Endings that subvert reader expectations and Cary Fagan's Master Melville's Medicine Show

Juggling three items at once isnt such a bit deal, according to Sullivan Mintz, but four? Thats something.'The Boy in the Box: Master Melvilles Medicine Show is the most recent outing from best-selling middle grade author Cary Fagan, and like its juggling protagonist Sullivan, it finds itself with plenty of balls in the air.

The thing is that although watching someone juggle is a novelty to begin with, its really when things start to lose order and control that it truly becomes interesting. A perfectly thrown ball is one thing, but one that requires a lunge to catch? Thats another thing all together.

Sullivans story is for the most part one of perfectly thrown balls: its that of the bland, middling everyman who is yanked out of his everyday world and into a new environment where he can at long last shine. If this boy were a cereal hed be Weetbix with skim milk: satisfying enough, but hardly memorable. In fact, hes so unmemorable that when hes kidnapped by a travelling medicine show so that his juggling skillsthe only thing of note about himmight be exploited, only a handful of people even notice.

In fact, Sullivan and his story are so bland that theyre not really the focus of the book. The books focus, really, is how the other people in his life react to his disappearance. His only friend, Norval, for example, develops a strong friendship with repentant school bully Samuel Patinsky because of Sullivans disappearance; and without Sullivan to bully, Samuel finds himself reassessing his king-of-the-schoolyard ways. Sullivan, in a way, is almost an anti-character. Its not Sullivan, really, that moves the book along: its his absence.

Its a risky approach, and to be honest, it was until the last quarter of so of the book that I actually began to appreciate what Fagan was attempting to do here. In large part I think this was because I felt somehow that the writing had a sort of dead, toneless feel to it. No matter the neat plotting and tidily distinguished characters propping up the big top of the narrative, the book just felt flat to me, and I found that I was trying to convince myself to care.

Sullivan himself probably had a lot to do with this. The narrative voice quite strongly reflects Sullivans, and is therefore necessarily fairly restrained and uninspired itself. But in a book filled with evil travelling con-artists, performing dogs and carnie kids, its hard not to feel that somethings oddly amiss. I desperately wanted to shake some life into it, and would have tried had I not been afraid of trashing my Kindle.

But then, the end! The end is what redeemed this book for me, although I suspect its one that most readers will loathe. But we all know by now that Im a contrarian by nature, so Ill happily go and stand on the other side of the fence.

Theres a scene in the book where Mistress Melville, the cold co-owner of the titular Medicine Show tells Sullivan to up the ante of his act by moving from juggling clubs to tossing about flaming torches.

The audience always enjoys feeling a little terror on behalf of the performer, she says.

Yes, its brutally pragmatic, but honestly its'as true of a reader as it is a circus audience member. And its at the end of the book that Fagan does exactly what Mistress Melville suggests: he tosses aside the clubs, gets out the flaming torches, and subverts all of your expectations. The book begins to lose order and control, and the author doesnt even attempt to lunge to put things to rights. Its a non-ending in a way, but its also one that, like hurling flaming torches over your head, is supremely brave.

Rating: (not bad)