A Prisoner in Fairyland

Algernon Blackwood's A Prisoner in Fairyland is an extraordinary accomplishment that works on several levels. The story is firmly grounded in Blackwood's own reality; "Uncle Paul" and his characters are Blackwood and the people and places he loved best. (Places are spiritual entities in Blackwood's work and must be counted as characters in their own right.) It's grounded in occult science, with Blackwood nudging the reader to certain conclusions which might be termed spiritualist, pantheist, theosophist, etc.; the germs of the ideas discussed--there's a great deal of explanation and discussion for a novel, but this is something more than a novel--are arguably universal truths. You'll find references to concepts such as thought transference, astral travel, Akashic record, nature of reality, illusion of death, visualization, significance of light, dreams, daydreams, Gaia, desire as a force., etc. There's even a homemade planchette.

You don't stop reading this book--you wake from its pages. Some readers may wish it had been revised to curtail Blackwood's tendency to ramble, but others will delight in the rambling, because those are the parts that lure the reader likewise into a reverie, and they do much to establish the powerfully contemplative mood of the whole.

The author intends that the reader sense him eagerly looking on, nodding encouragement. Such a construction can be fatal to any book, particularly when it's accompanied by a serious intent to persuade the reader to a certain outlook or view, but Blackwood manages beautifully here. At one point he actually states his premise: "'That's the mind wandering," explained the eldest child of the three. 'Always follow a wandering mind. It's quite safe. Mine's going presently too. We'll all go off together.'" The eldest child, judging by appearances, is the adult, "Uncle Paul," and the author, Blackwood.

The women in the book are very much trussed to horrid pedestals; I'm inclined to forgive Blackwood this because he was in love and this book is in part an expression of his yearning, though this doesn't excuse him. Regardless, the women are bohemians according to the middle class British values of that era.

The latter part of the book betrays a strangely Christian slant which may reflect the author's hope of reaching a broader audience, or (given the fact that the magic here is rooted in childhood memories brilliantly interpreted) he has simply reverted to the language of his youth. The moralizing is briefly drearly and largely inoffensive; it will add spice to any in-depth discussion of the work.

In fact, if you enjoy a good debate, this is a good book to lend your friends in anticipation of many hours' animated conversation, with or without stimulating refreshments. Or, get the book online at
http://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/webbin/gutbook/lookup?num=6021

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