mainstream music). She looks at her school uniform, and says that that’s why they were wearing “real clothes” the day before. I feel you there, Leaf. There was a “lunch time appearance by Zeus Suit at the mall” and they didn’t want to “look stupid”.

Ed says they missed it anyway, because of Arthur. Arthur smells trouble and asks what Ed means. He says he’s “really grateful” to them before Leaf cuts him off. She says it’s okay, and explains that Ed means they missed the appearance because they had “something more important” to do after they, which she soon corrects to “after she herself”, “saw those two weird guys and the wheelchair thing.” Uh-oh…

Arthur immediately asks about this, and he tells us he’s “managed to convince himself that he’[s] flipped out and imagined everything”, but he hasn’t tried to test out by looking for the notebook. His shirt hangs in the closet. Leaf says that they were “really weird”. She saw them appear in “a flash of light” and then disappear the same way just before they reached Arthur. It was “mighty strange”, but no one else noticed them. She thinks it’s “because [she’s] got second sight from [her] great-great-grandmother”, who was “an Irish witch”. I don’t think we ever get an explanation about this, and frankly, I’m content without one.

Ed continues the story. He says that the family member was Irish in any case, and that he didn’t see what Leaf saw. They did come back for a “look around”. After some five minutes, “these guys” came out of the park and started yelling at them to go away. Ed describes them as “plenty weird”. Leaf breaks in to describe them as “[k]ind of dog-faced, with jowly cheeks and mean-looking little eyes like bloodhounds”. They had “really foul breath” and could only say “go away”. Unsettling, to say the least.

Ed adds that they “kept sniffing”. He even saw one of them get on the ground and sniff it while they were walking away. There were “at least a dozen” of them, and they were wearing “kind of Charlie Chaplin suit and bowler hats.” They found them “[w]eird and scary”, so they left, and Ed reported them for “trespassing on the school grounds”, and “the Octopus” came to check. Only he couldn’t see the beings, though Ed and Leaf still could, and Ed got “a week’s detention for “wasting valuable time””. Leaf adds she only got “three days’ detention”. Seems like an ideal school to go to.

Arthur asks who “The Octopus” is, and Ed answers that it’s “Assistant Principal Doyle”, and he’s called that because “he likes to confiscate stuff”. Leaf asks Arthur what’s going on, and who the two people were who he saw. Arthur is appropriately mystified, saying he doesn’t know and shaking his head. He says he thought it “was all a hallucination.” Ed says that maybe it was, only then both Arthur and Leaf had it. Leaf punches him in the arm at that remark, at which Ed winces. Arthur thinks this marks them as “[d]efinitely brother and sister”. I didn’t know that was a sign of siblinghood… Then again, it might just be Arthur.

Ed quickly says that his theory doesn’t explain why Doyle couldn’t see “the guys with the bowler hats”, while rubbing his arm. He says that’s unless the three of them were “affected by something like a gas or weird pollen.” Unfortunately, that theory has more holes in it than a sieve…

Arthur says that there should be a notebook in his shirt in the closet if it wasn’t a hallucination. Leaf opens the closet, but hesitates. Arthur tells her to go on. After all, he only wore it for “a couple of hours” and he barely ran in it. Leaf clarifies that she isn’t worried about the smell, as she reaches in and feels the pocket. She says that if the notebook is there, then she has seen something, and the “dog-faced guys” were scary, even with Ed there…

She stops talking and pulls back her hand. She’s holding the notebook tightly. So there really is something supernatural going on. Exciting! Arthur notes Leaf has “black nail polish on, with red streaks”, like Bob used to have as Plague Rat. She makes to give the book to Arthur, and she whispers that it feels strange, and “[k]ind of electric. Tingly.” Ed asks what the cover says, and Leaf doesn’t know. We get a bit of her perspective. There’s symbols on the cover, but they don’t make sense. We’re told “[s]he [doesn’t] seem able to focus on them somehow.” Where have we seen that earlier…? Simultaneously, she feels a “strong urge” to give it to Arthur. She does so, saying it’s his.

Arthur takes it, and says that it actually fell out of the sky, or rather, it came out of some kind of whirlwind of letters that “swirl[ed] in the air.” Arthur has a look at the notebook now. It has a hard cover, and it’s bound in “green cloth that remind[s] him of old library books.” He can see that there’s “type embossed on the cover. Golden letters that slowly [swim] into focus and rearrange[] themselves.” He blinks several times “as the letters climb[] over one another and shove[] others out of the way to make room so the words [can] be spelled properly.” That’s definitely magic. I don’t know why the letters have to do this, though. If there’s not enough room on the cover, couldn’t they just shrink? Or, as we’ll see the notebook has a larger form, have the letters been printed on it then, and has the maker not accounted for its shrinking? I’d say the latter.

I think we can also say that Arthur is now its owner, because he can actually read the text on its cover. I wonder what would happen if someone like Doyle would find it. Would they not see any text? Would they be able to see it at all?

Arthur works out that the cover says A Compleat Atlas of the House and Immediate Environs”. (For those who can’t see it, “complete” is spelled with “e-a-t” at the end.) He guesses this is because the letters have moved around so often. Such a “compleat” atlas seems like it would be quite convenient…

Ed gives “[h]i-tech” as an explanation, but “he [doesn’t] sound convinced, or convincing.” Leaf suggests magic, “very matter of fact.” She tells him to open the book. Arthur does so, but “the covers won’t budge”. He says it’s not like they’re “stuck together”. He can see the pages ripple like they can move freely, but he simply can’t open the book, “[not] [e]ven when he applie[s] so much force that he would have ripped the covers off any normal book.” Definitely magic, then.

