“Happiness is a very fragile thing.” (Barbara Comyns)

It was JacquiWine’s review of The Juniper Tree by Barbara Comyns (1985) last month that encouraged me pick this from the TBR in time for Novellas in November, hosted by hosted by Cathy and Bookish Beck.

I really enjoy Comyns’ individual voice. She can give a sharp edge to stories presented seemingly without guile which works well within the premise here, taking as a starting point the Grimm Brothers fairytale of the same name:

My mother she killed me,
My father he ate me,
My sister, little Marlinchen,


Gathered together all my bones
Tied them in a silken handkerchief,


Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird I am.

Thankfully Comyns writes a less cannibalistic/abusive version but there are fairytale motifs from the story scattered throughout. This gives the novella a somewhat unreal, atemporal quality, although references are made to the 1980s.

The striking opening scene directly draws on the Grimm tale, as Bella Winter (physically similar to Snow White, although she feels highly self-conscious of a facial scar) travels to Richmond in search of a job:

“I noticed a beautiful fair woman standing in the courtyard outside her house like a statute, standing there so still. As I drew nearer I saw that her hands were moving. She was paring an apple out there in the snow and as I passed, looking at her out of the sides of my eyes, the knife slipped, and suddenly there was blood on the snow.”

The affluent woman is Gertrude, married to Bernard.  Bella ultimately gets a job over the river in Twickenham with Mary:

“Her teeth were small and pointed rather as an animal’s, indeed she resembled an animal with her delicate boned face with its merry expression, perhaps a squirrel.”

But this doesn’t prevent Bella becoming more and more entwined in Gertrude and Bernard’s life. It’s not surprising that she is in search of a family. Her mother is cold and judgemental:

“There was one shadow that I kept in the back of my mind as much as possible, and that was my mother. To me she was almost like a wicked fairy, poor woman.”

Bella also left behind a selfish lover Stephen, who was driving when the accident occurred which left her with the scar on her face, for which he blames her.

But Bella has a young daughter Marline, also known as Tommy, who she loves dearly. Tommy is biracial and both she and her mother face racism throughout. However, they build a happy life, living above Mary’s antique/junk shop and transforming a “gritty” back yard into a pretty walled garden.

They regularly cross the river to Gertrude and Bernard’s abundant, if carefully curated, home. Bella enjoys sitting with Gertrude under the titular tree, where territorial magpies build their nest and watch the comings and goings.

It’s hard to say more without venturing into spoilers, but if this is sounding a bit contrived and fey, there are enough prosaic details to ground the story, and humour too:

“I was glad to return to the freedom of the shop and to be queen of my own home—eat cornflakes or baked beans for supper, wear a dressing gown for breakfast and read books that did not improve the mind in bed.”

I also thought there was scepticism regarding relationships between the sexes here, no guarantee of happy-ever-afters. As well as positive portrayals, both Stephen and Bella’s mother are abusive to partners, and Bernard is in an ambiguous Pygmalion role. Families are shown as places of anger and destruction as well as nurturing, and Bella has to chose her people to create a happy life.

The undercurrent of death also stops the story feeling whimsical, and there is a very upsetting death which takes place, precipitating Bella needing inpatient mental health care. Although not gratuitous or gruesome, it is something some readers would want to avoid so if you want to know, DM me!

The introduction to my NYRB edition mentions the ending being abrupt, but I have to disagree. The ending ties up everything as much as it can and I can’t see anywhere further the story could go, having fulfilled its fairytale basis and continued into a pragmatic 1980s conclusion.

To end, a very young Björk making her film debut in an adaptation of the Grimm Tale:

22 thoughts on ““Happiness is a very fragile thing.” (Barbara Comyns)

  1. Lovely review, Madame Bibi – I’m so glad you enjoyed this one. It’s interesting what you say about Bernard adopting a Pygmalion-style role as the protagonist’s ‘educator’ – that’s a very good way of expressing it!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thanks Jacqui, and thank you for pushing me to get to this one with your wonderful review!

      Bernard is quite ambiguous isn’t he, and those Pygmalion style roles can be unnerving – I thought Comyns did it so well here.

      Like

  2. I’ve read Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead and The House of Dolls, very different from each other but sharing a dark sense of humour. I have copies of a few more Comyns novels including this one. I meant to pick one up for Novellas in November but I think it’s now more likely to be A Touch of Mistletoe for Christmastime!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. A young Bjork: cool! Short of The Twelve Dancing Princesses, I scarcely ever do/would recognise retellings of Grimms’ tales for no good reason. (I have to remind myself that Atwood’s The Robber Bride is The Robber Bridegroom too.) The titles just seem like such solid entities on their own steam. I’m sure I’ve said before that I’m a Comyns fan who has read very little Comyns and I really should make a point of doing so! (Sisters by a River, The Vet’s Daughter, and one other, I believe, not this one)

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’ve not read those two, but I do have them in the TBR!

      I agree, Grimm’s Tales exist beyond themselves by now.

      I hope you enjoy further Comyns! I’m hoping to read A Touch of Mistletoe in December, although I don’t think it’s particularly Christmasy…

      Like

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.