"A curious happiness, a contentment, a warm glow crept over me. It wasn't only the beer. I dare say, if you're a composer or a poet or a painter, you'll know that I-don't-care-a-damn feeling you get when you've finished what you reckon is a good piece of work. It's a grand sensation. That's how I felt."
Not sure anymore what I expected when I started reading these new offering from The Bloomsbury Group. Saw all of these lovely Easter basket colors and whimsical cover design, and read of all that charm that might appeal to a closet Anglophile like myself, and said in my head, "Yes, I want charm and whimsy right now. In a straight narrative form to calm the overly tasked brain during the demands of Woolf over two months." But these books are so much more. The Brontes Went To Woolworths was a delightful imaginative romp but with a menacing quality as we see these quietly fragile women risk their own serenity and situation through the exercise of wild imaginations. And now, Miss Hargreaves by Frank Baker takes that implicit danger of an overactive imagination a step further as the product of one's thoughts assumes a corporeal existence. Let me explain.
Norman and Henry are on holiday together in Ireland, and seek shelter inside a local church when it begins to rain. Once granted access to the drab and battered church, they feign interest in the structure to the curiously enthusiastic sexton. In an hilarious opening segment, Norman, with a little help from Henry, concocts a story about an elderly friend of his named Miss Connie Hargreaves who knew the revered former vicar, Mr. Archer. Something to pass the time with the sexton. And later, for some unexplained reason, Norman feels compelled to write an invitation to visit his native Cornford to his fictional character, Miss Hargreaves, and posts it to the location where they had claimed she was.
To this point, the novel is funny. Then Miss Hargreaves writes back, and appears in the flesh in Norman's hometown. With all the character traits and accoutrement that Norman and Henry had jokingly imagined for her. And wreaks havoc with every aspect of her creator's life. The humor regresses just a bit, and then we notice the vague unease, the hint of something "sinister," a word repeated several times throughout the book. I do not want to reveal too much because that is of course part of the fun here, but the novel becomes a clever and thoughtful examination of creativity, of thinking outside the box. As seen in the quote above, Norman feels a tremendous amount of pride in his creation but only when he is able to control her. When unable to do so, this product of his imagination threatens to control his existence. The burden of the creator compared to both the divine and the secular.
Loved the premise and the characters (especially Norman's father, a slightly dotty bookstore owner). Loved the writing. Loved the humor. Cannot gush enough really. This was a very well-executed tale of whimsy with not-so-hidden depths. Some call it a fairy tale. Enormously entertaining.
The lovely people at Bloomsbury USA have made five copies of the book available to you here. US and Canada shipping addresses only this time. Just leave a comment by end of day Saturday, March 6 for a chance. You really need to read this so don't leave me a comment that says, "No need to enter me. I have stopped acquiring books." (who are you kidding?) or "I've already won one from you, and want to give someone else a chance." Fight to the end for this one. Doesn't matter if you have won every contest I have ever sponsored. Just comment and cross your fingers. Trust me. You want this one.