*The Book of Wonder* is an aptly-titled book. Its potpourri of tales are not moving dramas, nor are they dense with intellectual themes; rather, each of them seems primarily designed to invoke a sense of wonder in the reader–a goal that might seem trivial, but which in truth is as important as its achievement is elusive. These stories have the power to awaken the feeling CS Lewis called Joy: a supremely pleasant longing for something beyond our experience that would vanish if it were fulfilled. (This is demonstrated particularly clearly in “The Wonderful Window.”) Yet Dunsany is not a wide-eyed idealist: he is a bit of a cynic, as evidenced by the ironic twists many of these stories end with. But these twists don’t (generally) undercut the sense of wonder: rather, they add to it by revealing to us how narrow and limited our expectations often are. That Dunsany is so capable of blending cynicism with wonder marks him as a great writer.
My one major critique of this collection, though, is that it ultimately does feel a bit lightweight. It’s meant to be so, so perhaps I’m being unfair, but I just don’t find it quite as satisfying as his more cohesive works like *The King of Elfland’s Daughter* and *The Gods of Pegana*. From what I know of Dunsnay’s personal life, it’s no coincidence that he didn’t write anything quite like this after the first World War: these are stories from a more innocent time, before the horrors of the 20th century forced mankind to confront evil on a scale unprecedented in history. Still, this are few books better described as *wonderful* than this.
by Kopaka-Nuva