A Prisoner in Fairyland
By Algeron Blackwood

This modern classic fairy tale was enchanting and delightful. A Prisoner in Fairyland, was truly written in the esteemed language and style of the finest authors in the world. The character development was insightful and revealing of their inner most thoughts, emotions, and desires. The story was original and very appealing. This fairy tale changed how I look at the world with its’ amazing tale.
The story began with the character Henry Rogers, who was a retired successful businessman and had a plan to help the needy of the world. He hired a former co-worker, Minks, to become his personal secretary and to handle all of his affairs including the development of his grand scheme, as he called it.
Rogers decides to take a short vacation at his cousin’s house in Switzerland. Little does he know that he will become enthralled with life in this small village, his cousin’s children, and the power of thoughts, sympathy, and dreams. His journey into this awareness helps him to understand how the world is so small and everything in the world connects by the power of unconscious thought. ( )

I believe inherited this from my father and I have never read it through. Dipping into it lately, it is not as grim as I somehow expected, but rather twee. It reminds me a bit of Sylvie and Bruno in that it seems to be a mix of fantasy with a rather saccharine conventional novel. ( )

I began reading this, and quite honestly I was inclined, on putting it down when I arrived at a station, not to pick it up again. It's that genre of wordy, ambience-focused novel full of sentiment and petty philosophy, reading like Hans Christian Anderson or some other moralistic fairy-tale, and generally not really going anywhere.

However, I did pick it up briefly just to confirm that before striking it from my list, and found myself reading another page or ten. Then I felt like I couldn't just quickly skim it, as I'd intended, but needed to somehow do justice to it by slow careful reading of the prose, which is the meat and merit of the thing if it has any, and I ought to put it by for the next day. There's something to it at least, however prosy it might be - something that feels to me like it deserves a fair reading on its own lights, not a hasty dismissal.

I did read on without much trouble, and found it a gentle, relaxing read when I was in the right mood. It's something to while away a long winter evening, with a mug of tea to hand and maybe a crackling fire. Eventually though, that long gentleness undermines it. I didn't feel any particular pull to find out what happened, because there was no real sense that anything was happening - it's more like a very long vignette than a story per se. I'm sure there's some kind of resolution, but I felt content to assume it was one of the standard Andersenian morals and leave it at that. Maybe I'll come back to it one day. ( )