Christopher
and his mom are starting over; just the two of them in a new town. Despite his learning
difficulties and inability to keep words in place on a page, he tries to make
the best of second grade. Embarrassed at his struggles to learn, and bullied
regularly, there’s no doubt that Christopher’s young life is filled with
challenges.
One day, everything
changes. Seized by a sudden and inexplicable desire to enter the woods near his
home, Christopher disappears for six days. On his return, everything is
different. Christopher has no recollection of the time away other than the
presence of a nice man who helped him home. In addition to this apparent
amnesia, Christopher and his mother realise that after the woods, he suddenly
has no problems reading or with math – he seems to have been imbued with instant
academic brilliance.
As Christopher
and his mom try to come to terms with these changes, she can’t but worry about
him. Her son, usually such an open boy, has become secretive, sneaky, and
dedicated to building a treehouse in the woods at all costs. Led by the nice
man, Christopher knows things that his mother does not. It is integral that he
follows the man’s instructions, or the horrors contained in the imaginary world
will break though to the real one.
There’s something
incredibly sinister and disconcerting about having such a young protagonist in
such a mature story, and all the more so given the enormous emotional, physical
and psychological trials he experiences. In addition to the cruelty of
subjecting a young child to a narrative filled with mental illness, religious
fanaticism, and a horde of adult taboos, it creates somewhat of a barrier between
reader and story. That a not-yet eight-year-old child can handle such immense
darkness with such grace, selflessness and maturity screams unrealistic,
regardless of the supernatural or preternatural cause. However, the brilliance
of this risky move is that we see Chbosky’s world through eyes not yet dulled
by cynicism or society – every event (no matter how unbelievable) is taken at
face value – through the eyes of a child, anything is possible.
Regardless
of one’s desire to spare the protagonist from what he experiences, Imaginary
Friend is completely absorbing, and completely disturbing. It is a feat of
literary prowess, with a philosophical backbone that lays a foundation for
exploration, reflection, and discussion of so many topics society deems unbelievable,
impossible, or improbable. Imaginary Friend speaks our sense of normalcy
– of what is right, what is wrong, and what is not discussed.
Perhaps Chbosky realized
that only child-sized feet could navigate the literary minefields of morality,
religion, mental illness, and societal degradation. Whatever the reason, this
book is powerful, dark, distressing, and brilliant, and no review could do justice to such a layered story without giving too much away, or flattening a larger than life narrative.
Imaginary
Friend by Stephen Chbosky is published by Orion Fiction, a Hachette company,
and is available in South Africa from Jonathan Ball Publishers.