The effort makes him cough, and he has trouble regaining his breath. He can feel “another asthma attack” approaching, “that sudden tightening of the lungs.” The monitor that checks “the oxygen level in his blood” begins to beep, and a nurse hurries towards the room along the corridor. Leaf says that “their set’s over.” Arthur quickly asks if the “dog-faced men” found anything, like a piece of metal. Leaf asks what it should be like. Arthur says it’s “[t]he minute hand of a clock”, and it’s “[s]ilver, with gold inlay.” Ed and Leaf shake their head.

The nurse comes in and says that “visiting time is over”, because they can’t get “Master Penhaligon” overexcited. Arthur grimaces at the nickname, and so do Ed and Leaf. The latter even “[makes] a gagging sound.” I find it somewhat darkly amusing with what is to come in this series.

The nurse notices this, and apologises. She says she was “on the children’s ward all morning.” She tells Ed and Leaf to get going. Ed says he didn’t see anything like the minute hand. He says the dog-faces, which he corrects to “dogs” halfway through, were gone this morning. But they had dug up the “entire oval” and replaced the turf afterwards. They did a good job of it, as they “couldn’t tell from a distance.” He’s amazed they “did it so quickly.”

Arthur asks if they really did the whole oval. He says it doesn’t make sense, as he’s buried the clock hand “somewhere in the middle.” Well, the obvious answer would be that it’s not there… He thinks that they’d “surely” stopped digging if they’d found it. He then tries to justify it by offering that they might have wanted to cover up what they were doing.

The nurse tells Ed and Leaf to leave because she has to give Arthur an injection. Leaf confirms that they dug up the whole oval while standing by the door. She says they’ll come back to see him later. The nurse says that it will be “tomorrow”. Arthur waves them goodbye, “his mind racing.” The nurse tells him to roll over, lifts his “ridiculous hospital gown” and swabs the area where she’s about to inject, but Arthur barely pays attention, as he’s thinking about the happenings.

He first thinks about “Mister Monday and Sneezer”, and asks who they could possibly be. He deduces that the minute hand is a part of “some Key” that Monday gave to Arthur, expecting that the latter would die. And then “Monday would take it back.” The whole plan has been set up by Sneezer, “but there [is] some double-cross involved.” At the end, Sneezer was “under the power of something else.” That something else are the glowing words that gave him the notebook. That is the Compleat Atlas that he can’t open, “so it [doesn’t] really matter how ‘compleat’ it [is].”

He's take the minute hand, which he decides to call “a Key”, and he hasn’t died. Because of that, he feels “as if he still own[s] it.” Monday did give it to him, after all, so fair enough. He thanks that the dog-faced men probably work for Monday, and if they’ve dug up “the whole oval”, they’d have found the Key “for sure” and taken it to Monday.

Arthur says that “maybe that [will] be the end of the whole mystery”, but he doesn’t think so. He’s very certain “that something [is] only just beginning.” Given that there are six books after this, I’d think so as well. He says that he’s been given the Key and the Atlas “for a reason”, and he’s determined to find out what it is. We’re told that “[e]veryone in his family [says] that he [is] too curious about everything” (as if that is a bad thing in and of itself). “This [is] the biggest thing he’[s] ever encountered to be curious about.” We’ll see where this will lead him.

He decides that he’ll first get the Key back, and he puts “his hands under his pillow” as the nurse makes the injection, which “[brings] him back to the immediate reality.” As he feels the injection, he stretches his fingers, and “[he] touche[s] something cold and metallic.” “For an instant”, he thinks it’s the bad frame. But it has a very different “shape and feel”. Then he realises what it is.

It’s “[t]he minute hand. The Key.” Yes! He’s got it back! Now to look into the mystery. He’s sure it wasn’t there “only a few minutes before”, as he always puts his hands under the pillow when he lies down. He guesses that it might have materialised when he took the Atlas from Leaf. Which might be true, for all that I know. He compares it to “the magical objects in stories that follow[] their owners around[.]” Arthur, being genre-savvy, remembers that most of those objects are cursed, and you can’t get rid of them however much you might want to…

They nurse tells him to stay still, and says that “[i]t’s not like [him] to flinch.” And there the chapter ends.

To evaluate it, I’ll use the questions that Kerlois came up with in Eragon:

What has happened in this chapter?:

Ed and Leaf have paid a visit to Arthur. Arthur tried to open the Atlas, but couldn’t do so and got an asthma attack. The Key appeared beneath his pillow.

What have we learned in this chapter?:

We’ve learned all about Arthur’s family. We’ve learned what Ed and Leaf are like. We now know that there are also dog-faced people going around, and that different people can see different kinds of magical phenomena. And we know more about the Atlas.

How does this affect the characters?:

Arthur is now determined to solve whatever is going on, and Ed and Leaf have also been drawn into the mystery.

In general, this is an information chapter; it provides some rest after the happenings of the first chapter, deepens the mystery somewhat, and it gives us exposition on Arthur’s family. I do appreciate the calmer pace here, especially when compared to some of the later books.

Next up is chapter three, with… me! Until then!

Date: 2023-08-02 08:00 am (UTC)
kalinara: An image of the robot Jedidiah from the 1970s Tomorrow People TV Show (Default)
From: [personal profile] kalinara
I always like a good information chapter as long as it's not boring. :)

Profile

I Read What?!

June 2025

S M T W T F S
12 3 45 67
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
2930     

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 9th, 2025 11:52 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios