“Treasures Hidden among Tragedy”: A Review of The Amber Crane, by Malve von Hassell
(Odyssey Books, 2021). ISBN: ISBN: 978-1922311238 (ebook)
The Amber Crane is
richly researched historical fiction with complex metaphors and a touch of
magical realism. Before you begin, have a look at the cover, which holds a clue:
a squadron of World War II planes and, amidst them, a crane carved in a chunk
of amber.
Once you begin to read, you’ll see that the story primarily
takes place in 1644, during The Thirty Years’ War (although no one living and
fighting in that time knew how long it would be).
The story’s protagonist is Peter, who is training under a
master to join the amber guild and become a paternostermaker,
so named because they mostly made rosary beads. Like my 22-year-old daughter,
Peter has never known life without war, and it has touched him in many ways. His
older brother Lorenz—handsome, charming, and popular—who served in Queen
Christina of Sweden’s Army, was killed during the war, although it was not
combat related.
Peter’s mother died of grief at the news of the death of her
son, and his father sometimes seems as though he would have preferred it to be
Peter. The novel has many characters who lost their husbands and children on
the battlefields. Peter also has a sister named Effie, who had suffered severe
seizures as a child, is unable to look after herself and becomes the target of
rape. His love for her is so great, at the halfway point of the book he makes a
decision concerning Effie that we immediately know will have terrible
consequences for him.
As Peter struggles to finish his studies before testing for
membership in the amber guild while also looking after Effie, he interacts with
members of the town, including Marte, the privileged daughter of the
mayor.
The carnage and disruption of war is the central theme of
this book. Von Hassell is masterful at showing us how it is the ordinary,
everyday people—the soldiers and merchants and their families—that suffer so
greatly while leaders of countries make war upon each other.
The Duke of Prussia oversaw the amber guilds at the time,
having taken control of them back from a private company, and there were many
stringent rules concerning how much amber one artisan could have. When Peter
finds pieces of amber washed up on the beach and decides to keep them to work
on in secret, he is in defiance of the law. One of those pieces reminds him of
a crane. This piece also sets the magical realism of the novel into motion.
Von Hassell’s stories read like fairy tales, with multilayered
metaphors and provocative, haunting images. Despite the bleakness of war, there
are abundant references to flowers. In terms of the magical realism, a quarter
of the way through the story, Peter begins having conversations in the dream
world (where everything appears in gray and black) with a girl named Lioba who
lives in the war-ravaged world of 1944, when the Nazis are on the decline and
the Russians are marching closer. Von Hassell writes these chapters in present
tense—an excellent device to help the reader delineate between Peter’s waking
and dreaming states. Although humankind has progressed technologically (electricity,
coal furnaces) in the three centuries that separate them, warfare has also
become more deadly. Lioba is usually on the run. There are several violent
encounters and narrow escapes from death. She gives Peter perspective while
Peter tries to help her evade the encroaching Russian army and the thugs who
have taken over her town.
The stakes for both of the worlds Peter inhabits
simultaneously raise as Peter nears his guild test and the Russians arrive in
1944, with violence and despair in abundance whether Peter is sleeping or
awake. In Lioba’s world, parents are committing suicide and ships full of
refugees are being torpedoed (another example of the technology–morality gap).
A beautiful bridge scene between the waking and sleeping
states is a piece of theatre presented on Shrove Tuesday, just before Lent. The
play is a stylized confrontation between Death and Community. In the course of
the scene, the theme of not seeing what is right before your eyes because of
your being ensconced too deeply in your own private world is prevalent, and
illuminates the dangers of the artist who must see all but sometimes only sees
what they wish to. Further examining the world between the Real and the
Imagined, and the overlapping Liminal zone of the supernatural, von Hassell
presents us with the trial of an accused witch, which, in 1644, reflects the
thousands of death during that time as a result of the witch hysteria in Europe,
especially Scotland, and the American colony of Massachusetts. The story also reflects
the supernatural in the connection between Peter and Lioba made through the
amber crane—and what it ultimately means to both of their lives.
For those interested in learning more about the considerable
research that went into making The Amber
Crane an authentic piece of historical fiction, von Hassell has included a
section in the back that provides place names, key events, and an extensive
glossary. She also includes a section with the origins of the songs and poems
used throughout the book.
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