Little

Carey, Edward. Little. New York: Riverhead 2018. Print

First Sentences:

In the same year that the five-year-old Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart wrote his Minuet for Harpsichord, in the precise year when the British captured Pondicherry in India from the French, in the exact year in which the melody for "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" was first published, in that very year, which is to say 1761, whilst in the city of Paris people at their salons told tales of beasts in castles and men with blue beards and beauties that would not wake and cats in boots and slippers made of glass and youngest children with tufts in their hair and daughters wrapped in donkey skin, and whilst in London people at their clubs discuss the coronation of King George III and Queen Charlotte: many miles away from all this activity, in a small village in Alsace, in the presence of a ruddy midwife, two village maids, and a terrified mother, was born a certain undersized baby. 

Description:

Whew! Quite a loooong, convoluted first sentence. But it captures the detailed style and the slightly formal language that composes Edward Carey's new novel, Little. Like Carey's first book, Observatory Mansions, (about a man who acts as a living-statue and lives in his run-down family among eccentrics and who, as a hobby, steals precious minutia from strangers for his private museum), Little is chock full of strange characters both troubling and compelling.

As he pushed [the door] open a bell attached to it sounded twice, a loud noise in all that hush. It was a sad sound, two dolorous clangs, that seemed to say, That. Hurt.

Little takes place in the late 1700s, focusing on the life of Marie, an undersized child, naturally nicknamed "Little," and her difficult life in France. With both parents dead, she lives in Paris with a poor, reclusive doctor named Curtius who sculpts human organs out of wax for display in hospitals. This uncomfortably quiet man teaches Little the art of wax sculpture while he demystifies the organs of the human body. They find some fame by taking life molds of the heads (living and dead) of famous Frenchmen like Voltaire. 

Wax gives us light; without wax we would like in the darkness. How much of our lives have we seen because of wax? How would we illuminate theaters and ballrooms without it? How would the little boy with monsters under his bed dispel them without wax....We strike a match and burn a candle and a little bit of daylight is restored to us, because of wax.

Little is provided escape from this poverty-stricken life when Elizabeth, the cousin of the King, requests she move to Versailles to teach her art. Little lives in a cupboard as do many other servants who aren't sufficiently important to deserve a room, and is only allowed out when summoned by the princess. But a deep friendship and learning relationship is formed between the two girls.

But that life is short-lived when the Revolution starts and the royal family is under siege. Little finds herself removed from the palace by Elisabeth herself, but whether out of anger or for Little's protection is unknown.

I learned not only that your loved one may be forbidden you, given away to someone else, but also that though you love someone they may run from  you, and you may open your arms but they shall not come in. The Elisabeth I loved was no longer. What was left was a shell, a plaster personage. Hollow. Inside was nothing but stale air unable to get out. How I wished to crack her open.

The fighting destroys most of Paris and Little must forge a new life on her own wits and wax-figure skills while avoiding the guillotine herself for her association with the palace. The results of these struggles are both surprising and satisfying.

It is a challenging, intriguing story of eccentric characters living in poverty, abuse, innovation, and triumph over adversity. Readers will be buried deeply in this eighteenth century world of Paris and Revolution, but it is a strangely compelling world that provides fascination on each page. I found it a compelling story about a historical figure and her era.

Happy reading. 

Fred

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If this book interests you, be sure to check out:

Carey, Edward. Observatory Mansions.   

The sprawling familial house of Francis Orme is now apartments filled with very odd people. Orme himself is quite a character, with a job as a living statue and a collection of items he stole from other people to add to his private museum. Dizzily unpredictable and unique, Observatory Mansions is challenging and compelling at the same time: a book you are unable to put down, no matter how much you may want to, simple to find out how these people and their stories play out.