4.5 Stars
”I know that the best time to see them is in that perfect hour before sunset when the sun sinks low on the horizon like a ripe peach and sends shafts of gold bursting through the trees. The ‘in between.’ I call it. No longer day, not yet night; some other place and time when magic hangs in the air and the light plays tricks on the eye. You might easily miss the flash of violet and emerald, but I—according to my teacher, Mrs. Hogan—am ‘a curiously observant child.’ I see their misty forms among the flowers and leaves. I know my patience will be rewarded if I watch and listen. If I believe. “
”And then…
The lightest ringing at my ears. The slightest movement of fern and leaf.
My heart flutters. My eyes widen with excitement.
A flash of vibrant emerald. Another of softest lavender-blue.
I lean forward. Draw in my breath. Don’t make a sound.
They are here.”
These stories of Olivia, in the present in Ireland, and Frances and Elsie, from the past beginning in 1917 in Cottingley, England, weave together slowly; in the way life usually unfolds. Day by day, bit by bit. Patience is required, but for those who truly believe, and seek it, the truth will gradually be revealed.
Olivia’s grandmother has been in a home since her Alzheimer’s progressed past the point where she could live at home with Olivia’s grandfather. When he was alive, her grandfather had been busy trying to hold his bookshop, “Something Old,” together, and he’s now passed and left his bookshop to Olivia. She’s also making sure to spend time with her grandmother, and to slowly get her grandparent’s home ready, all the boxes of things to go through and decide what to keep and what to give away. In the process she finds some things that lead her to a journey into her grandmother’s younger years, the stories of Frances and Elsie and the years of the photographs of the two of them and the fairies.
Intertwined with this, there is also the story of Frances and Elsie, from the first summer Frances and her mother came to live with her Aunt Polly and her cousin Elsie. The year her father went off to the war. That year, Frances saw the fairies for the first time, and wasn’t believed, so Elsie convinces her that they can prove it with photographs.
Arthur Conan Doyle, best known for his Sherlock Holmes books makes an appearance, taking an interest in these fairy photographs when word spreads far enough to reach him, and he eventually publishes
“The Coming of the Fairies”
, including photographs taken by young Frances and Elsie.
While much of this story revolves around the coming-of-age aspect of this story for young Frances and Elsie, and fairies, there is sufficient time spent in the present to ground this story so that it is not overly precious.
”It was the smaller, unexpected things that broke Olivia’s heart; an incomplete game of solitaire, Pappy’s pipe resting on the edge of the ashtray, a half-finished jigsaw of the Titanic. A quiet, simple life on pause.”
A child, Iris, the daughter of a local writer, enters the picture, and through her small, simple gestures, Olivia’s heart begins to mend. And through the magical draw of the bookshop, Olivia is able to help Iris open back up to a life without her mother. Because of Iris, Olivia opens up to a new life, and because of Olivia, Iris begins to open up to others.
”I tumbled her words around in my mind—‘If we can believe in fairies, perhaps we can believe in anything’—and the more I repeated them, the more I felt that perhaps believing in fairies was more important than seeing them. In belief, there is hope and wonder. In seeing, there is often question and doubt.”
At its heart, this is a feel good book, a fairy tale, of sorts, but there is more. This is a story of Alzheimer’s, of life, and of death, of love lost and love found, the heartbreak of a parent whose child is missing; a story of discovery, of fairies and those who believe, and those who don’t; a story of believing in yourself.
Many thanks, once again, to the Public Library system for the loan of this book!