I was lucky enough to master reading early and amongst the first longer books I read for myself, at around age five, were those about Mr Galliano's Circus by the then ubiquitous Enid Blyton. (No, sorry, not War and Peace. I was a bit precocious, but not that precocious.) Looking back from a much older perspective her circus stories are most certainly not quality literature, but they made a big impression on me at the time. I put it down to them that I have always had rather a thing about circuses - perhaps the image rather than the reality. I am always a sucker for a good story about a magic circus, and this is a particularly special one.
With Circus Mirandus we are firmly back on the shelf of children's fiction. In fact it is something of an old fashioned children's book - but in the very best sense. It is imaginative, thoughtful, engrossing, exciting, intriguing, moving and, ultimately, comforting.
There are ways in which It belongs firmly in the tradition of Roald Dahl: it has an orphan boy with a much loved grandfather figure; it has an obnoxious, child-hating great aunt; it has a cranky talking parrot; it has its protagonist unexpectedly finding entry into somewhere not totally unrelated to Wonka's Chocolate Factory. However, there are many strands drawn from its rich American heritage too - Katherine Patterson, say, and Betsy Byars - with more than a hint of a particular US brand of whimsy. More than anything it belongs with those children's' books that use fantasy as an expression of children's tussles with difficult aspects of life - and death.
Here the impending death is that of a beloved grandparent, an important issue as this can be the first experience of personal loss for many children. There have, of course, been many other books which have dealt sensitively and helpfully with this particular life event, not least several wonderful picture books. John Burningham's classic Granpa springs particularly prominently to mind and Benji Davis' Grandad's Island is a very notable more recent example. Circus Mirandus is very special too, though, and its longer fictional format and outstanding writing, allow some quite deep exploration of the final stages of a wonderfully strong and rich relationship.
But It is the magic circus, a circus of the imagination, which is at the heart of this little book, and needs most crucially to be a part of the experience of every child. It is because of the inspired conjuring of such a circus that this seemingly gentle novel punches well beyond its weight.
Circus Mirandus is a place of wonders visited first by Ephraim, the grandfather, when he is a boy, and years later by Micah, the story's young protagonist. Whilst there, Ephraim is promised a miracle by the circus's magician, the 'Man Who Bends Light' but decides with great maturity to delay its collection until he really needs it. On his deathbed Ephraim finally decides to call in payment of his miracle and Micah assumes that his grandfather wants what Micah himself so desperately wants, for his grandfather to get better and be his old self again. Whilst the reader begins early to realise that Ephraim's request was not exactly what Micah thought it, a big part of the story's engrossing intrigue is that we do not really get to know, or even quite guess, what the actual requested miracle might be - or whether it can indeed be achieved, even by a magician.
The story cleverly intertwines many other excellent elements too. These include a wonderfully drawn developing friendship between Miach and Jenny, a girl in his school class, and a family tradition of tying knots, which is quite magical - perhaps literally. The climax, which, at least for me as a reader, came as an enchanting surprise (and which I would never dream of revealing here) is very special indeed.
However one the biggest positives of all for this delightful book is its writing. The narrative structure is reasonably complex, with episodes around Ephraim's boyhood visit to the magic circus, skilfully interleaved with current events. There are too several changes in character viewpoint. These are not overtly telegraphed, yet still made accessibly clear for the young reader. Later other characters' stories are woven into the mix, most notably, and illuminatingly, that of Victoria, the Bird Woman. The levels of response to the magic circus are ultimately surprisingly rich and thoughtful for a children's book. It is comparatively rare, that young readers are trusted with so much complexity in the style and structure of their stories; they will benefit greatly from this lack of condescension.
Circus Mirandus is a book that will feed children's imaginations, help them deal with difficult emotions and begin to familiarise them with the glorious possibilities of multi-strand narratives. It is a little classic in waiting, ready to stand alongside the likes of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, although it is, I think, actually the finer book by far.
Well done to UK publisher Chicken House for picking up so quickly on this super US debut.
Posted with Blogsy