Monday, July 1, 2013

Will You Come to the Party?

I'm reading Little, Big by John Crowley. I'm so enamored of this book. Every time I pick it up I want to step outside in a drop-waist dress (print with tiny flowers) and straw hat. Perhaps a pair of lace gloves, but definitely with bare feet. A garden party is called for. Stretched out on a chaise lounge, spreading my toes. Drinking tea from a glass teacup. With a saucer. I imagine Cloud sitting next to me with her tarot cards, smoking one of those brown cigarettes (downwind, of course).
In the backyard, where the grass is long and weeds ferocious, is that flick in the corner of my eye a butterfly or—racing heart hoping—someone Little?

I can't say enough good things about the prose. Be assured though, Little, Big is not for the dilettante reader. Only the truly avid bibliophile should come to the party. First impressions are of a sedate gathering, but the attuned will soon snap to the humor that presses out from all sides. As the sun sets beyond the white fence, dusk vibrates with laughter. I turn the pages and smile. It's all so clever I can hardly stand it.