The Hallmarked Man Real-time Re-read Finale, Chapters 126-127: A margarine tub and--- some broccoli?

The Hallmarked Man closed on April 7th, 2017. I am closing my in-depth re-read exactly nine years later. It's been a great ride and I am thankful to all who have followed since the start of The Hallmarked Man Advent Adventure back in early December. 

My plan is to review the last two chapters here. Then, later in the week, I'll post a round-up on how my impressions changed with the re-read, and where I think The Hallmarked Man stacks up in relationship to the rest of the series 

“In a way," said Decima Mullins, "I feel as though he did die.”

Thus begins Chapter 126, possibly the saddest closing wrap-up in the series. We already know the sad endings to two of the Wright candidates, with Semple's suicide and Powell's brutal murder. We see Decima here, wishing she'd never have found out the truth about her son't parentage and still clearly having strong feelings and desire for the man that she can never have. The best they can hope for is a platonic relationship as they strive to raise their child together and debate for the next dozen years or so whether it would be better or worse for him to know the truth about his parentage. The only comfort Strike can give her is the knowledge that her persistence in pursuing the case revealed the truth about both Semple and Powell, and, perhaps more importantly, rescued Sapphire Neagle from a terrible fate. Strike and Robin, naturally, promise never to reveal the secret about the incest and fortunately, mouthy subcontractors like KFC never found out. 

Still, Strike and Robin are in rather bleak moods at the close of the meeting, as they ponder the multiple unfortunate people involved in the case. 

“It’s awful, isn’t it?"

"Could be better," admitted Strike.

"I think they’re going to love each other for ever and never be able to do anything about it."

Trying to dissemble the feeling of depression Robin’s words had just given him, Strike said, "Want a coffee?”

Indeed, unlike the cheery bubble-filled reunion of the Edensor family in the last book, there are few happy endings with this case. 

“Been wall-to-wall star-crossed lovers, this case, hasn’t it?" he said, preferring to get off the subject of his own physical decrepitude.

"It has," Robin agreed. "Rupert and Decima. The Semples. Pamela Bullen-Driscoll and her husband…"

Strike grinned, but said more seriously, "And Tyler and Jolanda… it was that fucking bracelet that screwed them. Griffiths might’ve had his suspicions she was getting too close to Tyler, but the bracelet was the big mistake.”

So, as if Tyler and Jolanda's deaths weren't tragic enough, especially with the horror that was Jolanda's life after her mother's murder, we see that what directly doomed both of them was Tyler's sentimental choice to buy her a bracelet representing her real identity. There's a strong sense of waste, along with the tragedy of their deaths, 

As the door closed behind the office manager, Strike gestured at Robin’s dress. "Going somewhere nice?"

"Yes," she said, without looking at him. "It’s Ryan’s birthday. We’re going to the Ritz – the restaurant," she added quickly, in an attempt to turn both their thoughts away from the bar.

It is rather fitting that Robin is wearing the pink high-necked dress she originally bought to hide her bruises, since she's hiding so much from Strike---  and attempting to deceive herself---about her true feelings about this upcoming dinner.

And Strike decides, at the very last second, that he cannot let her go. 

Strike was suddenly flooded with adrenaline. He might have been back on that yellow dirt track, knowing what was about to happen, because he’d spotted the youth who’d planted the IED running away from the road, dragging a small boy he was determined to pull clear of the imminent explosion. He’d yelled "brake", but too late to avoid calamity.

He was almost certainly too late now. Nevertheless, he wrenched open the glass door.

So, we are back at Chapter 127.  Somewhat unexpectedly, I found myself feeling about this chapter as I sometimes do about parts of Career of Evil, which was, until THM came along, my least favorite of the series.  In particular, I find it hard to re-read 

• The Royal Wedding scene when Robin takes back the Flobberworm
• The physical fight where Robin gets pummeled by Alyssa. 
• The scene where Strike fires Robin. 

I found that I really didn't want to re-read Chapter 127, either and, even after I did so,  I certainly didn't want to do another detailed blog post about it. So, I'm going to suggest that people who want that level of analysis go back and read my original response. 

Looking over that earlier post, I find my feelings haven't changed much. In general, the re-read made me feel more sympathetic to Robin, as the extent of her PTSD was much more apparent on the re-read. But, the improved understanding of her mental health made the whole "easily remedied" part seem that much more cringy. 

I still love that Pat overheard and circled back to give Strike some wise womanly advice here.  However Sleep Tight, Evangeline picks up, I really hope Pat is involved in some way in bringing Strike and Robin back together. As badly as Pat has misjudged Robin's romantic feelings in the past:  thinking she was "keen on" Morris, for instance, and suggesting she wrangle flowers out of Murphy when he ran late at the end of TRG. it is wonderful to see her recognizing that Robin has not been happy with RFM recently, and telling Strike so. 

So, rather than re-analyze the encounter on the stairs, I'm going to close this re-read as Strike closed The Hallmarked Man, with a special focus on Cormoran, the black oranda goldfish of Denmark Street. 

