The Lives of Christopher Chant

Being unwell entitles one to comfort reading, right? In the past I've turned to Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers and Antonia Forest for convalescent nourishment, but this time I fancied a bit of Diana Wynne Jones. I should revisit her work more often: God, she's good! The Lives of Christopher Chant is chronologically the first, but in publication terms the second, volume of the Chrestomanci series, outlining how Christopher Chant first became the heir to the title. 

Diana Wynne Jones is a master. Her writing juggles complex magical concepts and multiple worlds with deceptive ease, and if this book was any more tightly plotted, it would implode. Christopher is a flawed but sympathetic protagonist, but the rest of the cast are wonderful, particularly the living Goddess of Asheth and her incredible Temple cats. But the novel is so engaging, so witty and so clever, the reader doesn't realise how much she's packed in until you try to explain what's going on.

I enjoyed this book so much I went back to my bookshelf for more Chrestomanci and realised to my horror that I didn't actually possess any more (I have about eight Diana Wynne Jones books, mostly picked up in library book sales -- shame, Darebin libraries, shame! -- but no more Chrestomancis). So I've treated myself to a Kindle bundle of the whole lot and I'm looking forward to six more volumes of pure delight.