The transforming raven was speaking to him as magical beings speak to one another, sharing thoughts. The insanity of the magic Jared had unleashed left him with no way to deny he was a Trickster himself, that he was a part of the crazy, that his amateur dabbling had created the shitstorm that had eventually landed him in Emerg. Again.
Return of the Trickster is a completely satisfying conclusion to Eden Robinson’s Trickster series. Once again, teenaged Jared Martin faces unspeakable dangers with love, courage, and above all, decency. He is also snarky and irreverent and this is probably the funniest volume in the trilogy. As in any good Fantasy finale, Robinson brings back old characters, reveals the history behind long standing feuds, and marches her characters towards an epic showdown between shades of good and evil. Maybe I can agree with others who think the ending and epilogue are a little rushed, and maybe I would have liked for Jared to be less drained and helpless than he was through most of this, but I leave this book, and this trilogy, feeling entertained and satiated; I can ask for no more.
Not a single person he knew was going to be happy about his new shape-shifting ability. No one liked his biological father. Not his mom, not his grandmother, and not his new friend, Neeka, whose otter people had a bad history with him. Certainly not the thing that had been claiming to be his aunt. Was she really? He hadn't thought to ask, being in the middle of a kidnapping and then a torture session that had apparently only lasted a weekend but had felt like forever.
After being sucked into another dimension in Trickster Drift — where he was repeatedly killed, eaten, and brought back to life to be killed and eaten once again — Jared finds himself in a hospital room at the beginning of Return of the Trickster, his organs trying to escape his body. Getting back to our dimension apparently drained Jared of his Trickster magic, and as enemies and their henchmen escalate their threats against him and his loved ones, Jared is forced to accept alliances that feel out of his control, recommit to his sobriety, and attempt to protect his family while swooning around without power, energy, or a clear mind. Being a newly confirmed Trickster alienates Jared from his mom and both of his grannies (who all have history with his father, Wee’git), but when the danger escalates, Jared will find himself surrounded by strong allies (mostly women, mostly family). The heart-thumping, gruesome conclusion sees a showdown between: Tricksters and witches and a Wild Man of the Woods; fireflies and otters (even though they’re not really fireflies or otters); coy wolves (disguised in stolen human skins); ghosts and poltergeists and other ultradimensional beings; a toe-sucking Sorcerer (“raw need in a skin-suit crawling around in the dark”); an insatiably power-hungry Ogress; and perhaps most frightening of all, Jared’s own grandmother, the Halayt Sophia.
The root of supernatural ability is simply the realization that all time exists simultaneously. Encoded memories so frayed you think they’re extinct, but they wait, coiled and unblinking, in your blood and your bones. When you shift out of our dimension, you run the risk of dispersion so profound even the memory of you is obliterated. Universes are stubbornly separate. You are the wet and pulsing distillation of stars, a house of light made bipedal and carbon-based, temporary and infinite. You are also the void.
I love this world that Robinson has built out of her Haisla and Heiltsuk First Nations’ traditions, and while I am fascinated by the supernatural entities at the center of this story, I appreciate that Robinson also brings in details from real Natives’ lives — from the rez to environmental activism to dissatisfaction with attempts at reconciliation for residential school survivors. Jared’s snark keeps all of this light, though — he and his cousin, Kota, think that you could make a decent soap opera out of their family drama, As the Bannock Burns — and I think the most entertaining thing about this book was flipping back to read Robinson’s ironic chapter titles at the end of every one because they only make sense in hindsight (my favourite was “Cthulhu Do Do Do Do Do Do”). I’m completely satisfied with the whole trilogy and if Robinson decided to write some spinoffs, I’d read those, too.