First of all, let me make it clear that I absolutely love the office fish tank, and especially Strike's namesake oranda. My friend Elizabeth Baird-Hardy* told me she thinks Cormoranda deserves his own Youtube channel, and I agree. The fish tank and its inhabitants give us some of the most important, if not exactly subtle, pieces of symbolism in the series. First, the black oranda gives us a visual representation of Strike's inner transformation, as he struggles to stop sabotaging himself as regards his love and desire for Robin. Second, as is fitting for a series where the protagonist's newfound sister is a Jungian psychotherapist, the fish---  particularly the black fish, reminds us that, despite the ever-presence of that classic albedo metal, silver, The Hallmarked Man is, at heart, a nigredo book, primarily for Robin, who is broken down emotionally and loses so much that matters to her, from Rowntree to the Land Rover to her fertility to her trust in Strike. But, it is also nigredo for Strike, who starts the series dealing with the loss of Ted, and comes close to losing the agency thanks to his own sexual indiscretions. Strike even, at the height of his terror at the prospect of being Bijou's baby-daddy,  “for a fraction of a second, imagined stepping out in front of [a double-decker bus], and erasing himself and every problem along with him, of being lost in black nothingness, in a state of blissful non-being.”  

As this essay (helpfully shared by the Strike and Ellacott Files) explains, to Jungians, the fish is a well-known representation of the murky nigredo beginning of the alchemical cycle. 

For centuries, alchemists, mystics, and psychologists like Carl Jung have explored the profound parallels between nature’s cycles and the soul’s journey. Winter, in this symbolic context, mirrors the alchemical nigredo—the blackening phase where all that is unnecessary dissolves, preparing the way for renewal.
At the heart of this journey lies the fish, a powerful symbol in alchemy and Jungian psychology. Whether carrying the philosopher’s stone in its belly or swimming through the unconscious, the fish represents the raw, transformative energy that propels individuation. Its dual nature as both mover and bearer of hidden treasures reflects the challenges and rewards of descending into the labyrinth of the soul.
Winter aligns with the nigredo, the first stage of the alchemical process, which Jung described as a “descent into darkness.” The frozen stillness of winter mirrors the psychological state of confronting the shadow and unconscious contents—paralleling the fish’s retreat into the deep waters beneath the ice.

In my opinion, the best essay currently available on Jungian alchemy in the Strike series is Iris's, found here.  Plenty of people have written about alchemy in Rowling/Galbraith novels before---  see Iris's essay for a helpful list--- but she takes it to the next level and into a sub-category of alchemy that is needed right now, given the introduction of Prudence as a Jungian therapist character and the fact that Robin is starting therapy with someone Prudence recommended to her. I especially appreciated Iris's discussion of the cyclic, rather than linear, nature of the alchemical transformations of our heroes. As I have argued elsewhere, Robin actually underwent an reverse alchemical transformation during the first three books of the series. Strike, for his part, experienced a nigredo-like breakdown emotionally in Troubled Blood and physically in The Ink Black Heart.  He underwent an albedo-purification in The Running Grave, losing weight, stopping smoking and, post-Bijou, giving up his "distraction and instant gratification" approach to women.  This cleansing culminates in his seeking comfort after Charlotte's death in St. John the Baptist church on St. John the Baptist's feast day, followed by his chaste night with Robin after her rescue. I fully expected the albedo to continue in The Hallmarked Man, especially given all the early hints about refined silver, but both protagonists appeared to circle around and start the cycle again with nigredo, as is fitting for a winter book. With the April ending and spring on the horizon, hopefully we'll see the cleansing purification begin again in Sleep Tight, Evangeline. 

Let's move to from the general alchemical symbolism of the fish to the specific reflections of their namesake detectives.  First of all, Pat named the gold one Robin and the black one Cormoran. Like I said before, the symbolism is not meant to be subtle. The Robin fish is, per Pat, the only one that doesn't "make trouble." This certainly fits our titian-haired temp, particularly in this book, as the SE Files nailed in a recent podcast. Robin knows from her previous therapy that she grew up as the "good child" of her family.

• Her reluctance to "rock the boat" is the reason she fulfilled her family's expectation and gave up her dream of detecting after her rape. 
• It was the reason she went along with the marriage to the Flobberworm, when every aspect of the planning was making her miserable. 
• It was the reason she couldn't bring herself to tell Matthew she was leaving him while he was delirious with fever in the Maldives and thus got stuck in a marriage that she knew wasn't right.  
• And, it's the reason she continues to stick by RFM and even make plans to cohabitate with him all throughout THM. 

Robin can't even stand riding in a rocking boat; hence her nearly getting seasick on the ferry to Sark. Her excessive people-pleasing tendencies are sabotaging her own development and quest for her true love, much as Strike's sexual casualness and inability to state his feelings has sabotaged his prospects with Robin. For me, the implication is, if the Robin-fish is going to be a visual representation of Robin's self-improvement in the same way the Cormoranda is for Strike,  it's going to have to learn to make some trouble---hopefully not in the same way Travolta did. Perhaps Pat will toss some shrimp or snails into the tank to clean it and the Robin fish will eat them. Or maybe it will take a few bites out of Elton. 

