(I flicked back through the story while indulging in berry white chocolate yoghurt. Decadent.)
From the moment "A Fairy Tale" was translated into English and thrown onto bookshop shelves, I have been eyeing it eagerly. The entrancing cover art enticed me to read the blurb, which only further baited my curiousity and I was instantly hooked. The moment I saw it available, after checking on and off for months in Worldcat, I reserved it and went to snatch it up immediately.
This novel is engrossing from the very start, and extremely hard to put down. I started reading it on the train into the city, and ended up sitting on the platform until it was finished. I walked to the library, alone in my thoughts about this extremely lively, whimsical, raw, and genuine story. This is a significantly beautiful and well-composed contemporary fairy-tale, the best I have ever read, but it might be debatable whether it falls under the category of its namesake.
Alluded to constantly throughout the book is the presence of the surreal, that there is more to the world than first meets the eye, shown mainly through the character of the father of the protagonist, who seems sensitive to such things, in a subtly presented manner. It seems to be part of the reason for their nomadic, flighty life, which neither seems to desire, but is nonetheless essential to their survival.
The father is a rich and complex person who truly felt real to me from his very introduction, and this preconception was only ever strengthened as their tale progresses. He falls into the "gray" chasm of morality, as with a very specific and significant exception, you never really feel like he is doing the wrong thing, or anything different to what you would do in similar circumstances to ensure the survival of not only yourself, but your young child. Together they survive on odd jobs, the occasional theft, and even the charity of others. While the father seems to have a constant rose-tinted view of the world, not only looking for but also giving small tokens of kindness everywhere, it is rare that they encounter people they can truly trust with the weight of their own truths and journey.
Loyalty is a huge theme that resounds from the opening chapter, as the the bond between the father and son is completely joyous to say the least. More often than not it resembles that also of a teacher and pupil, but also of two best friends. The story is told in first person perspective by the son, "Peter", and the respect he has for his father seems noticeably limitless from the opening pages. The father can really do no wrong in his son's eyes, which is further sustained in Peter's imagination as he considers them not only a father and son on the run, but a king and his son on a noble quest.
It is hard to speak of anything more without spoiling the novel completely, as there is a dramatic change to the story and characters at around the midpoint of the novel. While the second half is a little different, it somehow got all the more engaging and compelling for me. I was so invested in these characters, and the bewildering and sometimes unsettling blur of the line between reality and the unknown. There is a lot left unsaid and unexplained as you turn from the last page, but I found this really suited the overall atmosphere of this often charming, fleetingly haunting fairy-tale. From going on this expedition with these characters and getting to know and understand them with specific gaps left uncertain, I had a clear picture of everything in my imagination (but this will greatly differ between readers). I am glad my speculated conclusions were neither defied nor negated in the ending pages.
Due to the magnificence of libraries, it is rare that I will ever say a book is worth buying, but "A Fairy-Tale" certainly is. I enjoyed this so much, from beginning to end, with every blow and delight along the way that I could not possibly leave their adventure there, with only one-look through. It is close to perfection, and I can't wait for a day where I am in need of the familiar more than the new, so that I can open this book and be lost once more. If I live to be old, I daresay I would have visited this world more than a dozen times (up there, for me, with the fictional likes of Harry Potter, or the works of Murakami and Kingsolver).
I heartily await the translations of Bengtsson's other works, with the strongest desire to be held captive to his eloquence, anew, once more.
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