The cover of “Keeper of Enchanted Rooms” (2022) features a soft, inviting drawing of the house where the magical events take place, and the book opens with a list of the types of magic skill sets in this world (it’s the first of the Whimbrel House quadrilogy). A substantial opening chunk is devoted to owner Merritt and housekeeper Hulda investigating the isolated Rhode Island house in the 19th century that playfully changes stairs to a slide, drips blood from the ceiling and sometimes locks them in.
Though the publicity materials don’t say “cozy fantasy” (my book club’s category for this month), “Enchanted Rooms” feels calibrated to that tone. Author Charlie N. Holmberg knows how to do it, as this is her 17th novel. I have no indisputable evidence she’s aiming for a proscribed target, but if one thinks that an author who outlines 11 “doctrines of magic” is going to unleash an explosion of wildly engrossing world-building, they’re in for a disappointment.
“Keeper of Enchanted Rooms” is cozy in the sense that it’s entirely safe from surprises or threats that fall outside the zone of cliches. (There are indeed threats, but it’s obvious from the start they will come from dark wizard Silas, explored in initially non-connected chapters. With the usual tragic backstory of being beaten by his father, he’s a familiar threat from a reader’s POV, even if he’s technically a deadly threat to the protagonists.)
“Keeper of Enchanted Rooms” (2022)
Author: Charlie N. Holmberg
Series: Whimbrel House No. 1
Genres: Fantasy, romance
Setting: 19th century, Rhode Island
Note to readers: The Book Club Book Report series features books I’m reading for my book club, Brilliant Bookworms.
To me, “cozy fantasy” invokes something like Harry, Ron and Hermione researching in the Gryffindor common room. The coziness comes from me being safe while reading it, but the characters live in a dangerous world. The coziest authors on my reading list are Preston & Child, as I can count on their comfortingly familiar wackadoo science but won’t know precisely where things are going.
(Genres are arbitrary, admittedly. I would’ve guessed “Enchanted Rooms” is without a doubt Young Adult. But I see that genre listed nowhere in the writings about this book. Still, I gotta think someone newer to reading will be the ideal audience.)
Owners of lonely hearts
About a third of the way in, “Enchanted Rooms” picks up by no longer being a house tour. But it’s not because of physical danger from Merritt being trapped in the crawl space, or from reaching under the entire house for a stone as the ghost tilts the structure up, or even from the looming threat of Silas.
Instead, it picks up because Merritt, a bachelor author, becomes attracted to Hulda, the titular housekeeper sent by BIKER (Boston Institute for the Keeping of Enchanted Rooms). (He doesn’t have to pay for the service; presumably it’s a charitable nonprofit agency). And the icy Hulda starts to thaw toward him. He catches a glimpse of a milky breast, she steals a peek at a hairy chest.
Which isn’t to say “Enchanted Rooms” is a bodice-ripper. Switching perspectives between the two leads, Holmberg is sharp at describing the delicate dance between two previously wounded lovebirds. Every heart-leaping moment of hope is buried under two heart-dropping moments of doubt. As readers, we have the omniscient perspective that they like each other; Merritt and Hulda are denied that.
The book’s primary page-turning attribute is the question of if (pretty easy to answer) and how (additional wrinkles here) they will pair up. It’s the 19th century, so of course Merritt will have to make the big move. (SPOILERS FOLLOW.) He does so by writing a short story to Hulda that recounts their journey, made cutesy by changing her name to Competence. (Which I suppose would be flattering if you’re saddled with “Hulda.”) This two-page story provides similar fluttery-heart romance to the duo’s actual story. (END OF SPOILERS.)
The magic is taken out of the magic
I’m not saying “Enchanted Rooms” should be two pages instead of its 327, but let’s just say the romance probably takes up 100 pages, and I don’t care about the other stuff. Hulda’s boss, a house maid, a house chef and the ghost are broadly likeable, but I wonder if they disappear into the ether when Hulda and Merritt don’t need them.
In a textbook sense, there’s creative magic here, but weirdly – for example – a house-haunting spirit turning into a dog isn’t all that remarkable. Even the accidental moral dilemma created by a ghost robbing a sentient being of his body doesn’t land. There’s something about the shallowness of “Enchanted Rooms” that blocks even accidental deeper thinking.
Mystery is also one of the novel’s subgenres, but more in the sense of learning information than following clues. The explanation of Merritt’s crushing breakup with his first love is surprisingly dramatic once we hear it, rather than being a mundane case of “She’s just not that into him.”
But outside of that, answers are simple. Consider these brain-teasers. (SPOILERS FOLLOW.) One, Merritt and Hulda are looking to find out what ghost possesses the house, so they search the grounds for tombstones. They find them. And two, Hulda wants to know Merritt’s family background. So she goes to the town records room and looks it up. (END OF SPOILERS.)
Well, at least “Keeper of Enchanted Rooms” can’t be accused of being overly complex. Among the 11 doctrines of magic, more than half don’t come into play. I imagine they will later in the series; Holmberg is planning something out. But – even if the end result smoothly slots into good-versus-evil and other Campbellian rules of myth, like “Harry Potter” does — the best cozy fantasy shouldn’t feel so rote.