Victoria laughingly accepts agreeing to do anything he desires should he bring her the fallen star.
One night, 17 year-old Tristran Thorn, trying to impress the beautiful Victoria Forester, sees a falling star to the east and offers to bring it to her. The village is named for a large stone wall just to the east, a wall which forms the boundary to the realm of Fairy and is only crossed every nine years during a market when people from across the globe gather to trade miracles and magic with the fairy folk. Taking place in the mid-nineteenth century, the book’s setting is the mythical village of Wall somewhere in the south of England. Stardust is unselfconsciously and most distinctly a fairy tale. Sure enough this time around I was certainly not disappointed. So, now that my attitude is manifestly different and I’m celebrating my first wedding anniversary, rereading Stardust, and indeed introducing my lady to Stardust for the first time seemed a good idea. I could see the book’s good qualities from a purely technical standpoint, but it was only a cold, aesthetic appreciation, a sense of “pretty” rather than “beautiful” Undoubtedly, the reason for this was my generally grim and jaded attitude towards life in general and romance in particular. Back in 2008 when I first read the book, despite generally being a huge fan of Gaiman’s work I just felt there was something missing, something incomplete. However, there are undoubtedly times when imaginative empathy isn’t enough, and we cannot get the most out of a book because we’re just not in the right place to appreciate it. Of course, this is by no means the only reason why particular books might strike a chord, and the faculties of imagination and empathy can still play their part in letting us experience and understand a world and situation very different from our own, something which the sad corporate executives who assume all our interactions with literature can be reduced down to sets of demographics and statistics repeatedly fail to grasp. I am fairly sure that part of my strong attraction to the world of Harry Potter began with the fact that when I read it I too was coming out of some rather dire circumstances in life and moving on to a new world of good friends, possibilities and stuffy old professors amid castle walls in the far north of England (I even got to eat in a great hall and occasionally wear robes). We are all familiar with books which become beloved old friends because something in their tone, style, plot or characters so much resonates with where we happen to be in our lives when we read them.
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