Ordinarily, I thoroughly enjoy magical realism. Isabel Allende, Alice Hoffman, Sarah Addison Allen, the great Gabriel Garcia Marquez – I love their works that mix magic and the mundane, rational world. There is something about the best of their books that delights me, just thinking about Remedios the Beauty, the most beautiful woman in the world, folding white sheets as she floats away in the distance, makes me smile and think about the nature of beauty, wonder, and wisdom (and also whether I believe in clothes).
The Night Garden really wants to be a book by Sarah Addison Allen, it doesn’t try to reach the heights of Hoffman or Garcia Marquez. If a literary geneticist mixed a Harlequin Romance with one of Sarah Addison Allen’s books and a soupcon of Rappacini’s Daughter, this is what they’d get; it’s not TERRIBLE, but it’s not good either.
Olivia Pennywort has a problem. Somehow, during a childhood spent tending her dumbass dad’s garden of poisonous plants, she herself became poison. Like Beatrice in Rappaccini’s Daughter, the merest brush of her hand makes human skin break out in a rash, a condition that started when she was 15. She has spent the years since then avoiding contact, so for nine years she has isolated herself, never leaving the family farm.
Sam van Winkle, Olivia’s childhood friend and first boyfriend, has a problem. The van Winkles are famous in Green Valley for putting out fires, saving lives, and generally being heroes. But after a plane crash and dying for six minutes, Sam has not been able to feel anything on his skin. The doctors brought him back, but he feels like a part of him is still on the other side.
Sam returns to the Green Valley, and to Olivia. They remember each other with mixed love and pain, their teenaged breakup hurt them both. But the first time Olivia and Sam touch, bazinga, Sam can feel everything again! Yes indeedy, Olivia’s touch not only gave him a boner and a rash, but he could magically FEEL again. The only way it could have been better is if she’d smacked him on the forehead and screamed, “YOU ARE HEALED.”
The dialogue is clunky and embarrassing, both Olivia and Sam are consummate navel-gazers, and we, oh lucky readers, are privy to all their super dramatic thoughts of each other. Their conversations are laughable. I wanted them just to sit down and talk as if they were normal people instead of saying things like:
Sam: But Olivia, I want to touch you!
Olivia: NO Sam! I don’t want to hurt you! I won’t hurt you.
Sam: But I love you Olivia!
Olivia: And I love you Sam, I’ve always loved you. But I cannot touch you. I cannot touch anyone! Oh Sam…
Sam: Olivia, we can work this out. Somehow, I don’t know how, but let’s get married.
Olivia: Sam, I cannot marry you. I am poison. I must be alone, always alone. (She wrings her hands in her apron.) I am angry, but not at you, but I am angry, and sad, and I have not been in the poison garden in two days. I always knew it would be good between us, and it was. So good Sam! And now I have to go back to my poison garden. And I am sad Sam!
Sam: I must go put cream on my rash Olivia, but I will be back soon. I promise you. I WILL be back.
Oh good grief. It was embarrassing. Sam and Olivia don’t do things like read books, play cards, or watch movies, they just feel all their feelings, super dramatically. They talk, super dramatically. It’s all super dramatic.
I’m not against romance, I read a lot of romance. I even liked Sarah van Allen’s first book, I just think she might want to think about the way she approaches magical realism. The thing that makes it work that the characters have to accept the magical things that happen to them as normal or natural things. Think about Sally and Gillian, the sisters in Practical Magic. They don’t worry about the things they can do, it’s part of their family history. They may choose to use their powers or they may ignore them, but they don’t go around saying, “Oh woe, why is this happening to me? Why must we be witches?” They just order pizza, and go to work, and bake cakes and do the thousand other things people do every day.
And one other thing that got on my nerves...if I woke up tomorrow and was human poison ivy, I would not hide in my house for the rest of my life like Olivia. I'd get some long sleeves, and some gloves, and make it work. But Olivia and her dad just hid away and acted like their troubles were the worst ever.