This review was supposed to be part of a "Reviews of cool books you want to read even when not forced" article someone was writing for the school newspaper. I got jumped by old mister migraine (sometimes he's coy, sometimes he's brutal), so communicating with my species was temporarily removed from the list of possible activities. I finished it anyhow, and thought it would be a shame to waste it entirely.
Review of A Soldier of the Great War and Winter's Tale
Mark Helprin’s novels are magical realism, which accepts as truth everything in the half-world of imagination that you feel is true but must remind yourself is not. And in that it differs from fantasy, which is only what you wish were true.
What this means is that a 20-year-old feels that he can out-race the girl he loves, though her horse is far better than his, the mounted police, though they are trained soldiers, and even a train—and he does. A teenage boy is terrified that the smutty pictures hidden under his bed will defy the laws of physics and burn through the floor, dropping to the floor below and into his father’s hands at dinner—and they do. A white horse escapes his master, and the exhilaration of freedom explodes within him, so that he no longer runs, but flies.
The greatness of the novels is that in freeing the world of imagination, intuition—which is also felt to be true—is freed and allowed to speak clearly. In the novel, a father is able to respond correctly when his son hurts him. The rational faculty might prompt him to forgive so that he will be forgiven, because his son didn’t really mean it, or because his relationship with his son is too precious to be lost. These are all true, but they merely surround the center of truth, which is that the father forgives the son because he knows that his son may never forgive himself.
And throughout, each sentence is a delight. Mr. Helprin clearly loves the English language and revels in his beloved’s charms.
