"Homeward Bounders" Ending Notes
Sep. 7th, 2022 09:49 am
- How does the ending work? What is it trying to do, and does it achieve this aim?
The ending works by resolving the central issue of the novels, the game, via a return of the king, meaningfully tipped off by Jamie. Jamie may exercise limited agency in the final battle (he’s active in the final battle, but not the star of the show), but he did cause it to occur in a meaningful and satisfying way. There’s a dispensation of happy endings to the core characters, a scattering of the cast, a lingering price to be on-goingly paid, a clear idea of the futurity of this world, and a thematic return to wandering and the persistent question of hope.
- Is this ending satisfying? Why or why not?
Sad—perhaps the saddest Jones ending, but satisfying in it. Maybe it’s Not Sad endings Jones doesn’t believe in or know how to make believable? It’s easier for Sadness to acquire a kind of unearned gravitas, sure, but this really does pull together in a way most Jones endings don’t.
- Where does the book climax, and what are the aftershocks of that?
The climax is probably the second and final assault on Them. The aftershocks are the restoration of all characters except Jamie to their own home universes (except in Vanessa’s case, where it’s a marriage plot). What exactly is Prometheus going to do now? Who knows. Jamie is cast into eternal exile. (This is also maybe one of Jones’ most successful uses of a shared trope mythos—it’s not just an observation that the Flying Dutchman and the Wandering Jew are similar stories with similar cultural impetuses behind them, it’s a whole plot mythology outlining why they’re similar.)
- Where does the plot end, and where does the book end? Do these coincide? Consider graphing the plot, if useful.
The ending of this book is quite compact. In the space of a very short time, Jamie and his allies raid Their compound, fail and are scattered. Jamie admits the true nature of the world he’s arrived in. In despair, he travels to Prometheus and, destitute of hope, unwittingly frees him. Prometheus and Jamie lead a mass assault on Them, and Jamie also admits and accepts his fate. I suppose the ending is probably in the aftermath of the successful assault—the taking up of the mantle. I think Alan Garner’s latest does something slightly like this too.
- If there is a frame narrative, how does the ending tie into it?
Jamie begins by making an account of his travels thus far into a sort of dictaphone. He has previously had to make similar disclosures to fill in allies and in attempts to generate belief in his predicament, and he situates this act in a similar context. In part he seems to be reconciling himself to his decision, and giving his surviving family (and friends) a final account of his fate, perhaps to make up for the uncertainty his natal family was left with after his disappearance (and that he himself experienced due to the same events). Also, his loneliness prompts him to talk to himself.
- Does the ending feel abrupt? If so, why?
If it does at all, it’s only because the book is quite short, and Konstam really charges in with his plan to fight Them. (Why didn’t he get all the demon hunters together for this assault in the first place? Why, other than for Doylist reasons, did he want to plunge in as a small team to eliminate this first cell of Them?)
- Does the ending scene, or do the final lines, seem apposite as an ending?
Yeah, especially because we had the ‘you wouldn’t believe how lonely it gets’ line twice before in the book, seeming to lead up to this final assertion.
- Is the distribution of outcomes broadly fair? If no, does the text feel like it recognises this (i.e. do you find yourself disagreeing with the book/narration itself on these point)?
The tragedy works because the outcomes do indeed feel fair. There was a 1:1 math to the final confrontation (violated due to Their tricks and the Bounders’ aggression, with due consequences, i.e. losses on the human/bounder side). Everyone is restored to their right homes, except for several of Them and Jamie, who chooses to sacrifice himself and continue to walk the bounds. Jamie has no fit home to return to anyway. He could forge a new one somewhere, but forecloses that path for himself by taking up this mantle. Konstam, Joris et al will continue to track the escaped Them, and the successive generations may some day succeed in wrapping this up, but Jamie may die before that happens. He ends with some hope, but of an uncertain nature. (So what, ultimately, is the last word on hope in this book?)
None of what happened to Jamie is fair, but our acceptance of that starts early, with his harsh banishment. In many ways this is Stoicism/Cruel Optimism the novel.
- Is there a romantic resolution, and how does it function?
There might be a trace of this with Helen, but that’s just one available reading of Helen and Jamie’s friendship. This friendship does perform the same role as a relationship, though. Helen and Jamie are forever sundered, except for visits, with Helen back in her world ageing and dying while Jamie is trapped as this ageless, homeless, self-sacrificing but discontented Peter Pan figure. Their distance is an inverse of the immediate closeness/inter-dimensional marriage of Konstam and Vanessa, which is itself a weird, under-developed proxy for Joris’ obsession with his master Konstam, a dynamic which is only Not Gay because Jones doesn’t really think about gay people in the normal course of things (and to be fair, she doesn’t think much more about heterosexuality, as such: sexuality is of limited interest to her, so she tends to fall into het default settings she doesn’t seem to care about).
- What emotional note does the text close with?
Wistful, bleak, resigned. The first person POV helps ensure that the ending note of the text and the character’s personal outcome are harmonious. It helps that Jamie is a particularly engaging narrator.
- Are your key narrative questions answered in a satisfying manner?
Interestingly we don’t much dwell on Them: what led Them to this course, what the games do and mean for Them, and whether They have any life outside these activities. Which makes sense in a way: we’re choosing not to centre the oppressor. But generally that’s done when we already know one side of the story too well. Here, Their activities are simply outside of our scope of concern.