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The Astronomer Who Met The North Wind by Kate Hall. Book Smugglers Publishing, 2014. Review copy from publisher. Short story.

The Plot: The Astronomer Who Met the North Wind, a short story, is part of the Fairytale Retellings series being published by Book Smugglers Publishing. As you've probably guessed from the title, it's a retelling of The Princess Who Met the North Wind.

An astronomer and his wife have a daughter, Minka. Minka's parents go on scientific expeditions; during one, when Minka is six, her mother gets ill and dies.

Afterwords, her father is very protective of her, including his insistence that Minka not become an astronomer.

When Minka turns twelve, her father gets her the types of gifts he thinks a girl would want and should want.

Needless to say, they are not the types of things one girl -- his girl -- his daughter, Minka -- wants.

Minka decides to prove him wrong, and gets some help from the North Wind.

The Good: All the good things! First, I adore the Book Smugglers so was eager to read one of the short stories they were publishing. Second, I adore fairytale retellings and reinventions. Third, I love short stories in part because it's so nice to be able to sit down and finish a story in one seating.

Of course, none of those things are what makes this particular short story a terrific story. What makes The Astronomer Who Met the North Wind fabulous is the writing. Here is Minka, following the disappointing birthday gifts: "Minka leaned on her windowsill and wiped her eyes.  Her stomach churned, bitter, and even when she heard her father call her name softly through the door, she let her angry silence answer for her."

The North Wind comes along, and both tempts and encourages Minka to leave her home, alone, at night, into the dark and the cold, in order to find a mystery comet before her father does.

Even for a short story that is a retelling, I don't want to spoil it. Let's just say, that the North Wind is not what he appears to be. And that Minka has to find her own strength and courage to move forward.

What I can say, without spoiling, is that I liked Minka's desire to be an astronomer and that it was shown to be complicated. Even before her mother's death, she's described as a girl who loves geometry and solving puzzles; a gift of a telescope from her father helps her in the days after her mother's death. Her father's not wanting her to be an astronomer is based, in part, in not believing a child really knows what she wants to do with her life, and also in that it's not appropriate for a young girl, but also, just as importantly, in not wanting to lose his daughter. That all these things are shown, so that the father is never portrayed as a villain, and are shown in so few words, is one reason why I love short stories.

Kate Hall knows how to use words, and more importantly, knows how to make them count.

One last word, one last confession: the North Wind was scary.







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© Elizabeth Burns of A Chair, A Fireplace & A Tea Cozy

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Poisoned Apples: Poems for You, My Pretty by Christine Heppermann. HarperCollins. 2014. Reviewed from electronic galley.

The Plot: Fairy tale retellings, in poetry and photographs.

The Good: Seriously, I just adore retellings. Whether it's looking into the historical origins of fairy tales, modernizing them, twisting them -- I just love what people can do with the familiar and the unknown, making them new and fresh.

Poisoned Apples approaches fairy tales with a particular question: what do they say about what it means to be a woman? What does it mean in today's world?

"The action's always there
Where are the fairy tales about gym class
or the doctor's office of the back of the bus
where bad things can also happen?"

Where bad things happen. There, right there, it shows that the darkness of the fairy tales is what will be examined.

So many good, tight poems, and each is independent, so it's hard to write about because how to select just one or two.

Some are cynical -- the "Prince Charming" who is charming to parents but says to the girlfriend
"Girl,
you look amazing. That sweater
makes your boobs look
way bigger."

Others are not. "
Retelling" says, "What the miller's daughter should have said
from the start
or at any point down the line is,
no."

And then offers a better solution:
"Once upon a time
there was a miller's daughter
who got a studio apartment
took classes during the day."

"Retelling" may be my favorite because it says, you can say no. You can put yourself first. And that means a happier ending for everyone.

Poisoned Apples is a short book but not a quick read. There is a lot here to discuss; a lot to think about it; a lot to question. And the questions are not just about fairy tales and the poems. It's about what it is to be a woman, what that means, what society and family and friends say it means.

I reviewed this from an electronic galley; and let me say, I want to get my hands on the final print version because I think it's going to be an even more intimate reading.

