Jackaby

“Despite all of the mismatched chaos of its design, the building coalesced into something that seemed, somehow, right. No two elements of the property belonged together, but taken as a whole, not a thing stood out of place.”

This first glimpse of Jackaby’s house foreshadows his character and Abigail’s relationship with him. Jackaby and his home are both embodiments of controlled chaos. His relationship with the unseen world around him is one of disparate elements coming together in, if not harmony, some sort of manageable order. This is likewise the case with Jackaby and Abigail, who would seem to be completely at odds but instead complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

“I have ceased concerning myself with how things look to others, Abigail Rook. I suggest you do the same. In my experience, others are generally wrong.”

This idea is echoed later at the novel’s end when Abigail says, “I have ceased concerning myself with how things look to others […]. As someone told me recently, others are generally wrong” (292). This gives the novel a circular quality and illustrates the journey Abigail has taken since first meeting Jackaby. The line also has a double meaning: Jackaby literally sees the world differently than others, and they are “wrong” because they see projected glamour and illusion; however, it also suggests that others often only observe the surface of others and make hasty judgments.

“I find most men are already more than happy to believe a young woman is a frail little thing. So, technically the deception was already there, I just employed it in a convenient way.”

This line highlights the theme of Perception, Illusion, and Truth as Abigail takes advantage of an officer’s preconceived notions. This is very similar to how supernatural beings use glamour and illusion based on perceptions already in place. The moment shows that illusions aren’t always magical in nature; they’re sometimes born of prejudice and cultural stigma.

“It allows me to see truth where others see the illusion—and there are many illusions, so many masks and facades. All the world’s a stage, as they say, and I seem to have the only seat in the house with a view behind the curtain.”

Jackaby literally treats the world as a stage on many occasions, particularly nearing the novel’s climax when he gathers all the officers together for a final performance. Here he explains to Abigail his gift of second sight and his ability to see through glamour; however, the “masks and facades” apply to the everyday as well. In this way, Jackaby and Abigail are complementary forces; he excels at seeing the extra-human, while Abigail is better at seeing the human.

“What sort of detective didn’t look in the bin? The men in my adventure magazines were always finding important clues in the bin.”

Throughout the novel, Abigail brings her preconceptions of what a detective is supposed to be and what their work is supposed to look like. While Jackaby finds this tiresome, it also highlights their complementary observation skills—each perceives what the other misses. Abigail’s innocence brings both a comic naïveté and a fresh perspective.

“I thought of Mrs. Morrigan’s face, and was suddenly ashamed of my rash accusation. I was glad that Jackaby had shown her some tenderness, and I realized he had given her what little he could: his thanks.”

Here Abigail begins to understand that The Nature of Humanity is not as simple as natural and supernatural. This marks a turning point for her as she learns there is more depth to individuals like Mrs. Morrigan and, later, Charlie Cane. While Jackaby is not an especially sensitive nor tactful character, he recognizes the humanity in Mrs. Morrigan and can teach that experience to Abigail.

“I see the things more extraordinary still, the things no one else sees. But you—you notice mailboxes and wastebaskets and…and people. One who can see the ordinary is extraordinary indeed, Abigail Rook.”

Abigail is intended to be an “everyman” archetype, a normal human character thrown into an extraordinary circumstance. In this, she becomes a stand-in for the reader. However, Jackaby tells her that her everyday perceptiveness elevates her not anything supernatural. By doing so, he teaches the reader that even the most normal person has the potential for the extraordinary within them.

“Until that moment, the events of the day had all been new and remarkable, but being left behind was one area in which I had countless hours of experience.”

This moment signals a sharp shift from the “remarkable” to the banality of the everyday. Abigail’s experience foreshadows her interaction with Jackaby at the novel’s end, in which he attempts to leave her behind, and she refuses. Her inability to stand up for herself here marks the beginning of her growth and journey toward independence.

“Although painted in entirely different styles with neatly opposite color schemes, the two pictures seemed to belong together, held in unity, like the house itself, by some stronger force than aesthetic logic.”

This marks Abigail’s first experience with the two prominent paintings of Jackaby’s home, and their unlikely symphony mirrors the harmony of Jackaby’s home and Jackaby himself. However, the opposing elements and color schemes can also be seen as symbolic of the two opposing worlds that Jackaby and now Abigail straddle in their work, each contrasting sides of society. Like the natural and the supernatural, they fit together in an unexpected but necessary way.

“In those days I had known there must be monsters in the world, but I would happily accept them, knowing that, by the same logic, there must also be wizards and wands and flying carpets. I had never really closed that part of my mind, just slowly stopped visiting it as I grew older.”

This moment again brings Abigail into the role of avatar for the reader and the target audience’s relationship with magic. Many of the novel’s readers would have gone through a similar experience in moving from childhood to young adulthood and beyond, and this moment deepens their connection with the protagonist. In addition, it presents the contrast and duality of the magical world so prevalent in the story—the light and the dark, the beautiful and the grotesque.

“Legends suggests a certain Hungarian countess actually bathed in the stuff back in the sixteenth century. Earned her titles like ‘the Blood Countess’ and ‘the Bloody Lady’ among the terrified townsfolk.”

Although not named directly, this is a reference to real-life “Blood Countess” Elizabeth Báthory, a 16th-century noblewoman and serial killer who went on to inspire centuries of folklore and culture. The mythology of Ritter’s novel is a blend of material original to the author and real historical or folkloric anecdotes. References like this one give the novel an immersive authenticity for the reader.

“She has saved his town and its people from countless monsters countless times. That the battles are usually in her head does not lessen the bravery of it. The hardest battles always are.”

