A Book Review: The Awakening of Miss Prim by Natalia Sanmartin Fenollera (2013)

“This is a strange place, full of very odd people,” Miss Prudencia Prim says about San Ireneo and its inhabitants. 

Miss Prim arrives in San Ireneo in response to a help wanted ad for a librarian, “Preferably without work experience. Graduates and Postgraduates need not apply.”  Though she is sorely overqualified, she persuades The Man in the Wing Chair to give her the job. 

Miss Prim seems well-rounded, smart and educated, but when she encounters The Man in the Wing Chair and the characters of the village, her world view is shaken by theirs, but can’t seem to write them off as unreasonable or win an argument. 

She is an intellectually stiff woman, dedicated to a secular life, thinking the role of librarian might be a nice change of pace from the busy life she had in the city.  But she isn’t prepared for the uncommon household, or uncommon employer, known only to the reader as The Man in the Wing Chair.

As with most every book I read, it takes me a few pages or chapters to acclimate to the writing style, until I don’t notice it anymore and the story starts to pop.

Strangely enough, though I regularly translate first-person experiences into third person objective accounts of travel adventures, I found that in this book, the third-person, subjective POV seemed a little off-putting and stilted at first, but maybe that’s because it was translated from Spanish?

The arguments between the characters seem a little forced, the conversations about certain subjects too deliberate and informational to seem natural.

Of course, like many books painting a picture of a world view and its opponents, this book could have been over in 20 pages if the Miss Prim would have had the guts to stay in a conversation without walking out in a huff every time she felt insulted. But then, we would miss the opportunity to walk through the delightful village of San Ireneo and meet all the key characters.

The story and writing were adequate, the quotes and propositions the book propounded were of the most superb, enjoyable breath of fresh air I’ve read in a long time. For example, the member of the Feminist’s League had this quote from G. K. Chesterton above her fireplace: 

Ten thousand women marched through the streets of London saying: “We will not be dictated to,” and then went off to become stenographers. 

The village is full of feminists who weren’t angry or stifled, men whose faith, principles and commitments didn’t disintegrate at the sign of a beautiful woman’s affections but with backgrounds entrenched with reality of love, loss, pasts and misunderstandings.  

What the author presents are what looks on the face of things, like old, outdated, antiquated ideas, presented in a refreshing light, albeit, an unsubtle light. When Miss Prim eventually stays for a conversation or explanation, the conversation usually involves, “I’m surprised at you …” or “You are young and wouldn’t understand …” somewhat elementary techniques for exposition. 

The book is full of characters that go against the grain of the rush of the world, slow down and mean what they say, live what they believe in a way that is so counter-cultural, that it probably will leave a bad taste in many people mouths. 

In the end, the book knocks down the proposition that romantic love conquers all, that romantic love, when kindled, should be indulged despite all else, despite faith, despite other commitments, despite reason itself. With The Man in the Wing Chair's character the book presents faith as something to run to when all else fails, something better, stronger and more valuable than even romantic love. And that is a breath of fresh air that I laud over and above all the tiny flaws of this book. It gives the story depth, something to stick in my mind, to think about, to reflect on. It does not feed that shallow sugary addiction to easy and uncomplicated pictures of love portrayed in so many contemporary novels. 

It broke the rules of popular fiction, but is an international best seller and for this, Miss Fenollera deserves kudos.