A Witch's Guide to Magical Innkeeping

“As a collector of rare, powerful spells of dubious legality and even more questionable morality, Clemmie knew all sorts of spells that other people didn’t.”

This description indirectly characterizes Clemmie as morally ambiguous. She has not yet explained her transformation into the form of a fox, but her penchant for legally “dubious” and morally “questionable” spells suggests that she is not an upstanding citizen in the witching world. By extension, she is clearly capable of deceit and selfishness, and she does later lapse and enact a betrayal of Sera on the night of the masquerade at Bertram-Mogg’s estate.

“The Guild was strict, stuffy, and entirely too fond of looking down their noses at everybody. Their snobbery (and the inevitable generations of inbreeding that came with it) meant that of all the witches born in the country each year, the vast majority were born into the fifteen or so families who could trace their magical history all the way back to the founding of the Guild in the 1600s.”

This description characterizes the elitism, racism, and patriarchal mindset of the British Guild of Sorcery, which is clearly more interested in consolidating its power than in fairly governing the magical world. By prioritizing whiteness via family, national, and ethnic “pedigree” rather than treating all young witches equally or striving to embrace diverse backgrounds and abilities, the Guild fails witches like Sera, Luke, and Posy, who do not fit the mainstream mold.

“The magic she’d loved so dearly, and taken so thoroughly for granted, had left her. She didn’t know who she was without it.”

This description of Sera highlights The Inaccuracy of Self-Perception. Sera feels that her magic is her entire identity, so without it, she is unable to figure out who she is; her whole focus is set on regaining her magic, and she regrets having pushed it so far as to break it. She currently thinks of herself in terms of what she is missing rather than what strengths and abilities she still has.

“The house was an albatross around her neck, but it was, nevertheless, her albatross.”

This description of the inn as an “albatross” around Sera’s neck is an allusion to Samuel Coleridge’s poem “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” In that poem, a misguided mariner kills an albatross, a bird of good omen, and the other sailors force him to wear its carcass around his neck as a punishment, just as one might wear a cross. The bird is therefore a symbol of Christ, and given the inn’s association with unconditional love, this symbolism is apt.

“[Sera’s aunt Lilja] couldn’t sleep for fear that Theo would burn the house down or make the hymnbooks dance in church, she’d said, and nothing Sera had said could convince her that witches didn’t actually do things like that in real life. So Sera had flown to Reykjavik, taken one look at Theo standing anxiously at the edge of the room like he was trying not to frighten his parents by saying or doing the wrong thing, and said, ‘You can come stay with me if you like.’”

Theo’s birth family fails to accept him as he is, even making him feel guilty because of their obvious fear of his magical ability. Sera’s immediate offer to include Theo in her household, even before she gets to know him, suggests that she innately understands The Value of Found Family. Despite the trauma that Theo experiences because of his parents’ mistreatment, he finds a new form of belonging with the inn’s varied and loving inhabitants.

“I’m the puppet dancing at the end of his strings, Sera. I always have been. I don’t know how to be different.”

With a hopeless, defeated tone, Francesca uses a bleak metaphor to describe her relationship with her father. Instead of treating her in a loving or nurturing way, he tries to manipulate her into doing his bidding. This scene indirectly characterizes Albert as supremely corrupt because he cannot show softness or love even to his own daughter, let alone to anyone who is different from himself.

“No matter how many times Luke explained that Posy wasn’t trying to be difficult or defiant, nobody else seemed to see it that way. Not even their own parents, whose oft-used argument was ‘but you had some peculiar habits as a young child too, and you grew out of them.’ ‘Stop calling them peculiar habits,’ Luke would reply. ‘She’s autistic.’ ‘You coddle her.’ And repeat.”

This description of Luke’s experience with trying to make others understand Posy’s autism demonstrates the damaging levels of ableism inherent in society. His exchange with his parents also suggests that Luke himself shares similar traits to his sister but was forced to mask them from an early age—hence his parents’ misguided belief that he “grew out of them” and that Posy should too. Instead of forcing his sister to hide her true self, Luke protects her and respects her for who she is. The siblings’ parents should be among those who are most eager to familiarize themselves with her unique challenges and strengths, but instead, they make no effort to understand her neurotype, choosing instead to find fault with Luke’s gentle treatment of her.