This moment of levity in which Jackaby recounts Hatun’s sillier misadventures is deepened by a deeper truth. She is presented as a woman with a mental illness caught between worlds, and her struggles are also mirrored in Charlie’s dual identity. Here, Jackaby encourages kindness and compassion to those whose battles are on the inside and teaches Abigail to look beyond the obvious in a different way.

“Monsters are easy, Miss Rook. They’re monsters. But a monster in a suit? That’s basically just a wicked man, and a wicked man is a more dangerous thing by far.”

Although the novel’s villain is a monster in the most literal sense, he’s also a man in a position of power. It’s these combined elements that make him a formidable threat. Jackaby encourages Abigail to look past her understanding of what a monster is and what it means to be human. This alludes to the theme of Social Dynamics and what it means for those in power.

“He spoke to me. Like a person. He made a pot of tea—even asked my permission to use the kitchen first, and just made a pot of tea. We sat at the table and chatted. It was the first proper chat I’d had in a decade.”

Prior to meeting Jackaby, Jenny had been at odds with the people around her simply for being a ghost—a state over which she had no control. This parallels the struggles faced by otherworldly beings like Charlie. Jackaby looks beyond her condition and treats her like a human, illuminating the underlying theme of The Nature of Humanity. This small gesture made an enormous difference to Jenny and allowed her to see herself as human too.

“I had heard of offices feeling like prisons, but in this case our prison felt, rather anticlimactically, like an office.”

This moment alludes to Abigail’s preconceptions that come from the stories she reads, much like her ideas surrounding detective work. It also creates a sense of both banality in the tension approaching the novel’s climax and a sense of equality and unity in the prison setting. Rather than putting the protagonists and the prison workers violently at odds, this scene sets up their connection as they all become subject to the scream of the banshee and their impending death.

“Culture and lore shape our societal expectations—and Marlowe has no doubt internalized countless archetypes of wicked women. La Llorona and her slaughtered children, Sirens and their shipwrecks, Eve and the apple.”

Jackaby’s observation alludes to both the underlying theme of Social Dynamics and the constant motif of real-world and historical folklore. This moment presents the idea that society is shaped by perception, and that lore plays a role in the relationships people have with the world around them. He suggests that despite others’ inability to see the truth behind the veil, they are nonetheless aware of it on a subconscious, instinctual level.

“They served only to darken and add menace to the shadows around them—although, admittedly, my perception was tinted by the knowledge that a serial murderer, one with motive to deliver us to our own horrific deaths, was lurking free in the city.”

Here, the author uses setting and language to heighten the scene’s tension. However, he does it in a way that’s self-aware of its effect. Rather than incorporating language and motifs that suggest a gothic or horrific setting, the author chooses to observe these motifs through the eyes of the protagonist. This brings the protagonist closer to the reader while also supporting the themes of how one’s perceptions shape the world.

“People are dying. I don’t believe in you, or your ridiculous claims about magic and monsters, but you have a way of making things turn up, things like that map I can’t ignore that just because you’re a lunatic and I don’t like you.”

This marks a turning point in Marlowe’s character. Until this point, he has been largely antagonistic, despite his and Jackaby fighting for the same side. In this moment, he consciously chooses to overcome his own prejudices and inhibitions for the greater good—and, in doing so, his world becomes a little wider.

“I believed her, I realized, but I had already come to terms with my death so many times in the span of a day, I found it difficult to be frightened by the announcement. I had crested that emotional hill already, and the view was becoming familiar.”

Abigail’s journey from England and her work with Jackaby has been a series of “emotional hills,” and each has contributed to her growth as a character in some way. Here, she has reached a point of integration where her knowledge of the supernatural is no longer jarring or unexpected in any way. This shows that she has completed one aspect of her journey from entering a world to being fully and confidentially immersed in it.

“Swift has taken the time to pull on his long, dark coat with the deep red trim and matching crimson derby, but below the charcoal hem of the coat, a pair of silk pajama legs was visible.”

Swift’s hat is noted in each of his appearances using different color adjectives to describe its hue. Here, the effect is heightened by comparing it with the deep red of the dark coat. The contrast of black and red and the attention to the pivotal hat work as foreshadowing for the violent climax soon to come.

“As I looked into the commissioner’s face, the glamour melted away. He looked as he had always looked, but my mind finally allowed me to see the features I had been forcefully ignoring until now.”

This line encapsulates the novel’s core theme of Perception, Illusion, and Truth. Abigail acknowledges that the illusion didn’t truly come from the commissioner but from her preconceived notions of what the world should be. Much like she used her femininity to craft an illusion that fooled the police officers, Swift used her understanding of the world to fool her. Now, she has reached a point in her character arc where she can see the world for what it truly is.

“‘Marlowe is a good man,’ Jackaby added, thoughtfully, ‘but he only knows how to slay dragons. This world is full of dragon-slayers. What we need are a few more people who aren’t too proud to listen to a fish.’”

As the novel draws to a close, the story re-examines the motif of Jackaby’s two paintings and what they mean for the themes as a broader whole. Much like the way Jackaby and his home exist in a state of unified order and chaos, this moment suggests that the world would be a healthier place embracing that same union of order and chaos, of contrasting approaches to life, within itself.

“One monster in the newspaper is more than enough, and by this point, half the town will swear to you they saw a werewolf—even the ones who didn’t see anything at all.”

This is another example of how belief and even truth can be shaped by perception. Marlowe suggests a sort of mob mentality has taken place that has altered people’s knowledge of events, which is really a smaller scale of what happens in the larger world. Here, the truth matters less than the way people have chosen to perceive the truth, which is the foundation of the illusions utilized throughout the novel.