Unexpected delight worthy of 100 golden stars!
Flora has anterograde amnesia and she rocks! She does stupid stuff, I concede, but HOW she does it! Gosh! The wisdom that shines along is unsurpassable.
!Beware of spoilers!
DD 23/02/2018. A beautiful fantasy of a book! The premise is stupid-ish, of course. Still, no one said we can't switch on our fantasies every once in a while and think of the world as some miracle in the making. And because it's SO invoking, it basically grabs you and doesn't allow you to leave this world, for a while, I am willing to forgo my ranting on the medical inconsistencies and logical impossibilities of the plotline. I'll skip the ranting alogether, since after all, we all are alowed to immerse into the land of fantasies and lounge there, for a bit.
This is my new favourite, for today! I can't get over it! It's a wild, raucous pleasure of a book. A distillation of a style. A rarest gem totally unexpected of YA genre.
This novel is no thriller but it is thrilling nonetheless. More so than many of the actual thrillers! I did expect the twist (which I won't disclose so as not to spoil it) but still, it was relly well built into the storyline.
I'll be adding more to this review once I'm a bit more sane coherent again and have internalised this trailblazer of a novel (at least that's what it feels like to me now!). I think, this might be one of the highest points of my reading year, emotionally.
Q:
His replies are sparkling and golden.
...
There is nothing, I find myself typing, that people do together that I wouldn’t do with you, if you wanted to. (c)
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According to everything I’ve just read, this house has been an enchanted haven of love for days and days. It has been a gorgeous place, a glowing new universe. Everything has been flawless and perfect. ...
I walk downstairs trying to make sense of my reality. I am in love. I write love letters on the computer, and I get love letters back. This is an enchanted place. I am seventeen and I love a boy. Before that I was ten, and now I have grown up. (c)
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I approve of my past self’s actions, assuming that it was me that started it. (c)
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I should never write things that aren’t true. (c)
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There might or might not be a breath-taking stream of emails between me and Drake: I don’t entirely believe the Flora who wrote that it happened. I am scared I will just find my side of them. I do not want to have been emailing him like a poor little damaged girl. That would be unbearable.
... I read through it with increasing amazement and excitement. (c)
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There are post-it notes everywhere, and lots of them say things like: ‘I LOVE HIM’ and ‘he wants to see me naked’. I gather them all up... (c)
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Hey, he writes. Have you noticed something? You’re living independently. You’ve been in that house on your own for ages. You’ve been to the police, done some investigating, set up a FB account and made friends with people mainly called Jacob Banks. You can do anything. You are brave.
I am brave. The thought is intoxicating. (c)
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I take the stone out and look at it. I forget everything, but I will not forget the story of this stone. It is small and smooth in my hand. (c)
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The album is over. I put on a CD by the Beatles at random and discover that I love it. The album is called Abbey Road, and I wonder whether I have listened to it before or whether this is me hearing it for the first time. I write it on a post-it note: I love Abbey Road. ...
There is rain falling outside, splattering onto the windows. I put some music on, the Beatles, something called Abbey Road and I find I like it. (c) Such a sad little detail. Imagine not remembering the songs you love. On the upside (if you happen to be brave enough to find one in this situation!), you could fall in love with songs each time anew. On the downside you would never get to remember them.
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I decide to leave them a message. ‘Hi,’ I say. ‘It’s me. Flora. Call me when you can. See you soon!’ I press one, and then I say it again.
I write on a lined piece of paper that is next to the phone: Left a message on their phone. I add up the number of times I have already written this on the piece of paper and see that I have left them thirty-four messages. They will certainly know that I am thinking of them. (c)
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I struggle on upwards, because I want to know what is here and why I have the map. It feels like a message from the universe. It feels a mission. I wanted an adventure, and here is one, given to me. (c)
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‘There you are!’ she says. ‘At last. Have you got me the –’ She pauses. She looks at me. Her eyes are cloudy and she is much older than she used to be. She looks so old that she must be nearly dead. ‘Have you got anything for me?’ she says, in the end.
‘No,’ I say. ‘Do you know where my parents are?’
‘Do you like strawberry jam?’
‘You used to take the jam jars.’
‘Come in!’
It feels as if I have passed some sort of test... (c) Age and illness can be at odds with human self.
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I am going to be myself on this trip.
I put in the books I need to remind me of who I am, and write a long message to my future self about where I am going and why and what I need to do when I get there. I read an account I have written about going to Drake’s aunt and uncle’s house and taking lots of his things. I find all those things and pack every one of them. I pack stones and shells, with a note telling me why.
I print out the emails, so I can read them wherever I am.
I don’t print the one that just arrived.