“The thing a great many witches never understood about magic was its heart […] [W]hat it wanted was to be loved [and] what it sought and what it repaid, above all else, was love.”

This line demonstrates the link between love and magic. Sera believes that she needs to get her magic back in order to be her true self again, but what she really needs is to realize that love is a form of magic that has extraordinary healing powers. Thus, this association between love and magic is connected to novel’s focus on The Healing Power of Love.

“Visiting her past wasn’t exactly a pleasant stroll down memory lane. It was a lane of teeth, crooked and sharp, and the pleasant stroll was more of a panicked scramble to find what she needed without slicing herself open on the sharpest edges.”

The narrator uses a metaphor to describe Sera’s wry but pain-filled conception of her past and the trauma that she has experienced. Initially, the author employs a common cliché—“memory lane”—but then subverts it with unusual imagery, transforming the figuratively meandering stroll into a dangerous and threatening “scramble.”

“Luke’s voice was a sea in outer space, miles and miles of frozen, unforgiving desolation. ‘It would be the easiest way to keep her safe, but they’d hate it. She’d hate it. So she’s staying with me for now. Our mother assures me we’re more than welcome to visit though.’”

The metaphor in this scene compares Luke’s voice to a desolate “sea in outer space” in order to emphasize the emotional coldness he has learned to adopt in order to protect himself from the rejection that he and Posy both face because of their “peculiar habits,” to use his mother’s phrase. He is not actually unfeeling, but he has conditioned himself to feel nothing because this is easier than allowing himself to be repeatedly hurt by those who ought to love him and Posy the most.

“She ached everywhere, the phantom pain of missing something that had once been there, of closing her eyes and seeing only glimmers of starlight where before there had been galaxies.”

The narrator uses a metaphor to compare the pain of Sera’s missing magic to the “phantom pain” of someone who has lost a limb. This description emphasizes Sera’s intense but misguided belief that she has lost a crucial part of herself and is therefore something less than a whole person.

“The spell’s adaptable. As in, it adapts to the person casting it. Whatever you put into it has to have some kind of meaning to you.”

The adaptable nature of the restoration spell emphasizes the healing power of love. Luke explains to Sera that the ingredients it calls for must hold sentimental value for Sera herself because magic inherently rewards love. Ultimately, the three ingredients all represent love—either Sera’s love of herself or her love for others.

“Well, Luke had just been to all nine circles of hell and lived to tell the tale, so there was that.”

Luke takes Posy to the arcade, a place that she loves but that he loathes because its lights and sounds overwhelm him. The hyperbolic description alludes to Dante’s Inferno, the first part of a three-part epic poem, which tells the story of Dante’s journey through Hell. The comparison of the arcade to Luke’s idea of Hell is an exaggeration, but it emphasizes how significant his sensory challenges are and suggests that he is also on the autism spectrum.

“This place, this inn, which was every bit as batty as its ridiculous name promised, was not reality as Luke knew it. This was a place of fables and stories and peculiar magic, and such a place, he was certain, had no place in the real world. So Luke did not settle. He waited, calmly, icily, resigned, for the fairy tale to end.”

This description characterizes Luke’s reluctance to relax, even when he is in a safe, accepting place. The “real world” has taught him that he will always overstay his welcome, and despite his acknowledgement that the inn is unlike any place he’s ever been, he fears that he will experience the same rejection here. He therefore protects himself emotionally by refusing to allow himself to “settle” down and relax anywhere. He reasons that if he is already planning to leave, it will be less upsetting to learn that someone wants him to go.

“As a child with a disability her family had considered ugly, Jasmine had often been alone […] As far as her family was concerned, pets left messes, and messes, like clubfooted daughters, were unsightly.”

Jasmine’s experiences as a child convinced her that she shouldn’t be seen and that no one will find her attractive. She even comes to accept that living with pain is normal. Because her unkind view of herself clashes with her sweet nature, this inner struggle demonstrates the inaccuracy of self-perception. She lacks a clear view of herself and what her life could be like, despite Sera’s reminders. However, Matilda’s love eventually helps heal Jasmine’s inaccurate sense of self, further emphasizing the healing power of love.

“‘Did Matilda tell you I needed a friend?’ Nicholas asked, unexpectedly perceptive. ‘She might have.’ Nicholas grinned. ‘She told me the same thing about you.’”

