Monday, 12 April 2010

Rumo And His Miraculous Adventures

Walter Moers' books have been described as 'children's stories for adults'. Certainly they represent a fusion of childlike fantasy with fairly sophisticated wit that might more often be associated with the older reader. As such, they are a total pleasure to read. Rumo is no exception.


Set in the world of Zamonia, like the other Moers' novels, a place inhabited by anthropomorphised dinosaurs and beasts, the novel tells the story of its eponymous hero, from his birth, through to his many, as indicated in the title, miraculous adventures. Rumo is a Wolperting, half-deer, half-wolf, possessed with exceptional senses and combat abilities, razor sharp teeth and horns. From his initial capture and imprisonment, through to finding some sense of belonging in the city of Wolperting (suitably named, no?), to his quest to Netherworld, at every turn we see Rumo confronted by fearsome villains and no small dose of humour. Part of what makes the story so compelling is that while there is no lack of cynicism from the narrator, and from various sub-narrators who tell length stories explaining myths and history of Zamonia, essentially we are led both to support and care for Rumo. While the setting may be anti-heroic, while we may laugh at the absurdity of it all, yet I still found myself rooting for Rumo and hoping all would be all right in the end.


There's a host of characters to laugh at, besides. Smyke, the grandiloquent shark-grub who teaches Rumo much about fighting, along with everything else; Professor Nightingale, nocturnomath, essential both for plot development and a bit of a giggle at the 'academic' stereotype; Urshan deLucca, fencing master who's totally obsessed with the weather, and finds Netherworld, horrific as it is, an absolute delight, because it's free of atmospheric pressure and the like; the Copper Killers, alchemical robots that can't be stopped. As a work of imagination, Rumo is simply bewildering, but not at the price of engagement. Indeed, it's all consuming rather than off-putting, and one is drawn into the web of stories. As the threads come together in the denouement, I found myself nearly slapping a thigh in satisfaction; when I tried to explain to a friend what was so satisfying, I realised there were too many details to explain to make it worthwhile. I plonked the completed book in his lap instead. 


A joy to read, and mirthfully illustrated to boot.


~~~
2004
Walter Moers, translated by John Brownjohn