I write notes of times and flight numbers. I write my passport number. (c)
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You should always get a window seat, because that way you can tell where you are. I write that down in my notebook, and see that it becomes my second rule for life. (c)
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I am doing the bravest thing of my life. I have been reading my notes without stopping, so I feel as if, right now, I know what I am doing. (c)
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Travelling is exciting, as long as you do exactly as you’re told... I wanted to ask someone if I could just sit and wait, but when I realized no one cared, I decided I would. (c)
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Some of them... are scientists. I know this because one got on the plane at Tromsø wearing a T-shirt that had the words ‘IT’S SCIENCE, BITCHES’ written on it, and others greeted him raucously. (c)
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I hold my two stones in my hand. I know I am going to forget in a minute. I hope I won’t be scared. (c)
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There are mountains on all sides of me, covered in snow. The town seemed to be small, as the airport bus drove me through it, and I am now standing at its very edge. The mountains reach up, disappearing in the snow clouds, and the island stretches away. I have come to the top of the planet, the end of the Earth, to find the man I love, the man who makes me remember. I am here. I remind myself of it, again and again. I take a pen, push up my sleeve a little way, and write it on my wrist: I am in Svalbard.
...
He has come to find me. I smile, and my smile turns into a laugh. I start to walk towards him, and then I break into a run. I will run into his arms. This is the end of my journey.
This is it: I came to the magical snowy place, and I have found my happy ending. It has happened. I made it happen. I have done a brave thing and it worked. I must always be brave. This is definitely one of my rules.
We will talk and laugh now. (c)
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I am capable of more than I imagined.
...
It worked! I am brilliant. I can make things happen. No one did that for me. I did it myself. ...
I pick up the key the man gave me, and then carefully type in the four numbers from the inside of my wrist when he hands me the little keypad. They are the only numbers I have to hand, and it turns out that they work. (c)
Q: You can do more things than anyone but Drake has ever believed you could do. He is your magical future. When you get to Svalbard, all you have to do is find him and everything will be happy. You’re going to travel on an aeroplane. (c) Flora's notes to self are a habit some of might really want to consider adopting.
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I send it, then worry that it sounds odd. However, I am odd. That text is probably normal. (c)
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If all else fails I will ask around until I find out where the satellite place is, and I will go there and sit next to a satellite until he arrives.
I want to go to Flambards.
That is a stupid thought. I am in the Arctic. (c)
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This seems so weird that it’s not even scary. It could be a different universe. It’s so different from anything else that is in my head that I push away all my worry and fear. ... Even I cannot get lost when there is only one road. (c)
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Do NOT leave town, because polar bears live there and they eat people. If you leave town you have to have a gun and know how to use it, and that means I AM ONLY ALLOWED TO LEAVE THE TOWN IF I’M WITH SOMEONE ELSE WHO HAS A GUN. DO NOT HEAD OUT OF TOWN EVEN IF IT LOOKS PRETTY. ALWAYS BE IN A PLACE WITH BUILDINGS. (c)
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Do not stray into polar bears’ territory. That is now one of my rules for life. I stop and write it into my book. (c)
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This seems to be the way it works in this place, which is nowhere near Penzance because it’s the town of Longyearbyen, on the island of Spitsbergen, in the archipelago of Svalbard, surrounded by the Arctic Sea. That list of difficult names makes me triumphant. (c)
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FLORA’S STORY. READ THIS IF YOU FEEL CONFUSED.
You have ANTEROGRADE AMNESIA. You are good at keeping things in your head for a couple of hours, and then you forget them. When you forget them, you feel a sudden confusion. This is OK: it is normal for you.
When you feel confused, you have to look at your hand, your notes, your phone and this book. These things help to remind you of where you are and what is happening. You have become very, very good at writing things down. Your name on your hand makes you feel grounded, and you always follow your clues and remind yourself of what is going on.
You remember us, and you remember your best friend Paige, and other people you used to know up until you were ten. Other people you forget, but that’s OK because people around here know you and they understand.
You’ll never live anywhere but Penzance, because this is the only place in which you’re safe. This town is mapped in your mind, and it is your home. You will always live with us, and we will always look after you and you will be fine.
You are brilliant and strong. You are not weird.
You are very good at reading and writing, and you are better at noticing things than lots of medically unremarkable people are.
We will always make sure you have everything you need. You take medication twice a day, and you always will. (c)
Q:
... unlacing these boots, which have magically appeared on my feet as precisely the correct footwear for the location. My old trainers are in my bag, somehow. (c)
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I know exactly where I am (Longyearbyen) and why I am here (Drake) and where I am going (the Arctic Guesthouse). I am walking in the right direction. I am taking deep breaths, relishing every second of this overwhelming relief.
...
I don’t know where I was going, but that doesn’t matter. I am happy, right here and right now. I am a girl standing in the snow, marvelling at the flakes of whiteness dancing in the air around me. I am in a beautiful place and a wonderful thing is happening. Nothing else counts for anything.
I am in the moment. Living in the moment when I can must be one of my rules for life. You don’t need a memory for that.
I forget that I have ever forgotten anything. When the flakes become smaller and the clouds start to blow away to snow in a different magical place, I feel as if I’ve been asleep for a full night. I am full of energy, and ready for anything. (c)
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The kitchen is tidy, and has cupboards in it with signs telling people not to use certain things, and not to steal each other’s milk. That gives me an idea, so I put the kettle on, find a mug, and take a tea bag from a box of them, and find the best-looking milk in the fridge. No one, I am sure, would mind me taking a tiny bit. (c)
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Even if this place is all in my head, I am here, on my own, and I am living. This is real. (c)
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I look down at my left hand. I have written BE NORMAL on it. I see Agi looking at it too.