Other reviews: Sense and Sensibilities and Stories; Kirkus Reviews.

Amazon Affiliate. If you click from here to Amazon and buy something, I receive a percentage of the purchase price.

© Elizabeth Burns of A Chair, A Fireplace & A Tea Cozy

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Some weeks life is busy, and there just isn't time to read and write lots, and so the blogging is slow.  And it's been even slower for me because most of the books I have managed to finish recently didn't move me to write about them, mostly because of me not having the mental energy to figure out and express eloquently why they hadn't worked for me.

So last night I turned to a book from a series (Scholastic's Branches) that promises to build "reading confidence and stamina," both of which I feel I need right about now.

Moldylocks and the Three Beards, written and illustrated by Noah Z. Jones (Scholastic, published in paperback in Jan 2014, and in a hardcover library edition April 29) is the first book in a series--"Princess Pink and the Land of Fake-Believe."   My eyes rolled when I read the words "Princess Pink," but not so much so that I was unable to look at the cover more closely.  And lo, Princess Pink seemed pretty cool. 

So I tried it last night, and rather enjoyed it, and can happily recommend it.  If you are a young reader who enjoys the absurd. and who is looking for something fun and easy, this is what you get here.

Princess Pink is not a princess; after seven boys, her mother wanted a one, and so that's what she was named.  She hates pink.  She turned her pink fairy dress into a cowboy caveman outfit.   (Perhaps her hatred of pink, and her taste in dirty sneakers and bugs is a tad polarizing--does the cheesy pizza she enjoys really have to look so gross?  And one can enjoy the outdoors without one's shoes stinking.  But this is not a book that aims for subtly, so I shall let it pass).

And in any event, Princess Pink opens her fridge one night, and falls (literally) into a the Land of Fake-Believe, where she visits the home of three beards (not nice) in the company of a girl named Moldylocks.   The whole beard premise was rather effective, and I enjoyed it.

Recommended for those who don't mind negative portrayals of pink princess stuff.  

Not particularly recommended for those who don't like whimsical stories whose primary point is to make learning to read entertaining.  Also not recommended for those who loath spiders.  There are too many spiders for those readers to take.

Not really recommended to their adults for their own reading pleasure, although it was kind of exactly right for my tired brain last night...........and I might well find myself picking up Little Red Quaking Hood when it comes out in August.

Note:  Princess Pink's family looks to be African-American--pretty darn rare in easy-reader fantasy books!  (quick--name another girl character of color in an easy reader fantasy book.............those dots are me not being able to).

Disclaimer:  review copy received from the publisher

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Once upon a time, First Second Books, creators of lovely graphic novels for kids, published a book called Nursery Rhyme Comics, and it was good.  Now they have  filled a felt need with a second book in the same vein--Fairy Tale Comics (coming Sept. 24), and it, too, is a book well worth adding to your child's library (after enjoying it yourself).

17 stellar cartoonists were gathered together to present, in graphic form, 17 fairy tales in kid-friendly fashion.  The majority are well-known stories (Red Riding Hood, Snow White), but several are from outside the European tradition (like The Boy Who Drew Cats, which you can preview here, and The Prince and the Tortoise).  There's a nicely balanced mix of girl and boy and animal heroes.  Some stick right to the traditional versions, others put little twists in (a female woodcutter, a boy who realizes he has no qualifications for king-ship, and refuses the crown, sparking a democratic revolution).   In short, there's lots of fun.

Graphic novels for kids are excellent offerings for any reluctant readers you might have on hand.  Some of the stories here have slightly denser text than others, but there's nothing here that's unsuitable for a young reader of 7 or 8, and many are great for emergent readers; that being said, even 13 year old boys will read it repeatedly (from personal observation) and grown-ups will enjoy it too.

This one is not just great for the reader, but also one for the budding graphic artist.  When you have 17 different artists all gathered together, it's a fantastic way for a kid to see and learn different approaches to telling a story visually and rendering reality in comic form.

