The Grimdark Path: The book that started it all
Since my debut novel launched a few days ago, I’ve been reflecting on my journey as a writer and especially how it is that I came to be so fascinated by the world of Grimdark. As a relatively new sub-genre, there is still no absolute defining characteristic for what makes a book ‘grimdark’ – although a quick Google search will offer up several suggestions.
There are, of course, many books that set the standard for the genre, but looking back over the various books that I’ve read since childhood, I’ve come to realise that my path to grimdark started many years before I even became aware of it’s existence. I’ve always leaned more towards fantasy and particularly dark fantasy.
One book in particular, however, can be held responsible for setting both me and my writing in this specific direction. This post is not a review of said book, but more an homage. It’s been over twenty-five years since I first read it, and yet it still echoes in my mind today. The impact that it (and in particular one specific character) had on me still influences the way I look at fantasy writing, if not all writing decades later.
That book is ‘The Alchymist’s Cat’ by Robin Jarvis (published in 1991).
Before reading this particular book, a lot of my exploration into fantasy had been traditional, swords, and sorcery (albeit for a younger audience) style stories. For the first time, I found a book that was not only gloriously macabre and dark but simultaneously also incredibly moving and (in some parts) heartbreaking.
The characters of Jupiter and Leech (particularly the latter) resonated with me for years, not only because of their complexity (that’s right, cats are complicated) but because of the fragility of their relationships with everyone around them and themselves.
What Jarvis did was create a bleak and terrifying world (plague, fire, murder, betrayal) in which two brothers could enact unspeakable horrors on each other, and yet, I still felt enormous sympathy for both of them. I felt their sadness. I felt the bitterness that comes from knowing the world has rejected you.
I’ve seen reviews of this book in which people have argued that it is far too dark for the age group it is aimed at. Speaking as someone who read it at possibly an even younger age than intended, I can say that, whilst some children may find it too upsetting, I personally found it honestly (and often brutally) opened up my eyes to a world that was far more complicated than simple good versus evil, light versus dark. It was refreshing, intriguing. It is a book that stays with you.
It was one of the very first I read in which I felt there were no real heroes – there are villains – after all, this is a book in which animals get brutally beaten to death. The protagonist, Will, is more of an unfortunate victim than a hero, although his actions invariably are borne of good intention. There are no noble causes. For many of the characters, the goal is to survive rather than thrive.
It is a book in which the pursuit of power causes the innocent bystanders (in this case, the tragically fated Imelza’s family of cats) to become caught up in the devastation of collateral damage. It was also the first book to truly make me consider the age-old debate of ‘Nature versus Nurture.’
Especially in the case of Leech – bullied, maligned, and rejected since birth, I find that the emotion I identify with most strongly when thinking of this particular character is one of hopelessness. Not evil, not malevolence despite ample evidence of both. Leech became, for me, the archetypal example of a villain created by the world around them.
‘The Alchymist’s Cat’ is a book that I will never forget. I’ve read a lot of books, including many of the great Grimdark standards (Joe Abercrombie, Scott Lynch, etc.), and the more of them I find; the more I lean further towards a grittier and darker tale. As for where it all started, well, that is undeniably with Leech, or as he may prefer to be known – ‘Jupiter, Lord of All’.