‘I should also remind myself of this sometimes,’ she says, with a nod. (c)
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Today I am going to be brave and normal. To be normal is to be brave. I am going to sit quietly and listen to other people. I will ask them questions, rather than answering questions. I will stare at the mountains and the water, and I will breathe the cold fresh air and I will be quiet. I will leave this boat with nobody thinking there is anything odd about me. I will let everything happen in the way it is meant to happen.I don’t care where I am, or why. I am on a boat in otherworldly scenery wearing a warm coat. That, right now, is enough.
...
My head is clear. I take deep breaths, and stare at the landscape, with its ridges and spikes, its snowy valleys and black rocks. There is nothing in the universe but this.
I smile. I do not talk to people. I just breathe and stare and exist. This is the Arctic. I am here. This is my present. This is my world.
I am a little girl; I am comfortable like that. I feel the world enfolding me. I feel safe. I close my eyes and think about school and birthday parties and big brothers and the exciting day out we’re going to have tomorrow at Flambards. I can’t wait to go on the pedalcopters with Jacob pedalling me around. I lose myself in happiness. I want to go to Flambards. (c)
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This seems so weird that it’s not even scary. (c)
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A long time passes. This new universe encloses me entirely and the old one melts into nothingness. (c)
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The inside of my head is out of control. It is on fire. It is snowing. It is a wild jungle. It is an Arctic wilderness. It is everything that has ever happened and everything that ever will happen, all at once.
Time is a random thing. It is the thing that makes us older. Humans use it to organize the world. They have invented a system to try to make order from randomness. The other humans, all of them but me, live their lives by hours and minutes and days and seconds, but those things are nothing. The universe would laugh at our attempts to organize it, if it could be bothered to notice them.
Time is the thing that makes our bodies shrivel and decay. That is why they are scared of it. It doesn’t affect me: I know I will never get old.
I am not like the rest of them. I can look out of the window for a while, and in human terms I have missed a night. I can sit for hours and hours at the breakfast table on my own, staring at the bread and fish in front of me; I can sit there and stare and wait until a day and a night have passed and it’s the next day’s breakfast, and then the woman I like will come and sit down beside me and it will turn out that in human terms, only two minutes have happened.
I stride through days and nights. I do not need to sleep.
I am superwoman. I am here for Drake so of course I will find him. (c)
Q:
Although I feel that nothing could hurt me, a fight with a polar bear is probably not a thing I should seek out. If I have already seen them, there is no need for me to do it again. (c)
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‘That’s right. I’m OK, thanks. A bit …’ I cannot finish the sentence because I have no idea which word to use to end it. A bit superhuman? A bit fearless? A bit alive? (c)
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It turns out that I just want to sit here and cry and cry and cry.
...
‘I’m happy,’ I tell them, through my tears. ‘I’m happy.’ (c)
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‘Can I have four beers please?’ I ask the barman, as politely as I can. If I drink two of them quickly, I will catch up with the other people and be normal. (c)
Q:
You need to make the most of the freedom you have right now.
...
Be yourself. If you’re difficult or weird or strange or funny, that’s OK. That’s you, Flora. The person you are now, with all your imperfections and all your difficulties – the person who can be a total pain in the arse, who causes her parents to tear their hair out, who writes adorable wild emails, who fell in love with a boy on a Cornish beach and followed him to the end of the Earth – that’s you. That’s my sister. You have amnesia, but you are alive. Live your life. (c)
Q:
‘I come from Oslo, and Svalbard called me, even though I’m not really the rugged adventurous type. Like you, I had to come. Some of us are meant to be here. We need this place.’ He sweeps a hand around at the jagged horizon, the rocks, the snow, the wilderness that goes on and on. ‘We need to be small specks in wild nature, by the pole. The midnight sun. The midday darkness. The Northern Lights. It called to you, Flora, and you came. You overcame everything, and you came here, alone. You are the bravest person I’ve ever met.’ (c)
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I will miss having feelings. I will miss thinking that I had a real memory. (c)
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She never wanted anything to happen. (c)
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You’ve achieved all this by writing to yourself. You have used the written word to circumvent some of the work the neural pathways should be doing. You’ve made your notebook your external memory, your memory stick. You are brilliant.
Then, this year, you kissed a boy, and remembered it, and chased him to the top of the world. (c)
Q:
Flora’s Rules for Life
Don’t panic, because everything is probably all right, and if it’s not, panicking will make it worse.
Always try to get a window seat, so you can tell exactly where you are.
Be brave.
Do not stray into polar bears’ territory.
Live in the moment whenever you can. You don’t need a memory for that.
If you have bad skin, lipstick will stop people noticing it.
Don’t eat whale.
Do not drink beer because it will make you sick.
Don’t go to Svalbard in winter.
If you see a cat with no ears, you should take it home. (c)