Written by Shinjini Ray
Wonder and whimsy are the first words that come to mind when describing a Maggie Stiefvater novel. Stiefvater brings magic to even the simplest moments of young adulthood in her fantasy works. Her recent endeavor switching genres to adult historical fiction, three years after the release of paranormal adventure Greywaren, may have startled some readers.
However, on June 10th, faithful readers filled the chair-lined loitering area between the shelves of a Barnes & Noble in Philadelphia. From every angle, audience members around me showed off their other Stiefvater books. Teens whispered about their favorite romances in the stories, and older readers discussed their own romances while introducing a partner they’d brought, or their work as teachers, young adult librarians, or even writers.
Maggie brings the same magnanimous humor to her stories in person as she does to her writing.
“Debunking luxury was my mission, my original thesis,” she told audience members.
The novel takes place in a West Virginian luxury hotel, at the cusp of World War II reaching the United States. The mythical hotel she writes about, the Avallon, is asked to accommodate Axis diplomats. But the Avallon staff doesn’t just turn down beds. They predict everything, including what the guest will want for dinner, but more importantly, what they’re craving afterwards, before the thought even comes to their mind to ask.
“Car keys, a shovel, and half a madeleine,” Stiefvater tells the audience, is her understanding of luxury.
She went on to explain the magic behind reading a person, to hear the words that they couldn’t quite say out loud. A desire to go for a drive to clear one’s head. To dig a hole to bury the tiny computer driving them up a wall. To have just a bite of something sweet without spiking their blood sugar.
In setting the scene, Stiefvater novels create dissonance between somewhere you’d be able to visit, and somewhere you can’t, she told listeners. Here, you’d be able to visit a luxury hotel in West Virginia, at least hypothetically. She described public gardens, private bathing halls, thoughtful service that seemed effortless — something one could long for. This is contrasted by the historical setting, which keeps this fantasy from ever being fulfilled. The resulting effect is hauntingly magical in a uniquely Stiefvater way.
Rest assured, there is no lack of wonder in Stiefvater’s debut adult novel. Wonder is, in fact, the name of the genre she’d argue all of her books fall under, if there was a shelf for that in every Barnes & Noble. This whimsy is cast over the backdrop of an upper-class-serving establishment in the U.S. in 1942. Wonder and luxury, paired with an interrogation of the morality of such luxury in times of war.
June Hudson Porter, general manager of the Avallon, learns to read these foreign guests in a similar way to Agent Tucker Rye Minnick, the F.B.I. agent tasked with overlooking the internees. Despite the friction between the nature of both their work and their principles, these two find community when forced to confront and evaluate their values as tensions rise.
Those looking for a timely discussion of class dynamics during war will surely be satisfied with The Listeners. Devotees to Stiefvater’s genre will also have their hearts warmed with a familiar sense of wonder. Like a work of luxury itself, this writer has presented readers with exactly what they need—before they could think to ask for it.