Matilda’s love of meddling in the lives of the inn’s other lodgers is evident in this exchange between Nicholas and Luke. Not only does she want them both to have a friend, but they are also both willing to step into this role, making it clear that they prize the value of found family. Even when their own relatives have failed to support them, their found family at the Batty Hole is happy to do so.

“‘But you do know the joke’s on them? Because the whole point of the book is the Tin Woodman thinks he doesn’t have a heart, but the whole time he’s actually the one with the most heart.’ His eyes met hers. There, in the glacier blue, between one blink and the next, she saw something raw and dark and heart-breakingly surprised.”

In this passage, Sera tries to help Luke reframe and reclaim the epithet of “Tin Man” that his detractors have applied to him. She reassures Luke that he doesn’t lack heart, as the Tin Man in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz falsely believes of himself. In reevaluating the allusion that Luke’s peers used to describe him, she flips the image on its head by asserting that the Tin Man is the most loving of all the characters. Luke’s raw vulnerability ironically makes him susceptible to believing his peers’ abusive assertions, and the scene provides more evidence of the inaccuracy of self-perception.

“He didn’t belong here, any more than he’d ever belonged anywhere else, but for the first time in thirty-four years, oh, how he wished he did.”

Although Luke sees the love that the lodgers have for one another and very much wants to fit in, he does not believe that he ever will, and his sense of isolation stems largely from the inaccuracy of self-perception. Ultimately, his new friends’ insights into his character will improve his sense of self-worth and help him realize how healing a found family’s love can be.

“And that’s what it’s been like ever since. Like little pieces of me keep chipping away, bit by bit, and each time something goes, that version of me dies […] It’s like the world gets just a little less magical each time, and I get a little smaller.”

Sera also struggles to see herself as she really is. Like Luke and Jasmine, she underestimates her value at the inn and in life, and she feels that as she ages without her magic, she gets smaller and less significant. However, everyone at the inn recognizes just how capable and worthy of love she really is. Her love is what sustains the inn’s magic, but Sera’s inability to recognize this reflects her own unique struggle with the inaccuracy of self-perception.

“Luke, hasn’t it occurred to you that maybe the reason Posy hasn’t yet changed is you? You didn’t have anybody when you were her age, but she’s always had you. Hasn’t it occurred to you that maybe you’re the reason she’s still herself?”

As Sera grows to love Luke, she tries to help him see the worth of his own strengths, and she offers him a more loving explanation for his current position in the world. Eventually, her words hit home—especially after Howard echoes them—and he realizes that he loves Sera and wants to be with her. The healing power of love finally allows him to make himself vulnerable in a way that he has avoided for many years.

“You fight. You fight everything. Everything you just told me, about the night sky and the lost magic […] is a story you tell because you think it’s about how small you’ve become, but what I heard was a story about how you’re anything but small. You fight.”

As Luke grows to love Sera, he tries to point out her inaccurate view of herself. She feels that she is become “smaller,” but he sees her as a fighter and as someone who inspires him to find greater depths of bravery. Eventually, she learns to see herself in a more complimentary way, further demonstrating love’s healing powers.

“You haven’t, er, had the easiest time fitting in anywhere you’ve been. That doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again. You don’t have to exit, stage right, before you’ve even been asked to go.”

Howard echoes Sera’s assessment of Luke’s tendency to leave a place behind before he can be told that he has become a burden. Luke has been taught to think of himself as “too much,” so he automatically anticipates other people coming to the same conclusion. However, upon hearing encouraging observations from both Howard and Sera, Luke finally accepts that they are right.

“‘You didn’t leave me at all, did you?’ Her voice broke. ‘I thought you were haunting me, reminding me of what I’d lost, but that’s not it, is it? You were trying to show me you never left. You were trying to tell me you’ve been here all along.’”

When Nicholas tells Sera that he always thought her necklace depicted a “firebird,” she realizes that she is the phoenix whose “feather” the adaptable restoration spell requires. This moment depicts the realization that changes her trajectory and demonstrates her dynamism. She no longer views past versions of herself as deserters or tormentors; instead, she sees them as versions of herself that have paved the way to her current lifestyle and identity as a loving, valued, worthwhile person on whom the other lodgers rely.