In Memoriam

It was a very sad thing when I read that on February 5th, 2011, renowned author and storyteller Brian Jacques passed away. Upon reading the news, there were really no words. None whatsoever.

Brian Jacques has always been able to endear his readers, young and old, with his heroic, comical, and sinister characters. His baddies are bad, his victors are real, his descriptions vivid and textured. The red stones of the Abbey were something I imagined I could feel under my fingers, the great depths of Mossflower Wood a haven I often found myself wandering through, the vast oceans and plains and the great Badger Lords' mountain, Salamandastron, all new worlds that wide-eyes were never tired of looking upon. I cried when the heroes died, even when some of the more tragic villains died, like Veil. I bit my lips and cringed when the villains got too close to the heroes, or when they overcame them, and I bounced up and down in delight whenever the good guys triumphed. And who didn't drool whenever there was a great Redwall feast held? I wanted to eat Deeper'n'Ever Turnip'n'Tater'n'Beetroot Pie, strawberry fizz, Hot Root Soup, breads, cheeses, Skilly and Duff, scones, turnovers, Meadowcream, crystalized fruits, tarts, puddings, muffins, cordial, oat cakes...the list goes on and on, and even though I don't like some of the things in real life that were mentioned, I wanted to try them all nonetheless!

I first picked up a Jacques novel when I was in elementary school. Having exhausted the books at home-- including my father's massive, leather-bound "Complete Works of Jack London", which all of the other students thought I was mad to be lugging around, much less reading-- I was slowly working my way through my school library, from The Unicorn Chronicles to The Bobbsey Twins to The Arkadians to anything else that I could put my hands on (except, of course, for the huge, green-bound novel that I initially came upon in excitement at its size only to turn away in disdain when I discovered it was about baseball...) Finally I found the 'J' section, to the right of the entrance, at the very bottom, and there were the Redwall books. Not all of them, mind you, but some of the first few, including Redwall, Mariel of Redwall, Mattimeo, Mossflower, Marlfox, and The Legend of Luke. I don't remember which one I read first, but it didn't matter. I was hooked from there on out and began pouring through them, purchasing the books whenever I had the money or whenever a new novel was released.

I liked Mattimeo and The Legend of Luke extremely well, but Taggerung was always my favorite. I got the book just about as soon as it came out: sleek, hardcover, with its gorgeous cover art of Tag in full villainous splendor wielding his knife in the river. I don't know why, exactly, but the strange tragedy and power behind the story captivated me like none had yet. And the main character being an otter was even greater cause for my cheer-- the otters were always my favorite, other than the squirrels and the hares and the foxes.What makes this book so special to me even today, however, is a certain signature on the inside cover.

I don't even remember when-- if I was still in middle school or already in high school at the time-- but at one point before I moved up to Atlanta, Brian Jacques himself came to my little home town of Peachtree City and held a signing and storytelling at the local Books-A-Million. He had such a big, vivid personality, even while being so gentle, and his stories were hysterical and free-flowing. I remember he told us a childhood tale of his own when he and a friend sneaked a cat (and themselves) into a movie theater, only to have the cat go berserk in the middle of the film, revealing their hidden presence. Then we all stood and went in line for him to sign our books with a flourish and a cheerful joke that at the beginning of the day he had nine-dinitis, and at the end of the day he'd have eleven-dinitis (instead of tendinitis, you know? Get it, get it?) I remember he commented on the fact that my book already had a name signed in it-- I was still at that point in my life in the habit of writing my name at the top of all the inside covers of my books, seeing as how I lent them out so often and was adamant that I get them back. And even though I only met him once, he left a big impression on me.

Brian Jacques' books will always be a treasure to whoever read them. Their magic and marvel will be something that I will share with young people I know until I am no longer around, and if I have children, I will pass down my own, well-worn novels for them to enjoy. I was recently inspired to revamp my collection, to fill in the spots that were books my sister had and I did not, and to buy all the newer volumes that I never purchased or read since my interests turned around the time of Triss. It is definitely on my list of in-process to-dos, and I look forward to reading High Rhulain, the first 'new' book to come into my possession since beginning that project.

Rest in peace, Brian Jacques. You'll be sorely missed. But your voice and your lands and your stories will resonate long, long into the ages. Thank you for that.

Caitlyn