The Ickabog

by J.K. Rowling

The word “Ickabog” derives from “Ichabod,” meaning “no glory” or “the glory has departed.”

What do the monsters we conjure tell us about ourselves? What must happen for evil to get a grip on a person, or on a country, and what does it take to defeat it? Why do people choose to believe lies even on scant or nonexistent evidence?

the only memorable thing that had ever come out of the Marshlands was the legend of the Ickabog.

Sometimes, two people can tell each other more with a look than others could tell each other with a lifetime of words.

She tried to find comfort in the idea that, being no longer earthbound, her parents could live anywhere, including in her own heart, and that she must keep their memories alive inside her, like a flame.

You may think this strange, but Mrs. Beamish was glad to hear Mr. Dovetail cry, because tears can heal a mind, as well as laughter.

“At the dawn of time, when only Ickabogs existed, stony Man was not created, with his Cold, flint-hearted ways, Then the world in its perfection Was like heaven’s bright reflection No one hunted us or harmed us In those lost, beloved days. Oh Ickabogs, come Bornding back, Come Bornding back, my Ickabogs. Oh Ickabogs, come Bornding back, Come Bornding back, my own. Then tragedy! One stormy night, Came Bitterness, Bornded of Fright And Bitterness, so tall and stout, Was different from its fellows. Its voice was rough, its ways were mean, The likes of it had not been seen Before, and so they drove it out With angry blows and bellows. Oh Ickabogs, be Bornded wise, Be Bornded wise, my Ickabogs. Oh Ickabogs, be Bornded wise, Be Bornded wise, my own. A thousand miles from its old home Its Bornding time arrived, alone In darkness, Bitterness expired And Hatred came to being. A hairless Ickabog, this last, A beast sworn to avenge the past, With bloodlust was the creature fired, Its evil eye far-seeing. Oh Ickabogs, be Bornded kind, Be Bornded kind, my Ickabogs. Oh Ickabogs, be Bornded kind, Be Bornded kind, my own. Then Hatred spawned the race of man, ’Twas from ourselves that man began, From Bitterness and Hate they swelled To armies, raised to smite us. In hundreds, Ickabogs were slain, Our blood poured on the land like rain, Our ancestors like trees were felled And still men came to fight us. Oh Ickabogs, be Bornded brave, Be Bornded brave, my Ickabogs. Oh Ickabogs, be Bornded b...

Lies upon lies upon lies. Once you started lying, you had to continue, and then it was like being captain of a leaky ship, always plugging holes in the side to stop yourself sinking.

Roderick was taken aback. He’d been taught by his father to expect the worst of everybody he met and that the one way to get on in life was to be the biggest, the strongest, and the meanest in every group.

Sometimes — I don’t know how — people who live many miles apart seem to realize the time has come to act.

Perhaps we go through a kind of Bornding when we change, for better or for worse. All I know is that countries, like Ickabogs, can be made gentle by kindness, which is why the kingdom of Cornucopia lived happily ever after.