John Crowley’s “Little, Big” is not just a novel; it’s an experience. Stepping into its pages is like crossing a threshold into a house that is both familiar and impossibly vast, a place where the everyday intertwines with the mythical. This book, often hailed as a masterpiece of modern fantasy, is a journey through generations, dreams, and the subtle magic that permeates our world, if only we knew where to look. For readers seeking a narrative that transcends typical genre boundaries, “Little, Big” by John Crowley offers a rich, layered world to get lost in.
Within the seemingly modest confines of this book, Crowley crafts a universe of breathtaking scope. It’s a story that feels both “little,” in its intimate focus on family and personal journeys, and “big,” in its exploration of grand themes and mythical undercurrents. The narrative meanders through time, much like a winding path in a magical forest, occasionally disorienting but always rewarding. While some might find its non-linear timeline and allegorical characters challenging, these elements are precisely what contribute to the novel’s unique charm and enduring appeal. “Little, Big” stands as a testament to Crowley’s ambition and his ability to weave profound observations about human nature into a tapestry of fantastical storytelling.
A House of Worlds: Narrative Structure and Setting
Crowley masterfully constructs Edgewood, a house that exists not just in physical space but across multiple dimensions of reality. This house becomes a central character in itself, a nexus point where the mundane world brushes against the realm of Faerie. Imagine Lord Dunsany’s whimsical landscapes blended with the contemporary sensibilities of Neil Gaiman, all filtered through a Shakespearean lens reminiscent of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”—yet even this comparison only hints at the novel’s originality. “Little, Big” forges its own path, creating a space that is both enchanting and unsettling, beautiful and deeply strange.
The sprawling cast of characters in “Little, Big” are followed across generations, their stories interwoven in a tapestry of time jumps that echo the cyclical nature of myth itself. For those who appreciate intricate, multi-generational sagas, reminiscent of Jack Vance’s “Lyonesse Saga,” Crowley’s narrative structure is a rewarding experience. The wealth of personal detail and the fragmented storytelling enhance, rather than detract from, the overall immersion into the Drinkwater and Barnable family’s lives. It’s a story that unfolds organically, revealing its secrets slowly and deliberately, inviting readers to piece together the larger picture.
Lyrical Prose and End-of-Worlds Atmosphere
Like Vance, John Crowley possesses a distinctively lyrical and often melancholic prose style. Edgewood and its inhabitants evoke a sense of impending loss, a feeling akin to the elegiac atmosphere found in Vance’s “Tales from a Dying Earth.” This isn’t to say “Little, Big” is devoid of joy; humor, beauty, and the persistent pursuit of love and happiness are woven throughout the narrative. Characters often seek refuge from the harsh realities of the outside world within the labyrinthine halls of Edgewood, a place where the boundaries of reality blur, and the possibilities are as endless as the rooms within.
The concept of traversing between worlds in “Little, Big” is tied to the power of dreams. These dreams, however, are not always benign; they can quickly descend into nightmares, reflecting the precarious balance between the human world and the realm of Faerie. For every instance of romance and enchantment, there is an undercurrent of suffering, or the mischievous, sometimes malevolent, influence of otherworldly beings. A sense of predestination hangs over the family, suggesting they are players in a larger game between worlds, a game that carries real stakes and hints at a looming conflict between the encroaching forces of technology and the retreating magic of Faerieland.
Love, Family, and the Fabric of Reality
The novel opens with youthful passion and celebration, depicting the wedding of Smoky Barnable and Daily Alice Drinkwater. This joyous beginning soon gives way to darker undertones with the introduction of the faeries, marking a turning point in their lives. To fully grasp this pivotal moment, Crowley delves into the Drinkwater family’s history, tracing their lineage and the intricate connections that bind them to Edgewood. He then propels the narrative forward, following their descendants as they grapple with the enigmatic game orchestrated by these faerie beings. Playing cards, imbued with a sense of prophecy, become recurring motifs, foreshadowing events and adding layers of mystique to the unfolding story.
As the narrative deepens, clarity seems to recede, and the plot resists straightforward analysis. “Little, Big” encourages readers to surrender to its allegorical nature, to experience the story rather than dissect it. The core themes are not solely about a war between worlds, but encompass fundamental aspects of human existence: birth, family, love across generations, the passage of time, the interplay of reality and dreams, and the vastness of the universe reflected in the microcosm of human imagination.
Ultimately, “Little, Big” emphasizes the enduring power of family as a refuge amidst life’s storms. Even when faced with painful questions and unavoidable losses, the bonds of family and the sanctuary of Edgewood serve as anchors. The house itself becomes a symbol of hope, a gateway to a larger, more magical reality that remains accessible as long as belief persists. In the spirit of Peter Pan, Crowley suggests that belief itself is the key to unlocking the extraordinary within the ordinary.
A Myth for Our Times
“Little, Big” reminds us that even in the darkest of times, there is the promise of renewal, the eventual return of “summer,” a metaphor for hope and joy. Like the cyclical return of Oberon, Titania, and their faerie court, Crowley hints at the enduring presence of magic and wonder, hidden just beneath the surface of our everyday world.
While subtle allusions to classical and modern myths enrich the novel, enhancing its allegorical depth, even without recognizing every reference, the power of “Little, Big” remains undiminished. This is a book that invites rereading, promising new discoveries with each return visit. It is undoubtedly a journey, at times challenging, but ultimately, for those willing to immerse themselves in its intricate world, it proves to be one of the most rewarding fantasy novels ever written. “Little, Big” is more than just a story; it’s an exploration of what makes us human, what connects us to something larger than ourselves, and the enduring magic that resides within the fabric of our lives. It truly exemplifies how “The Things that Make us Happy / Make us Wise.”
