The Mysterious Disappearance of the Reluctant Book Fairy by Elizabeth George
My rating: 4/5 cats
this is a brief and playful light fantasy novella/long story that will appeal to all you booklovers who appreciate the capacity of books to deliver pleasurable escapism. in this case, the escapism is quite literal as annapurna, née janet shore, discovers she possesses a very specific power.
janet is a sickly child growing up in langley – a town on whidbey island in washington state, where she lives with seven siblings and two parents. during her long bedridden, book-filled bouts of various illnesses, she discovers that, given a book which moves her to strong emotion, she can actually enter the book’s world as an active participant. she can kiss the prince, attend the tea party, battle the pirates. all she needs is a tether to bring her back, a place of solitude from which to begin, and a book with
a story that provided her with enchantment, excitement, terror, thrills, or any other physical or emotional connection to it.
she is content to keep this skill to herself, until the day her best friend monie reardon misreads To Kill a Mockingbird, and janet’s outrage is so great, she sends monie (consensually, of course) into the book. all she needs to do is open the book to the desired scene, spread it over her friend’s chest, and utter the magic words:
welcome me welcome me welcome me home along with five other words whose revelation here would be far too dangerous to the reader of this tale.
and while her friend’s body remains behind, her animus is off in the pages, seeing firsthand how wrong she was about bob ewell. (incidentally and as a caution – there are a lot of spoilers to books in here – To Kill a Mockingbird, Jude the Obscure, Rebecca, and to a lesser extent Middlemarch, Far from the Madding Crowd and probably some more i am forgetting. those first three are doozy-spoilers, though, for those of you who have not yet read them) monie returns from her voyage better informed, and eager to do it again. and also very blabby about it.
which puts janet in high demand among the teen set. initially, she accommodates their requests, sending them into the age-appropriate worlds of harry potter and Twilight until her inner book-snob takes over with a declaration of “Hey! Try reading a decent book for once” and she begins editing their selections.
So tedious, repetitive, and downright pedestrian did the demands for literary travel become that Janet began sending individuals where she felt they best belonged which, as you can probably imagine, was not a popular move – sending girls into Jane Eyre instead of bellaland, boys into the company of the argonauts instead of wizarding school.
which brings me to my first question, and i recognize that it is silly to question what is meant to be a fun bauble of a story, but i have to ask – how does this, um, work? we are told that the book needs to evoke “enchantment, excitement, terror, thrills, or any other physical or emotional connection to it,” but is that for the sender or the sent? because if the sender, then janet would probably not have had any luck ever in sending kids into that vampire romance, but if it is the sent, then she would never have had any luck in pushing her own tastes on them, because they wouldn’t understand the context of what she was showing them and could have no pre-existing emotional connection. which is a silly quibble, but i am genuinely interested, since the paradox will recur later.
so, janet grows up, leaves home – education, failed romance, travel, commune living, from which she re-emerges as annapurna, returns to her hometown and accepts the position of town librarian at the urging of monie reardon herself, now monie reardon pillerton. and monie, restlessly married, mother of four, would like to go on another book-trip, please.
and of course, the secret of annapurna’s gift gets out again, and people come from miles away to escape into a good book. with the help strongarming of a woman whose cause is causes, annapurna manages to put it to good use raising money for charities, presented as “the Rick Steves of the imagination.” but she’s still got opinions, boy. she still criticizes the taste of others and manages to squeeze in little jabs at e-readers and amazon and popular bestsellers like that book Pray, Eat, Vomit.
and that’s all you will get for plot from me. View Spoiler » the rest of this space will be devoted to me and my opinions of annapurna’s opinions. might get ranty, who knows?
the readers’ advisor in me does not like one bit how judge-y she is about which books she will or will not consider when sending someone in. when she does it as a kid, it’s fine – it’s adorable really, because at that age, you want to be challenging your peers and opening them up to new reading experiences with books they might not know were enjoyable and not just boring books for grown-ups. and i get that it would have been frustrating to have people ask for harry potter and Twilight over and over and that the urge to steer people towards “good” books is strong and that’s all fine when you’re a kid and before you know any better, but when she does it as an adult, as a LIBRARIAN, well, that’s just wrong. maybe libraries on teeny islands are different (and judging by The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry, bookstores are at the very least) but she shoulda had that trained right out of her. (not that she has had any formal librarian training, but still! librarians – represent! ) if grown-ass people want to go into Fifty Shades of Grey and see all the eye rolling and lip-biting for themselves well so be it, and while i haven’t read harry potter myself, i think that that would probably be a fun place to visit, right? because that’s a big distinction here – books people read vs. books they would want to visit. Jude the Obscure is in my top three alltime books ever, but why on earth would i want to visit it? so i could watch jude get a pig penis thrown at him?? so i can watch him be miserable in a variety of places?? so i could see father time? hell, no. i would want to go into Island of the Blue Dolphins and spear a devilfish with karana, to snuggle with her dog, to see that whalebone fence for myself. and don’t tell me i can’t because it’s not up to your elitist standards, lady. don’t try to force me into austen’s balls because trust me, you do NOT want me in that world. i would scandalize the lot of ’em. and i would start by giggling over the word “balls.”
but annapruna is steadfast in her personal tastes, (which again begs the question – how does this work??), and she “firmly refused to accommodate” many requests, stating primly “I will not deal in trash,” refusing entrée into the The Da Vinci Code, or “danielle steele” (which is honestly the most frequently misspelled name ever; why is that?), and declaring “There would be only one vampire and Bram Stoker was his godlike creator.” which is rude, since that book, while it is good for what it is, is pretty low on action, because – epistolary. i would so much rather experience Salem’s Lot, or Sunshine instead of “dearest jonathan.” unexpectedly, Dune seems to have made the cut, so phew i guess. go, sandworms! and although it’s not annapurna who says this, there’s still a judgment by another character about poirot and miss marple being “terminal dullards” that i’m putting in the same stewpot as annapurna’s judgments under the blanket of “authorial sass.”
rock me, ranganathan
in any case, this is a really enjoyable book, one that you the reader should feel free to read or not read, as your taste dictates. don’t let anyone tell you what to read. and if anyone does, yell “NO!,” then go, and then tell an adult.