Onto Strike's finny namesake:  The human/fish  duplication is obvious from the beginning, as Strike's distaste for the fish's knobbly head growth echoes his dislike of his own "pube-head."  Wardle, when he sees it flailing upside down on the surface of the water, calls it a "greedy little bastard" and Strike, (who, as Tara reminded us, is a literal bastard) calls it a "stupid little fucker," later in that same chapter.  Unfortunately for Strike, his own history of being a "greedy fucker" (Like Robin, I won't call him "little") is what has put Robin in a position where she can't consider him a safe option as a permanent romantic partner. Remember what Robin says on the stairs. 

“Every single time we got – even slightly close to – you pushed me away and went off screwing other women."

"Not lately," said Strike. 

and

“And you expect me to just throw away a two-year relationship, so I can be the latest woman you get bored with after a couple of months, do you?”

In the seven years she's known Strike, Robin has only seen him in one relationship that could be considered "long-term"--  Lorelei, whom Strike was with for a year. And, thanks to her accidental glimpse of the text message, Robin knows that, by the end, Lorelei was feeling used, like a "restaurant and brothel."  The other women she knows about are the one night with Ciara, the three nights with Nina (which Strike kept secret from her), the five months with Elin, the five months with Madeline and the two nights with Bijou. "Not lately" is clearly not enough to reassure her at this point that Strike's been "cured of the practice" of what Ilsa calls "displacement fucks" and what Strike himself calls "misguided exercises in distraction and instant gratification."

The fish that endangers its life by greedily gulping in air while feeding at the surface of the tank is a representation of how Strike has self-sabotaged his pursuit of Robin. His use of the peas to "set things to right" is an indicator that he wants to change his ways. Like his namesake, Strike hasn't succeeded by book's end, but the second trip upstairs for the margarine tub and the peas is good evidence that he is going to keep trying. Trying to revive a dying fish is an interesting contrast with the man for whom two of the very few items he kept from the effects of his beloved uncle were associated with catching (hat) and killing (priest) fish. 

I stand by my earlier statement that Cormoranda, contrary to what might be expected of a literary fish, does not make a convincing Christ symbol**.  As I am composing this post on Easter weekend, it seems appropriate to delve into this point a bit further. There are several major reasons that, despite the fishy's near-death experiences and its positive effect on Strike, Cormoranda falls short as a true Christ symbol.  

• The first is the fact that the fish has Cormoran's name. He is, as Nick Jeffrey put in in our Three Broomsticks post, Strike's "goldfish twin." Strike may be called the fish's "reluctant savior" but, just as Pat saw Strike's hair in the fish's head knob, Strike is clearly meant to see himself in the fish he is trying to rescue. A core belief in a Christian worldview is that individual sinners cannot save themselves. To identify Cormoran Strike so closely with Cormoran Fish works for a representation of Strike's past mistakes and his own efforts attempts to correct them and improve himself: worthy objectives for Mr. Team Rational. It does not work for a Christian idea of salvation through Christ alone, by grace alone. 
• Second, the clearest Christ figures, like Sydney Carton of A Tale of Two Cities, Aslan in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe or even Harry Potter in Deathly Hallows, voluntarily choose to let another kill them.  Cormoran Fish accidentally swallowed air while "greedily" gulping down food. Strike characterizes him as a "stupid arsehole" who's "done it to your fucking self." There's nothing voluntary or self-sacrificing about it. 
• Besides, as Beatrice Groves pointed out on the same Three Broomsticks podcast (see above), it's not the fish's fault its owners aren't feeding it correctly. 
• Third, Cormoran Fish goes belly-up twice and has to be "resurrected" by the laxative action of mashed pea twice. I am not aware of any other literary Christ figure who "dies" more than once. As said in Hebrews 10:10, "By that will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all." 

As I've said earlier, I think there will be a few other doomed "John" fish---  perhaps some white or yellow ones to represent other alchemical stages, before Pat decides that the tank is, after all, plenty full with just Cormoran and Robin. The only question is, how much more pea-therapy with the Cormoran Fish need, and what will happen to the Robin Fish as our Robin works on her own mental health? 

Amusingly, broccoli is a recommended food for supplementing a goldfish diet. 

I'll be back later this week for some final re-read thoughts. 

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*Elizabeth's book on The Hunger Games is due for publication in July!  

** This is not the first time that expectations of a Christ figure have been thwarted. Remember The Silkworm's Christian Fisher ("I will make you fishers of men") of Crossfire Publishing? If any character had a name that suggested Christ figure, it was him. But, he turned out not to even be an especially important character. His main purpose was to inform Strike about  Bombyx Mori controversy, as a more objective party than Liz Tassel or anyone from Roper Chard could have been  and to be a means through which someone outside of Quine's publisher and agency could have learned the books' contents, thereby widening the suspect pool. At the end, he wasn't even a credible suspect and made only one brief appearance at the start of the mystery