What a wonderful retelling of the Brothers Grimm fairy tale! Those who have not read the story during childhood should go through this now. It will help you to understand the meaning of the poem inserted at the very beginning of the book.
“My mother she killed me,
My father he ate me,
My sister, little Marlinchen,
Gathered together my bones,
Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
Laid them beneath the juniper tree,
Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird I am.”
From the moment I cracked open this book, I was transported into a world that’s both familiar and utterly strange. So buckle up my readers, it is not going to be an easy read. Your emotions are going to catch hold of you. Comyns takes the old Grimm’s fairy tale and weaves it into a tapestry of 1980s Britain. The description is so vivid, that you can almost smell the dusty velvet and hear the seagulls circling over Twickenham Green, ice melting and freezing with the change of season.
Bella is a young woman with a complicated past and a face scarred by a car accident by her lover Stephen. Her voice is raw and honest, pulling you in with its matter-of-fact tone as she recounts her life’s twists and turns. There’s something both heartbreaking and darkly funny about the way she describes her relationships with the spiteful boyfriend who “alternately petted or teased” her and the mysterious encounter with a young negro at a party that leads to an unexpected pregnancy.
And she gave birth to a coloured baby whom she refused to believe at first as her child. She was Marline, aka Tommy.
Comyns has this incredible knack for making the ordinary feel slightly off-kilter. The description of the narrator’s life in Twickenham – working in a frame shop and taking her daughter to nursery – is cosy on the surface. But there’s always this undercurrent of unease, like the “penetrating cockroaches” in her old flat or the way she describes blood as “such a deep brown colour and salty on my lips” after her accident.
The book isn’t all darkness, though. There are moments of hope and possibility even at the corner of the most vicious situation. Bella learnt to relive coming out of all the darkness that shrouded her life.
I love the way Comyns explores motherhood and identity. Our narrator’s relationship with Tommy is complex—there’s love there, but also a sense of disconnection that feels painfully real. The way she grapples with her past, and her scars, both physical and emotional, is poignant and touching. It’s messy and uncomfortable and so, so human.
“The Juniper Tree” isn’t an easy read, but it is greatly rewarding. Comyns takes a familiar story and turns it into something that feels entirely new, a modern fairy tale that’s equal parts beauty and brutality.
If you’re in the mood for a book that’ll haunt you long after you’ve finished it, pick up “The Juniper Tree.” Just don’t expect to walk away unscathed – this one’s got teeth and it’s not afraid to bite.
I only wish the little lad to come to life just as it happens in the fairy tale.
