1910 children's fantasy. Philip, feeling abandoned after his older
sister and sole family member marries, builds a model city from things
around the house, then finds he has been sucked into it.
This is a relatively late novel in Nesbit's career, but it still
feels as if it's defining the tropes rather than expanding on them: in
1910, it was enough, and unusual enough, to have a child hero going
into a magical land with parallels to reality, having adventures, and
coming back, without any need to sophisticate the story beyond that.
The writing is always light, with occasional asides to the reader: I
was particularly struck by a long divagation on the disappointingness
of toy food, ending: "But I am wandering. When you remember the things
that happened when you were a child, you could go on writing about
them for ever. I will put all this in brackets, and then you need not
read it if you don't want to." Indeed, if you've never seen the
classic Victorian Noah's Ark toy, you will be at a substantial
disadvantage when working out what's going on in places.
Philip is a well-developed character, though often not a sympathetic
one: when his sister marries, he goes into a sulk which is quite out
of proportion to the situation. Yes, all right, he's ten and she's the
only family he's known; and yes, all right, he has to be down so that
he can raise himself; but I did find him a bit wearing in the early
sections, where his self-absorption quite keeps him from seeing any
possible allies. His companion in adversity Lucy is more interesting,
but doesn't get as much narrative time.
More disappointing to me, though, was the unquestioned assumption that
building cities in the drawing-room, and visiting them, is all very
well but it's never going to happen again. (Helen, who used to join in
the imagination of fantastic worlds with Philip, shows up briefly but
is explicitly exiled forever, and doesn't mind because she thinks it
was all just a dream; and it's clear later that something like this
applies to Philip and Lucy too.) It moves the whole story away from
"adventure" and into "improving episode" or "metaphor for childhood",
in a way that the presence of a clockwork lizard from Philip's toy-box
as a real dragon that he has to slay cannot manage.
The plot itself is almost an afterthought: strangers to the fantasy
land may be either the Deliverer or the Destroyer, and Philip has to
accomplish the seven great deeds to prove that he is indeed the
Deliverer. Even here, it's clear that nobody's taking it terribly
seriously, with actions retroactively declared to have been deeds
because they've turned out to be useful. What does get taken
seriously is the idea of having rules for the world: they may be
arbitrary, but you can't break them. This was a substantial step away
from the more whimsical approach of Alice's Adventures in
Wonderland; it's still not what one could call solid world-building,
but later fantasy writers including Diana Wynne Jones and Neil Gaiman
have acknowledged Nesbit's work as fundamental to beginning this
change.
As things progress, the focus changes substantially, when it becomes
clear that the books which are the main building-blocks of the "real"
city are still books in the fantasyland, and can be opened; and people
and things can get out. This is an idea which frankly deserves its own
book, and Nesbit used it again three years later in Wet Magic.
It's sometimes a little ponderous and preachy, and occasionally shows
its age (in the matter of the lions), but there is a sense of joy
about this book that overcomes all its problems.
Freely available from
Project Gutenberg and as an
audiobook from
Librivox.
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