Reflecting on "Howl's Moving Castle" (the book, not the movie)--cleaning, fictional characters, and scented steam

Yesterday my daughter was writing quotations from Howl’s Moving Castle (the book, not the movie) to post on the pantry quotation wall. She told me that thinking about Sophie, the main character, inspired her to clean her room. That, in turn, inspired me to think of many things: cleaning, the touches of everyday life in books, and the way fictional characters motivate us to imitate them.

Sophie Hatter certainly does do a lot of cleaning in this book. She cleans remorselessly. (I love that phrase.) The dirt and spiderwebs don’t stand a chance. Nor does Michael.

“I wish you’d stop,” said Michael, sitting on the stairs out of her way. (p.43)

She doesn’t necessarily do her cleaning in the right order, however.

[Calcifer] crackled with mean laughter when Sophie discovered that soot had got all over the room and she had to clean it all again. That was Sophie’s trouble. She was remorseless, but she lacked method. But there was this method to her remorselessness: she calculated that she could not clean this thoroughly without sooner or later coming across Howl’s hidden hoard… (p.44)

Cleaning is a way of poking around without being obvious about it. It’s also a good way to tell whether you’ve searched someplace already, as I’ve discovered in the Great C&C Easter Egg Hunt. Diana Wynne Jones’s books often have some wonderful detail that makes me think, “Yes, exactly!” and this is one of them.

The word “method” also reminds me of a story my mother tells, about my grandmere coming to visit us in Geneva when I was a toddler and being disturbed by my mother’s housekeeping. “You have no method!” she complained. Apparently I inherited this lack and so have something in common with Sophie.

There are other lovely details in the book, like the description of the bathroom before Sophie gets to cleaning.

Sophie winced from the toilet, flinched at the color of the bath, recoiled from green weed growing in the shower, and quite easily avoided looking at her shriveled shape in the mirrors because the glass was plastered with blobs and runnels of nameless substances. The nameless substances themselves were crowded onto a very large shelf over the bath. (p.33)                                                                                 

This is one of the few areas in which I must say the movie did a good job. They really made that bathroom look terrible. Some years ago I commented on Facebook that M had gotten face paints for her birthday, and our bathroom sink looked like it belonged in Howl's Moving Castle. I wish very much that I had taken a photo, but apparently I didn't.

The bathroom is important, given Howl’s vanity. Every time I pass our bathroom right after M takes a shower, I think of Howl emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of hyacinth-scented steam. Of course, in our house it’s more likely to be lavender, or frankincense-citrus, or some other really interesting Zum soap combination.

I said earlier that I was thinking about the way fictional characters inspire imitation. It’s obvious with kids and cartoon heroes, but does it stop there? When I was taking t’ai chi classes, I sometimes imagined myself as a movie ninja, to feel that state of relaxed alertness that movie ninjas display. I want to deduce like Sherlock Holmes, read tracks like Jim Chee, maybe even quote poetry like Inspector Gamache. I’d like to sing like Aza of Fairest, or recite epics like Meryl of The Two Princesses of Bamarre. And I mean not just that I’d like to be good at it, the way they are, but that when I read those books, singing with others and reciting poetry suddenly seem like appealing activities. Even if I’m not particularly good at them.

I can’t conclude a post about Howl’s Moving Castle without a word about the movie. The movie is totally unlike the book. It is visually amazing and having Sophie’s appearance continually change is clever, but the characters are very different and so is the plot. Whether you liked the movie or not, consider reading Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones. Just remember—the castle doesn’t look anything like the mechanical contrivance of the movie.

Side note: when did the English start saying “different to” instead of “different from”? I’m sure the British-authored books I read when I was young didn’t do this. I meant to look for an example in this book while I was re-reading it, but I got too caught up in the story.

Second side note: I have included quotations, which I think counts as Fair Use since this is sort of a review of the book and sort of educational (if you stretch the point a bit.) And everyone quotes little bits of this and that on the internet—not that that really proves anything.