A True Fantasy/A Fantastical Memoir
In this unusual book, part love-story, part coming-of age
story, and a combination of memoir and fable, Jane Rosenberg LaForge interweaves
two narratives. One is a tale of the forbidden love between Jenny, a mysterious
dumb orphan and Samuel, a young blacksmith, living in a Renaissance-style
fantasy world riven by politics, war and intrigue. The other is a wry, poignant
and often bitterly funny backwards glance at the author’s own experience of
growing up in Hollywood
during the sixties. It, too, is ultimately a love story. The first is a tale of
redemption, the second of failure: and turn by turn, passage by passage, as each
narrative interrupts the other in layers of commentary, the effect is a contrapuntal
dialogue between fantasy and memoir.
LaForge is a poet, and in the passages of ‘True Fantasy’ her
prose is laden with sensuous poetic imagery. Samuel the blacksmith eats ‘tiny
red tomatoes that fell on his tongue sweetly and with a spark’; when he and
Jenny make love ‘she was liquid in his hands; she was sand; she was the raw
stuff – the spines of last year’s leaves, stems and roots – the tillable riches
of the earth.’ It has to be read like poetry, I think: slowly. By contrast, in
the ‘Fantastical Memoir’ the style is austere and autobiographical (and some of the cultural references pass over my British head). But LaForge
mercilessly pinpoints the awkwardness,
difficulties and perceived failures of a teenage self desperate for the
trappings of success – clothes, joints, a date for the prom, a proper boyfriend
and above all a role at the fashionable Renaissance Pleasure Faire – and who
feels certain that everyone else her age is prettier, sexier, and having more
fun.
As the respective love stories approach their culmination,
the two narratives gradually collide. In the fantasy, Samuel the blacksmith’s
boy owns up to and takes full responsibility for his love of Jenny. But in
sixties Hollywood
the young LaForge is unable to deal with the reality of her boyfriend’s
illness. ‘An Unsuitable Princess’ isn’t children’s or YA fiction, I should make
clear. Not because of anything unsuitable about it. But at a time when YA
literature is full of romantic young teens romantically dying of romantic cancer,
LaForge honestly charts her own inability even to know what to say to a dying boy
– her apparent callousness, a mixture of fear and denial – and ultimately the
exhaustion, guilt and shame of grief. She is very hard on herself.
This book isn’t an easy read, and the prose is occasionally a little laboured, difficult to get through. But persistence brings rewards. There’s plenty of shrewd, dark humour that made me laugh – such as
LaForge’s frank admission of the thrill a teenage girl can get out of
discovering she is admired even by older and unattractive men: it’s all so new:
‘A letch, by definition, is overly keen to notice the wiles of a
seventeen-year-old girl, but I was overly keen to be noticed. I became an
object, possibly blunter than most, and as the weeks went by I felt I no longer
had to feign a personality to attract attention.’ And in the fantasy, the lush prose brings moments
of delight, as in the passage when Samuel declares his love for Jenny:
‘everything around them, around her, felt stunningly promising, as when the air
is first kissed by a storm.’ In the final chapters, the fantasy melts away into
the thin air that perhaps it always was, and the ending is poignant and true.
An Unsuitable Princess by Jane Rosenberg LaForge is published by Jaded Ibis Press
This sounds really interesting - thanks for bringing it to my attention!
ReplyDeletethis sounds astonishingly different and wonderful. The coming-of-age narrative combined with fantasy-one of my particular interests. Thank you for writing about it.
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