little big readalong: Book 1 Edgewood

Fellow readalongers, how are you faring with Little, Big? How far are you? Are you enjoying it?

I have decided to write a post for each of the six books which form the novel. Here are my thoughts on the first...

On a certain day in June, 19—, a young man was making his way on foot northward from the great City to a town or place called Edgewood, that he had been told of but had never visited. His name was Smoky Barnable, and he was going to Edgewood to get married; the fact that he walked and didn’t ride was one of the conditions placed on him coming there at all.

As I read the opening lines, I was reminded of my struggle the first time I encountered this novel: what is going on? Where and when are we? How do I read this? This first paragraph shows us a pattern that is repeated as we continue through the book: it sets forth to destabilise, to give us information and yet somehow render it meaningless. For instance, when is this story taking place? ‘On a certain day in June’ is precise and helpful; ‘19—’ is not, not really. It plays on the old literary convention of using a dash to disguise a name, date or place, and hides as much as it tells. Then we’re told that Smoky ‘didn’t ride’, which implies to me that people are still frequently travelling on horseback, yet as we read further we find this is a world of telephones and computers and cars and motorways. (Or have I misunderstood ‘ride’ in this context? )

Smoky is an odd name for a hero; we soon learn it’s not his real name but it’s the only one we’re given. He is called Smoky because he’s so anonymous, like all the Barnables, although from his mother (who deserted him as a child) he has inherited ‘a streak of [her] concreteness: an actual streak it seemed to those who knew him, a streak of presence surrounded by a dim glow of absence’. This streak perhaps suggests possibility. He’s leaving a decaying, unnamed City for a place, Edgewood, which isn’t marked on the map he has, yet is using to guide him. And he is travelling under ‘conditions’ which seem pretty arbitrary: he must walk, he must not buy food and he must beg or find places to sleep, not pay for them. Arbitrary, but magical, and dictated by ‘the cards’, the tarot that Great Aunt Cloud reads and reads.

Other characters have odd names too, some of which – Alice and Timmie Willie, Ariel and Auberon – allude to literary figures, others of which are very suggestive – Lionel Mouse, Violet Bramble, Nora Cloud (and perhaps they are literary figures I just don’t recognise?). Looking at a family tree at the front of the book, I think that I can see an urban ‘side’ – Mouses and the Townses – and a rural one – Drinkwaters, Woods, Dales.

While Smoky is walking towards, he hopes, Edgewood, we learn in a series of flashbacks about his early life and his brief meetings with the girl who will become his fiancée, Daily Alice Drinkwater. On one occasion, she tells him how she first knew she would marry him, when she stepped inside a rainbow and heard her dog speak his name. Smoky is sceptical:

‘A fairy tale,’ he said.
‘I guess,’ she said sleepily. [...]
He knew he would have to believe in order to go where she had been; knew that, if he believed, he could go there even if it didn’t exist, if it was make-believe. [...] He searched himself for that old will, long in disuse. If she went there, ever, he didn’t want to be left behind; wanted never to be farther from her than this.

This passage seems to be saying that a story, a fairy tale, is not just a series of sounds or words, it is an actual, physical place. And conversely, that physical space is not what you think it is.

The name ‘Edgewood’ shrieks liminality and borders. The house that Smoky finds there, Daily Alice’s home, is very strange indeed:

‘See, it’s a house all fronts. It was built to be a sample. My great-grandfather [...] He built this house to be a sample, so people could come and look at it, from any side, and choose which kind of house they wanted; that’s why the inside is so crazy. It’s so many houses, sort of put inside each other or across each other, with their fronts sticking out.’
[...] He looked where she pointed, along the back front. It was a severe, classical facade softened by ivy, its gray stone stained as though by dark tears; tall, arched windows; symmetrical detail he recognized as the classical Orders; rustications, columns, plinths. Someone was looking out one tall window with an air of melancholy. ‘Now come on.’ She [...] led him by the hand along that front, and as they passed, it seemed to fold like scenery; what had looked flat became out-thrust; what stuck out folded in; pillars turned pilasters and disappeared. Like one of those ripply pictures children play with, where a face turns from grim to grin as you move it, the back front altered, and when they reached the opposite wall and turned to look back, the house had become cheerful and mock-Tudor, with deep curling eaves and clustered chimneys like comic hats. One of the broad casement windows (a stained piece or two glittered among the leaded panes) opened on the second floor, and Sophie looked out, waving.

I try to imagine exactly how that all works, and I can’t. The house doesn’t seem to be governed by the physical laws which shape ordinary houses. The house is like the story Alice told, it’s a space but a different sort of space. Crowley is constantly disorienting us, showing us the strangeness, asking us to open our minds to new possibilities. He writes about insubstantial heroes, impossible houses, lives dominated by tarot, rainbows you can step inside. And we haven’t even reached the first Elf yet. (We have, however, encountered a talking fish.) How do we read this? We are constantly being wrongfooted, offered a different logic. And yet, there is just enough play on the familiar to keep us from bewilderment. And lovely writing. If a story is a place, this is a place where you want to stay. Thank goodness it’s a long book! I have hours of pleasure ahead.

