Recently I was walking through the North Georgia Library and Technology Center to find a source for a paper I had to write. On my way out the stacks, arms laden with reputable sources, I passed by the leisure reading shelves. I glanced at them as usual, but then I did something I do not usually do: I picked up one of the novels from the shelf and instantly fell in love with the cover and the title of Erick Setiawan’s first and only novel: Of Bees and Mist.
We follow the story of Meridia, a young girl who grows up in a house where there are ghosts in the mirrors, staircases and change lengths, and three mysterious mists around the house. Meridia’s life is change quite radically when she falls in love with and then marries Daniel, moving in with his family.
But this new house has a mysterious, unmarked grave in the front yard, Daniel’s younger sisters who have been raised to loathe each other, and Eva, Daniel’s mother, and her army of pseudo-magical bees used to force others to do her bidding.
This is a tale of magic, but it is far more than that. It is, first and foremost, a tale of the human condition whose underlying currents are highlighted and exaggerated by Setiawan’s superb use of magical realism. I was—and am—quite shocked at how much I enjoyed this novel: I typically prefer tales where magic is treated in the same vein as science: exacting in its practice and explained in every detail. However, Setiawan’s magic seems to have no hard and fast rules governing it; instead, the magical aspects of Of Bees and Mist are absolutely perfect for what they need to do, when they need to do them.
I wholeheartedly recommend Of Bees and Mist to anyone interested in a magically realist novel with fairy-tale-like qualities. And I know that I will be reading Setiawan’s next novel with high hopes that it can live up to the promise of this one.