A Retrospective on Deltora Quest

Join Katrina Wang on the quest for the Belt of Deltora as she reminisces on this childhood classic.

Remembered like a strange, half-dreamt memory, Emily Rodda's series Deltora Quest is, dare I say, a staple of many Australian childhoods from the 2000s. The covers depicting wild, fantastical and wholly unique monsters are a stark memory in my mind, and for those who have watched the Japanese anime adaptation, the opening notes are a chorus of quite literal bells, clear and resonating and the opening of an oh so familiar doorway back to childhood mystery and fantastical worlds. Surprisingly popular in not only Australia and New Zealand but also across Japan, the much-loved yet little-talked-about series has gotten not just a TV series adaptation by the same studio that made Berserk, but also a manga series and a Nintendo DS game, which, unfortunately, is not available in English.

The premise may seem extraordinarily simple at first glance. This fictional land of Deltora is riddled with strife. Poverty and violence reign the broken lands, and when we enter it, it is to find and travel alongside three companions to fetch seven powerful gems stolen from the Belt of Deltora, guarded by gruesome, deadly beasts. They must find the true heir to the throne, the only one who can wield the Belt of Deltora and finally defeat the Shadow Lord.

Simple. Oh so simple and sounds like a nice, sweet adventure story. You fight some monsters, retrieve the Belt of Deltora, save the kingdom and live in peace ever after! Wrong.

That, friends and foes and those to be determined later, is called a gross oversimplification.

To begin with, the world-building is peculiarly satisfying, tight and concise in execution. Part of the joy is exploring these different regions and people who live there; the differences in how they live, how they survive in the war-ravaged land, distinct and unbelievably large in the other unwritten histories that lurk just outside of the printed words. Another is the twists and turns of the journey we travel through alongside our main trio. Not there simply for shock value or to drag out the book longer, Rodda crafts intricate and often deadly experiences that, even upon re-reading from a cynical grown-up perspective, still manage to surprise me. And when I mean deadly, I mean deadly. Shockingly dark for her target audiences, the series ties together themes of power in unchecked hands to power from unity, and the stark realness as characters survive poverty and famine in a way that I have only come to appreciate more and more. And there isn’t a “happily ever after” after the first Detlora Quest. The second and third following series only showcase a grittier, darker look into the after-effects of the Shadowlord’s reign. Lief and his companions are picking through the pieces of their land, trying to salvage what is left. There is no true peace — not yet, not for a long time.

The beating heart of this story is not fighting monsters. It is not about winning or about sheer brute strength and simple linear paths. No, what makes this story speak even now, after all these years and having grown up, is the characters. The characters and their dynamics are so heart-wrenchingly real. They work together, thinking through life and death scenarios; they fight together; fight against each other; they love each other as much as they want to throw the other into a river and never speak to them again. That humanity that Rodda infuses in her characters is something that still speaks so well. It is not just through the main trio: Lief, the cocky but anxious teenage boy who works through the weight of his quest with logic; Barda, the tired, gruff father-mentor, the warrior of the group, fiercely loyal and surprisingly emotionally intelligent; Jasmine, the classic feral child, raised by the forest with a strong, unshakeable sense of justice and a vulnerability she tries to keep hidden. Rodda's characterisation shines brilliantly through the side characters too: ruthless, solemn but so desperately hopefully Doom; quiet, clever but traitorous Dain; hatefully greedy Laughing Jack. Even with the laughable, cliché name the “Shadowlord” has a great amount of depth and lore behind it. These are but a mere fraction of the vast supporting characters that appear in Rodda’s expansive series Deltora Quest.

The character arcs they all go through – or don't – and the consequences, bring a profound depth to these characters that sticks with me even now. I would even go as far as to say that what I think, read and write is built on this foundation. The themes of Rodda's works echoes in what I reach to read about now, in how I write and explore characters, in the patterns of how I think: the underlying basis that there is more than one side, that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it, that many truths can coexist, hurtful and confounding as it may be. It is as much a joy as it is a sorrow to reach back to these familiar books, to read familiar words and see a part of myself in them. To see the simplicity of the writing but not of the characters; good for me then, good for me now.

Do not get me wrong, Rodda is not some sort of secret hidden genius who writes revolutionary mind-blowing stories. Her writings are for a younger audience which is clear in the way she writes—but it is also good writing. It holds up even now when going in with the understanding that it is for a younger audience, though admittedly nostalgia still clings to the edges of my vision when thinking about her works, so I may be biased here. Have you read her works or were your childhood staple books something different? Was it Harry Potter? Or maybe Percy Jackson? Whose words have shaped you and what you love?