Marcus Sedgwick

Today I read of the death of Marcus Sedgwick, a death which has taken the literary world by surprise. I am on frequent record as saying that his books were not for me, but that I thought he was a superb writer who used language like music, leaving the reader richer for being exposed to his brilliance. His death doesn’t change either of my opinions, but it does remind me of the one glorious exception where my appreciation of his skill and enjoyment of a book met: Blood Red Snow White.

It is set in revolutionary Russia and tells the purportedly true story of a British secret agent, an agent who went on to become one of Britain’s most famous writers.  That man was Arthur Ransome who, whatever the truth of his life in Russia, had a past that his publisher would not have wanted to become common knowledge. And nor would his fictional friends, the Swallows and the Amazons, have approved of him.  In 1937, however, he was awarded the very first Carnegie Medal for Pigeon Post and Marcus was a writer who deserved to follow in his footsteps for his very different books.

I don’t like the kind of books Marcus Sedgwick writes; they’re dark and difficult and often peopled by vampires and other creatures of the night and that’s just not for me.  In spite of that, though, I can’t resist reading them because Marcus Sedgwick is such a good writer.  Somehow he manages to draw me in.  

I was fortunate to meet Marcus a couple of times, once at a Carnegie Medal award ceremony and once at a festival I was involved in putting together at the original Carnegie Library in Dunfermline. The festival was a celebration of the Medal, and Marcus came to talk about Blood Red Snow White. It captures the essence of a folk tale. But this is juxtaposed with the elements of a thriller. And each is executed superbly well, causing the reader to swing between two sets of emotions and impressions of Russia.

I cannot honestly say that I will miss Marcus Sedgwick’s books, but I will miss his ability to use and manipulate language, his brilliance at evoking setting and emotion, and the charming man I met and (sad to say given that I was in my professional persona) gushed over.