If you are participating in the readalong and have posted, please put a link in the comments so we can read your thoughts too!

(István Orosz is a Hungarian artist who is known for his ‘impossible objects’ and anamorphoses, pictures which appear distorted until you look at them from a particular angle or through a special mirror. All the pictures in this post are by him: The Pergola, The Well (1998) and an untitled work of 1989 from his Hungarian Wikipedia page. His website is here.)

Comments

[Amateur Reader (Tom)]

The illustrations are highly appropriate - thanks!

The description of the house - the inside tour matched with the exterior - is a masterpiece, one of many in the novel.

I will note that you can ride a bicycle, or ride in a car, train, or plane, so "ride" does not particularly imply horses. Although in this book, where everything moves sideways, follow your intuition, right?

I have been posting about some of the related reading I have been doing, but there is no way on earth I am going to write about this book until I'm done with it. Such is my training, or such is my neurosis.

[Helen]

They are terrific, aren't they?

Thanks for explaining 'ride' so nicely, I suppose that cultural difference gives an extra veneer of strangeness to the whole experience. And everything moving sideways is so apt: you think you have your finger on something and it slips away. That's partly why I thought I'd post as I go along. (The other reason is that if I wait until I finish it, it might very well be July...)

I enjoyed your post about Carlo Ginzburg and am desperate to read The Night Battles now! I'm off to see what else you've been reading. For everyone else, here are the links:

http://wutheringexpectations.blogspot.be/2015/05/an-irrational-outgrowth-carlo-ginzburg.html
http://wutheringexpectations.blogspot.be/2015/05/we-dont-mean-that-sort-we-hate-em-too.html
http://wutheringexpectations.blogspot.be/2015/05/the-more-i-read-about-it-more-my.html

I suspect I'm going to regret not reading Sylvie and Bruno.

[Helen]

Oh and Annabel has written a first post: https://gaskella.wordpress.com/2015/05/03/little-big-john-crowley-readalong/

Have I missed any others? Let me know.

[Lory @ Emerald City Book Review]

I'm not sure if I'm going to post about Little, Big or just enjoy everyone else's posts as I read along. I did complete the first book, so I'm in sync with you at least. Hoping I'll be able to keep up the pace.

[Helen]

Oh I hope you do write about it Lory! Are you enjoying it?

Ahem, you're actually ahead of me. I haven't finished Book 1 yet. I just flew into a tizzy yesterday that I must get on and write something!

[JM Schreiber]

With all the best intentions I have committed myself to this journey. The book has been sitting on my shelves for several years. However I am no more than a few pages in at the moment with a other few books to tie up first, so I am unlikely to post until after mid-month. In the meantime I've admired all the lovely images but will only glance at the words until I catch up!

[Helen]

Hello Joe! Your blog is new to me, I have only discovered it thanks to this readalong and I'm looking forward to reading more of your writing. Good luck with Little, Big! I must say, it's turning out to be a bigger commitment than I anticipated, but lovely.

[Bellezza]

Helen, how lovely your indepth thoughts on this book! And I love the photograph of the "yellow" hoise offering us many perspectives as you mention that Crowley does, too. I have been self conscious that I might miss obvious literary pieces inh is book, but I am abandoning that for the pure pleasure of reading it. I think this is a perfect book to read as a group becuase it has so much to discuss, so much to ponder, so much to interpret. Sure,y there isn't just one right answer, and therefore I don't have to be concerned.

[Helen]

Thank you! I too am convinced I am missing lots of literary references, and I'm looking forward to seeing what Tom writes about it. But I believe that if a novel is any good, it works without that background knowledge. And this is such a lovely read, isn't it?

So very true there's no one right answer, and with all his shifts, and maybes, and half-seen things, Crowley encourages us in that.

I can't wait to read your thoughts! You always have something interesting to say. :)

[Annabel]

I have struggled slightly to get into the book so far and am rather behind being only halfway through the first section - but Smoky is now at Edgewood and my fingers are crossed that I can get in to. Love those pictures by the way - I'm sort of imagining Edgewood as a pop-up house that folds away when you go round the corner.

I doubt I'll get any of the references (unless they're that obvious) so I hope others can enlighten me...

[Helen]

There's a good initial discussion of references on Dolce Bellezza's first post about Little, Big (http://dolcebellezza.net/2015/05/13/little-big-book-1-edgewood/). Needless to say, they had pretty much all zoomed by me. :) I don't think it matters terribly. I like your picture of Edgewood as a pop-up house!

[Bellezza]

Never meant to zoom by, somehow I get all compulsive and just keep reading. I thought I would post on Books 1-3 in the middle of the month, and write a post of the last thee books at the end of May. Believe me, your post is much needed with all its information and illustrations! I value all your insight, when I seem to specialize in pointing out the fairly obvious. :)

[Helen]

Oh, I meant that the references had all zoomed by me, not your posts, which I enjoyed!

Pointing out the obvious is actually very useful, especially for anyone who hasn't read the book. Remember the story of the Emperor's New Clothes... In any case, you do yourself a disservice. You always have an interesting perspective on a book, and I enjoy reading about it. I'm looking forward to your posts at the end of the month.