Fool Moon

With a title like Fool Moon, you can likely guess who the denizens might be in the second book of the Dresden Files series by Jim Butcher.

Similarly, you can likely guess who the denizens might be in the second book of the (vampire) Twilight Series with the title New Moon.

If you haven’t guessed it by now, yes, werewolves show up prominently in the story. Harry Dresden, the main protagonist, learns that there are several kinds of werewolves with different origins. I found the subject mildly interesting, at least in terms of the division between internal transformation through one’s own magic versus external transformations with a talisman or some other magical source. Other than that, there wasn’t much I learned about the theory of magic in Dresden’s world except for what distinguishes non-verbal spells from spoken incantations, and what it feels like to cast a non-verbal spell without a focusing agent.

More on that in a moment, but first a detour into Harry Potter’s world of magic. In the sixth book, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, non-verbal spells come up for the first time. The scene is Snape’s N.E.W.T. level Defense of the Dark Arts classroom. Snape begins the lesson: “… you are, I believe novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?”

Hermione, the fount of knowledge, replies: “Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you’re about to perform, which gives you a split-second advantage.” Snape dismissively agrees and elaborates. “Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some… lack.” Snape is sneering at Harry while saying this after Occlumency-Legilimency lessons the previous year. (For a connection between Legilimency and fMRI, see here.)

However, a wand is still needed to perform that magic with a non-verbal spell. Without a wand, the wizard is essentially powerless when it comes to spellcasting. Thus, the frequent use of expelliarmus to disarm the wizard by removing the wand from their hands. I’ve speculated on the wand as a conduit of power in a previous post. It is possible to do magic without a wand, although somewhat uncontrollably. Harry does this as a child before he attends Hogwarts especially in periods of high stress.

In Fool Moon, Harry Dresden finds himself in a wand-less situation. He’s without his staff, and after being shot, and beat up earlier in the day, Dresden is at present being strangled by a much stronger assailant. The one thing I like about these novels is that they are all written from Dresden’s point of view – so you get to see what he’s thinking and how he works magic. Here are the relevant passages (in italics).

I stopped trying to struggle against the man who was choking me. Instead, I grabbed his wrist and prepared to do something foolish…

Magic is a kind of energy. It is given shape by human thoughts and emotions, by imagination. Thoughts define that shape – and words help to define those thoughts. That’s why wizards usually use words to help them with their spells. Words provide a sort of insulation as the energy of magic burns through a spell caster’s mind. If you use words that you’re too familiar with, words that are so close to your thoughts that you have trouble separating thought from word, that insulation is very thin. So most wizards use words from ancient languages they don’t know very well, or else they make up nonsense words and mentally attach their meanings to a particular effect. That way, a wizard’s mind has an extra layer of protection against magical energies coursing through it.

But you can work magic without words, without insulation for your mind. If you’re not afraid of it hurting a little…

Two things happened. First, a rush of blinding thought, brilliant and wild and jangling, went through my head. My eyes swam with color, my ears with phantom sound. My senses were assaulted with a myriad of impressions: the sharp scent of the earth and dry leaves, … dozens of others I couldn’t identify. They were a side effect of the energy rushing through my head.

The second thing that happened was a surge of electricity gathered from the air round me to my fingertips, gripped on my attacker’s wrist, and surged up through his arm and into his body…

There are several interesting things in this account. For one, magic is classified as a kind of energy – and Dresden’s constant fouling up of electrical devices suggests electromagnetic radiation as a conduit of magical energy. Being able to use one’s mind to focus on shaping the spell is crucial, as I’ve speculated before about the nature of spellcasting. Words, according to Dresden help provide insulation to one’s mind and therefore it is better not to use words in one’s normal everyday spoken language. Perhaps this is why Latin and other portmanteau language combos were chosen in Harry Potter? You also get to see what casting a spell feels like. The main effect seems to be heightened senses, a reasonable side-effect when one is focused, in a stressful situation, and ‘time seems to slow down’ such that you notice every little thing. The book also portrays the limits and use of energy in spellcasting. When Dresden runs out of energy, he has problems effecting magic.

Other than that, Fool Moon has the same noir detective feel as the first book. Overall, I found it a little less interesting. Perhaps the novelty has worn off, and that’s always the challenge with sequels.