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His authority was stifling. Aunt Margaret, frail as a pressed flower, seemed too cowed by his presence even to look at him.

Carter seemed to be saying something about female experience, that it had a different kind of relationship to reality than those breezy male characters I had previously met, confident in their role as subject and point of view. She remembered the lover made up out of books and poems she had dreamed of all summer; he crumpled like the paper he was made of before this insolent offhand terrifying maleness, filling the room with its reek.

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The Magic Toyshop – Angela Carter

It is interesting how reading moods and phases can change every year. In 2018, I was keen on reading newer books released by some of my favourite publishers, whetting my appetite for innovative writing whether in English or translated literature.

2019 has started out differently. I have been greatly drawn towards early to mid-20th century literature penned by women. I already loved a couple of Muriel Sparks and The Pumpkin Eater by Penelope Mortimer.

Right now, I am thoroughly enjoying Molly Keane’s Good Behaviour and Olivia Manning’s The Balkan Trilogy. And I hope to read more of Barbara Comyns, Barbara Pym, Elizabeth Taylor in the coming months and also get to Shirley Jackson and Anita Brookner, whose novels I have not yet read.

Now, into this list, I would also throw in Angela Carter – the focus of this post – whose The Magic Toyshop I simply adored.

The Magic Toyshop is a beguiling coming of age story that has shades of an adult fairy tale, both wonderfully surreal and grotesque all at once.

When the book opens, 15-year old Melanie is at the cusp of her sexual awareness, that she is a woman and no longer a girl.

The summer she was fifteen, Melanie discovered she was made of flesh and blood.

Melanie has a 12-year old brother Jonathan – a strange child, living in a world of his own, fixated on building his model ships – and a 5-year old sister Victoria who is still a toddler. Her parents are well-to-do, and she lives in a clean, well-kept, comfortable home. There is Mrs Rundle, the housekeeper to look after the kids.

In the first chapter, we learn that Melanie’s parents are travelling in the United States, and so the kids are under Mrs Rundle’s care back home.

Melanie, meanwhile, wanders around the house, musing on her newly discovered sexuality, and in the midst of all this, comes upon her mother’s wedding dress. She wears it even if it’s too big for her and steps into the garden. It all becomes too much and scared, she makes a run for the house only to realize it’s locked. She has no choice but to undress completely, climb up a tree to get to her bedroom, and drag her mother’s wedding dress along with her. This scene beautifully captures how Melanie is still in that transition phase, not really a child, but not exactly a grown woman either, somewhere in between. She finally lands in her room, the dress all torn, and a fear of how she is going to tell her mother about it.

But that moment never comes because a telegram arrives relaying the news that her parents are dead. Melanie is devastated. Her world turns upside down.

In the new world, Melanie, with her siblings, has to now stay with her mother’s brother Uncle Philip and his family in South London.

The train was a kind of purgatory, a waiting time, between the known and completed past and the unguessable future which had not yet begun.

Gradually, we are given a glimpse of the family. We learn that Aunt Margaret is incapable of speaking and communicates with her family by writing. Her younger brothers Francie and Finn stay in the same house, Uncle Philip’s apprentices, helping him in the toyshop and the workroom whenever required. Francie is a musician, while Finn has a flair for painting and carefree and more irreverent of the two.

Aunt Margaret immediately takes to the kids especially Victoria and she to her. The chapters when Melanie moves in with her aunt and uncle are particularly poignant. Still beset by grief at the death of her parents and yearning for her old life, she finds it hard to adjust to her new surroundings. Although Aunt Margaret and her brothers do their best to make Melanie comfortable, Uncle Philip’s menacing and dominating personality casts a pall of gloom.

Jonathan, strangely self-sufficient in his own way, immediately adapts to his new life and his penchant for making boats works to his advantage. Victoria, who is still too young to grasp the drastic changes in her circumstances, looks upon Aunt Margaret as her own mother. It’s as if her previous life didn’t exist.

A far cry from her clean and comfortable upbringing in the country, dirt and grime permeates Melanie’s new South London habitat, and Finn is at the epicenter of it. In fact, it reminded me of Charles Dickens and his masterful novel Bleak House, where the opening page is evocative in its description of a grubby and filthy London.

Eventually, Melanie too comes to love Aunt Margaret and actively starts taking part in their family life, which excludes Uncle Philip of course.

Uncle Philip is monstrous, just the kind of villain you would encounter in a fairytale.

His authority was stifling. Aunt Margaret, frail as a pressed flower, seemed too cowed by his presence even to look at him.

He is brilliant at making toys though but he bullies Finn. Finn’s insouciance particularly infuriates him.

One of Uncle Philip’s pleasures is staging puppet shows with the family as his audience, and here too he demands perfection from Finn. It is symbolic of how he is a tyrant in the household, the family members at his beck and call, as if they are live puppets whom he strings along.

There is one such puppet show staged in the latter half of the novel, at the centre of which is Melanie, which sets the tone for an action packed conclusion, and once again puts a question mark over her future.

Meanwhile, Melanie and Finn are drawn to each other. Carter has subtly and sensitively explored Melanie and Finn’s relationship where Melanie is simultaneously both attracted to and repelled by him, by how dirty and slovenly he is.

The curl of his wrist was a chord of music, perfect, resolved. Melanie suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

It was as if he had put on the quality of maleness like a flamboyant cloak. He was a tawny lion poised for the kill – and was she the prey? She remembered the lover made up out of books and poems she had dreamed of all summer; he crumpled like the paper he was made of before this insolent, off-hand, terrifying maleness, filling the room with its reek. She hated it. But she could not take her eyes off him.

Carter is such an interesting writer and her prose is so luscious and captivating. She has an uncanny ability to weave fairytale elements into the mundane and it all seems so effortless.

Here is Melanie, in the first chapter, looking at her mother’s wedding photo…

Photographs are chunks of time you can hold in your hand, this picture a piece of her mother’s best and most beautiful time.

The first chapter is particularly strong in the way she has evoked Melanie’s sexual awakening and her curiosity about her body. Incest is also later hinted at but so expertly handled by Carter that it does not feel shocking. It is a wonderful coming-of-age tale and the dreamlike quality of the writing helps in blunting the impact of the darker shades in the novel.

The Magic Toyshop reminded me a little of Carter’s equally strong The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories, where her radical take on fairy tales (as we have known them) was also painted with darker elements and hues of feminism.

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