The Minuscule Mansion of Myra Malone

  ‘'Once upon a time there was a house.What kind of a house do you see when you close your eyes? How many rooms are in it, and what's inside them? If you could live there, where would you sleep, what colour would your guest towels be, and how would you take your tea? What music would echo against the walls? Is it coming from a fancy stereo, or an old Victrola?''
Every time I think of the word ‘house', our former flat comes to mind, the flat I stayed in until I was 8. It was rented, but it was home. It was pretty, it was cozy, its kitchen warm, the bedrooms lit by huge, sunny windows and a large tree to keep us company. Now, my house used to belong to my grandma and I always knew that it would become my home one day. Her aura and love fill the air. Still, the house of my childhood holds a very special place in my heart.
‘'Once for love, twice for life, thrice to keep you safe from strife, four the elements that bind us, five for all that intertwines us.''
Everything is connected in this beautiful story. Told in three separate timelines and in Myra's blog posts that truly little musings, pieces of wisdom, we come to realise that a house can be both a shelter and a prison. Myra experienced an absolute nightmare at a very young age, and a minuscule mansion became her world. But the mansion is unlike any other, and for the love of God, never call it a ‘dollhouse'. In Myra's house, nothing remains permanent. It has a mind of its own. Lights turn on and off on their own, rooms appear and disappear at will, flames appear in the tiny fireplace and music from the miniature piano can be heard at night. And there is a chance that the house listens and reacts to its guardian's soul...
‘'Myra can do impossible things. Myra's an old soul. She's a got a soul that watched creation happen.''
One day, when I was 7, my mum brought home one of her friend's daughter to play with me. Said irritating creature spent 2 hours messing around with my dolls and my books. My books! And when she left, I threatened to move out if she (or any other unknown creature, girl or boy) ever set foot in our house again. I repeat, I was 7. The world is a difficult place for old souls. The world is vile and wants to drag us down to its horrible level. We may be ‘alone' but we are far from ‘lonely'. And, most definitely, we are NOT stupid! And that's one of God's greatest blessings. The rest can wave bye-bye. News flash! If you believe we don't like you, you are absolutely right. Close the door quietly on your way out. 
‘'I promise I'm very normal. Please don't come and verify that personally.''
I can't begin to tell you how much I loved Myra who fell victim to other people's thoughtless decisions and, yet, she is being lectured on to ‘live'. Well, she lives just fine, thank you very much. I loved Alex who had to deal with a man who deserved a slow and painful death. I adored Trixie who sacrificed everything for a weakling and a venomous brat. 
The writing is beyond beautiful. The narration, the dialogue, the haunting and whimsical tone, the fact that what may have seemed ‘spooky' becomes pure magic. Audrey Burges writes with warmth and sensitivity, but doesn't shy away from showing the deep ugliness of the human soul. This novel is poetic and touching and brilliant in its elegant simplicity. A simplicity of the finest kind like a Sunday lunch in the spring, a family softly talking, sitting on the porch on a midsummer's night. 
It is a story to be read while listening to Chopin and Debussy. A literary ‘You've Got Mail'. In fact, a certain passage reminded me of Kathleen's moving ‘Goodnight, dear void' monologue. We have a literary fiction Nora Ephron and I am so here for it!
A book of wonders. Literally.
‘'After all, a house can be anything. It can be a beautiful cottage covered with climbing roses, sheltering a young princess and three kindly fairies who are hiding her from a vengeful sorceress. A house can be made of gingerbread and candy, concealing a bloodthirsty witch just waiting for a chance to eat a tasty pair of plump children. A house can be haunted and surrounded by skeletal trees whose branches scrape against the windows, convincing you that any moment may be your last before you're dragged off to whatever realm comes after this one.''
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