Keeper of Enchanted Rooms

“A nonwizard moving into an enchanted house was a delicate situation.”

This line summarizes the premise or plot device of the book: Merritt, who does not yet know that he has magical talent, moves into a house that is enchanted, and he needs Hulda to help him navigate the house’s peculiarities. This line also captures the light understatement that is characteristic of Hulda’s tone in the chapters told from her point of view.

“Augury did that from time to time, divining without her wishing it to. Behind her eyes, she saw the shadow of a great animal, as though lit by moonlight. A dog, maybe a wolf.”

This passage introduces Hulda’s magic, which is augury, and provides a hint at her backstory, which will prove to involve Silas Hogwood. The threatening, predatory image of a wolf foreshadows Silas’s appearance.

“Just when he thought it was finally done, that he was finally cured, it came bubbling up again. Something always brought it up, and he hated it, because it never hurt any less, even so many years later.”

This passage works to establish foreshadowing and suspense, as the reader isn’t entirely sure what incident is bothering Merritt as he’s trapped in his kitchen. The hint at something hurtful in his past provides a backstory for Merritt and adds dimension to his character.

“Magic […] is a dying art. Magicked homes even more so. They’re crucial to our history. They preserve what we cannot, spells long lost to the whims of genealogy, for when magic has no fallible body, it cannot fade or dissipate. In the modern world, magicked homes provide endless study for scholars, wizards, and historians alike. They are museums of the craft.”

This speech by Hulda adds to the world building of the novel as it explains how magic and enchanted homes function. The implication that magic must be preserved from dying out adds stakes to the conflict, while this information sets the reader up to understand why Silas, in the following chapter, buys an enchanted home that he steals spells from.

“It [Gorse End] would be theirs, because Christian was part of Silas now. Just as his mother was. They were together, combined, protecting each other. Safe. Silas was keeping them safe. Keeping himself safe.”

Silas’s fevered thoughts after he kills his brother, nearly an internal monologue, reflect the motivations for his villainy and the way he justifies his actions. Having a relatable motivation makes Silas a more rounded character and not just a stereotypical villain.

“I’ve been lonely for a long time. Sure, I’ve had friends, colleagues, so I’m not isolated. But I still feel it. It’s the deep, lasting kind of loneliness. The hollow kind that settles in your bones.”

Merritt makes a confession about his own character when he addresses the house, asking if it’s lonely. His overture is a turning point in the plot, indicating that he is coming to terms with his family legacy and his unique situation. This moment—when the house makes a friendly gesture back—foreshadows the connection that Merritt will have with the resident spirit, Owein.

“Hulda Larkin had found his secret hideaway. She had known, and she had informed the King’s League. The woman had opened the doors to these men, when Silas was so close to peace.”

Silas interprets his arrest as a betrayal by Hulda, who was employed as his housekeeper and who had thwarted his ability to protect himself. This discovery ends the chapters that have provided backstory on Silas’s doings in England and inform the conflict of the 1846 storyline when he shows up in Rhode Island.

“The people here were as ordinary as they came, dregs from other countries with little to no importance, clamoring together to make a better life for themselves. Which meant that Silas was very likely the most powerful person here.”

America provides a vivid contrast from England for Silas, who interprets its doctrines of freedoms in his own favor. There is no authority here over his magic, and so he feels free to do as he wishes—the notion of personal freedom taken to its extreme.

“All magic had countereffects, though most people had so little magic in their blood, they were rarely severe.”

One way that the fantasy genre succeeds in creating believable worlds is by establishing rules for the magic or other fantastical elements. Holmberg is clear about how magic works in Keeper of Enchanted Rooms, and the notion that the exercise of magic has consequences works to create conflict and tension as various characters employ their powers at different times.

“Only worry about yourself. It was advice [Hulda] had to inculcate often, as she frequently wished she could take control of others’ lives for a little while, if only to make the world a more organized place.”

This passage, laced with the author’s characteristic dry humor and style, plays on the element of Hulda’s character that both defines her and provides an ongoing source of humorous tension with Merritt: Hulda is organized, efficient, and authoritative and is exasperated by lack of organization or messiness in others.

“It was just a little spark, nothing important. But sparks led to embers led to flames, so it had to be snuffed now, before her heart again crumbled to ash.”

As attraction grows between Hulda and Merritt, Hulda’s internal obstacle is revealed: She is determined not to harbor any foolish romantic fantasies that won’t come true. This vulnerability adds dimension to her character and creates further tension as the relationship progresses.

“His island. […] For a while, he’d wondered if his grandmother had bequeathed it to him as a curse. But in truth, the place had proven to be a pleasant adventure.”

