Darkwater Hall by Catherine Fisher
I must have read this book for the first time over twenty years ago, and though I had forgotten the title, author and much of the story, a few little details stuck with me: the evocative atmosphere it conjured, the central premise that concerned a young girl striking a deal with the devil, and something about a stairwell that ran up and down time.
Then, one day while perusing the library catalogue in search of another book entirely, the cover art for Darkwater Hall (2011) stirred something in my memory. Could this be…? A few days later I had it in my hands, and yup – this was the story that had somehow lingered in the recesses of my mind despite my remembering so little about it (as it turns out, the stairway of time barely featured in the plot; it’s just a minor bit of world-building).
Revisiting a book after so long is always a risk – will it live up to your fond recollection of it? But Darkwater Hall remains a pervasive and mysterious read, a story concerning alchemy and theology and matters of the soul. As my experience with it proved, it’ll stick with you.
Sarah is a young girl living in abject poverty in the Victorian Era, having lost her inheritance due to her grandfather’s gambling habits and forced into a life of drudgery at a local school. Occasionally she goes to visit Darkwater Hall, her ancestral home, and so is there when the new Lord of the Manor arrives to take possession.
After making his acquaintance, he makes her an offer: to become his assistant in his alchemical experiments. As their relationship develops, Sarah grows more resentful of what she’s missed out on in life, which means she’s extra-vulnerable when Lord Azrael makes her a strange offer: the return of her estate and fortune (and one hundred years of life) in exchange for her immortal soul.
The story then takes a surprising turn: its second half picks up one hundred years later and focuses on a young boy called Simon, whose mother works as a cleaner up at Darkwater Hall (now converted into a modern boarding school). Spending most of his time avoiding the local bullies, Simon can feel something strange in the air, especially after he meets a mysterious girl who can see Tom… his twin brother that died at birth and who has haunted him throughout his life.
Sarah and Simon’s stories are destined to be interwoven, and though there is plenty more connective tissue between the two time periods, author Catherine Fisher choses to keep a lot of the whys and wherefores of the plot deliberately vague.
In the hands of a lesser writer, this can often come across as lazy or confusing, but Fisher knows what she’s doing. Without getting anything spelled out for you, you’re left with a sense of great forces working their will, both for and against the betterment of the world.
It still may not appeal to everyone, but I would say that the story’s greatest strength is the atmosphere it creates. Darkwater Hall reminded me of those British fantasy stories I used to read as a child, full of standing stones and forest paths and mist-soaked moors and ancient manor houses. Think Alan Garner and Susan Cooper and Jenny Nimmo’s The Silver Spider and Helen Cresswell’s Moondial. In terms of the ambience that this creates, it fits in beautifully with these titles.
This is one of the rare cases of a book from childhood not disappointing me after re-reading it as an adult. It’s dark and mysterious and beautifully written, with characters that will keep you guessing as to their motivations, and a story that will leave you thoughtfully pondering your own mortality.
I love the sense of atmosphere you’ve described here.
It’s such a rich and ancient ambience – in many ways the plot itself doesn’t matter, I just like strolling through the time and place that the book describes.