Despite his initial resistance to the house’s pranks, Merritt’s character arc in the novel involves becoming more comfortable with the house and the island. Whimbrel House offers him a home and a sense of community that he hasn’t had since he was cast out by his family.

“Think of how much more we could do if we had more magically capable persons in this country. We’d have more kinetic trams and sustainable energy, healthier crops, better futures, calmer minds, stronger—”

Mr. Clarke’s argument to Hulda reflects the positive uses to which magic can be put in this world, a counterbalance and contrast to what the reader has seen so far of the cruelties of Silas and the pranks of the house. The positive aspects pose a logical argument for why magic should be preserved from dying out, a cause that Hulda believes in.

“Finding that forgotten, mud-encased grave had struck a chord within [Merritt]. A note that still rang, even now. He felt empathetic for a house, for the person within its walls that he couldn’t see, couldn’t really talk to. He felt connected to him, like they were two novels of the same series.”

Merritt is a novelist, so it makes sense that he thinks in literary analogies. His empathy for Owein, the spirit inhabiting the house, is a key part of his character arc, as Merritt begins to feel integrated into a family again.

“Hulda was like picking up a book with no description, fanfare, or title and discovering it got better and better with each page turned. He wanted to know how her story would read.”

Merritt compares getting to know Hulda to reading a book that has fascinated him. This comparison becomes an extended metaphor as Merritt returns to this image of his relationship with Hulda being a book that he wants to read more of.

“He’d begun to suspect it was a comforting mask she wore—the utmost professionalism to hide unwanted emotions and discomfiture. Another page turned in her metaphorical book.”

Merritt extends the metaphor of thinking of Hulda as a book, comparing his growing understanding of her motives and mannerisms to reading a new page in the book. This growing connection is part of the romance subplot.

“Merritt’s—Mr. Fernsby’s—soft words in the kitchen yesterday had softened her resolve. A resolve she heavily starched when alone, yet somehow managed to crinkle whenever she was in his presence.”

This image of Hulda attempting to strengthen her resolve not to have tender feelings for Merritt, comparing herself to items of clothing that could be stiffened with starch, is an example of the occasionally amusing lines and figurative language in the book. Hulda’s resistance to developing tender feelings is part of her character arc throughout the novel.

“The autumn scent and color scheme made [Merritt] nostalgic for something he couldn’t quite describe. Perhaps it was simply for childhood autumns, when he hadn’t had a care in the world.”

The descriptions of the island’s natural beauty play a role in establishing its appeal to Merritt. The connection here to pleasant memories from childhood helps establish the emotional arc in which Merritt is growing more attached to his island, his house, and the community he’s found.

“He’d already paid his dues for those sacrifices. He’d already suffered the loss. It had nearly broken him. Shredded him, then rebuilt him into something stronger. Something that could conquer anyone and anything. Something that could carry on the legacies of the fallen.”

Holmberg makes her antagonist, Silas, a rounded character by giving him motivations for the harm he inflicts. This internal monologue reflects how Silas believes that he has suffered and struggled but is carrying on the legacies of the people whose magic he stole.

“Beauty is just like a book. Some will not bother to look beyond the cover; others will find the entire tome utterly captivating.”

Merritt returns to the metaphor of the book when he attempts to tell Hulda that he finds her beautiful. This is a tender moment in the romance plot that draws them together, as Hulda has recently realized her feelings for Merritt and hopes that he returns them.

“[Merritt] exhaled shakily, and suddenly he was eighteen years old again, standing in the middle of the street after a heavy rain with nowhere to go. No family to take him in, no fiancée to soothe his hurt, no child to take his name, no promises left to keep—”

Merritt’s flashback when he sees Ebba’s name on the playbill recreates his emotional turmoil at being abandoned by his family. This emotional low anticipates the blow that he will feel when he realizes that Hulda means to leave him, too. The image of the heavy rain adds to the feeling of desolation and despair.

“One of the hardest things Hulda had ever done was to sew up the guise of self-sufficient old maid and keep a straight face through her conversation with Merritt.”

In keeping with her inclination to remain self-contained, Hulda holds to her composure in her conversation with Merritt when she sees him choosing to pursue Ebba. In terms of the romance plot, this third-act breakup creates conflict and tension that propels the narrative toward its resolution as the protagonists seek to remove the obstacles keeping them apart. The image of sewing maintains the sense of Hulda as a tidy person who projects a calm image.

“You think you can thwart me? […] Nobody will have power over me. Not family, not BIKER, not even the Queen’s League.”

Part of what makes Silas a convincing antagonist is his motivations, which remain consistent over the course of the novel. From the beginning scene, when he fights his father, Silas has hated for anyone to have power over him. The source and uses of power are a major theme of the novel.