And I really do think this particular collection of fairy tales serves a felt need.   Raising my boys, I've worried a bit about their fairy tale literacy--I've read stories out-loud to them, sure, but they've never voluntarily curled up with the Brothers Grimm, and so many of the fairy tale picture books are girl-oriented, and they weren't that interested.   However, when something is presented in comic book form, its boy appeal soars....and voila, they become familiar with the stories.   I hope there are more books to come!


It's my pleasure to be part of the Blog Tour for Fairy Tale Comics, and to have interviewed one of the contributors--Bobby London, whose story "Sweet Porridge!" kicks off the book.

Charlotte: So it's my understanding that Chris Duffy, the editor, read lots of fairy tales, picked the ones he thought would make a nice book with Calista Brill, the senior editor at First Second, and then found "cartoonists who would be a good match for particular stories"  (from this interview at the Westfield Comics Blog).

Bobby: More often than not, he'll just rely on his poker buddies. 

Charlotte: Were you surprised to be asked to illustrate this story?  Did you get a specific version of the story that specified "porridge," or did you get a chance to browse through versions with different food-stuffs (such as pasta)?   Had you in fact had any previous experience drawing porridge, or other gelatinous substances, that might explain why you were picked for this one?

Bobby: I was surprised to be asked to draw the lead story,  I'm usually found at the back of the bus,  when I'm not busy being thrown under it. As for sampling grits, rice krispies or any other forms of breakfast cereal for the story, no, I did not; I don't think the Grimm Brothers would appreciate me changing the title of their story to "Sweet Pasta"; we're talking about the Grimm Bros. here, not Carlo Collodi.

It's true  I had to be adept at drawing any number of funky substances to keep my spot in National Lampoon, but for Fairy Tale Comics I had to work very closely with Mark Martin, the talented cartoonist who translated my color layouts to Photoshop, to get precisely the right color of  porridge yellow. Too much green or brown and I would have proven I taught the guys at Ren & Stimpy everything they know. And, no, it wasn't type casting; I prefer to think was chosen for this project because of my literary heritage, i.e. my familiarity with the works of Cervantes, Rabelais and Jonathan Swift.

Charlotte: I've been reading up on your past history as a cartoonist....how you have moved from comic strips for grown-ups to children's media, and now to graphic illustration for kids.   Did you enjoy creating your version of the story?

Bobby: My past history is rather poorly represented in the media and generally in the context of the lives of other artists. My Wikipedia page has been vandalised - er, that is, I mean, "edited' and "rewritten" - over 2 dozen times by total strangers, fans of other cartoonists and people  to whom I owe large sums of money. For instance, nobody knows that I didn't start out as an adult, have been drawing cartoons well since age 4 and submitting to Highlights For Children at 12. Of course, I was attempting to illustrate the Kama Sutra as soon as puberty set in but I couldn't have made the segue to kids comics without having a successful career  illustrating for mainstream newspapers and magazines and I brought those characters with me to Nickelodeon Magazine via my comic strip, Cody. It's a very liberating experience drawing comics for kids.

Charlotte: When you were working on Sweet Porridge, did thoughts of the youthful age of the possible audience affect choices you were making, or did you let things just happen?

Bobby: No, I don't have to think about it. My girlfriend will attest to my true age level being about 6. When writing for adults, I often used to get tired of having to shock myself so this is a holiday. And, you know,  I get my nasty grownup ya-yas out drawing Dirty Duck so I don't feel compelled to sneak naughty messages into kid stuff, like some perverted creeps I know.

Charlotte: What will be next?   Do you think you'll do more graphic illustration for kids, maybe even your own graphic novel?

Bobby: I'm working on an autobiography but it's not a graphic novel, I couldn't bear drawing *some* people I've had to work with over the years ( I'm a cartoonist, not a Witch Doctor). Yes,  I'd love to write and illustrate a storybook or two if they'd still have me, and Chris Duffy has been nagging me to do a Cody graphic novel. Animation offers have come in, too. Believe me, it's a dream come true to still be in demand at age 63  but  I think I'll have to hire an assistant. If that means I'm a sellout, so be it, I also get the Senior Discount at Chili's.

Charlotte:  Thanks Bobby!  And good luck with the autobiography.

And thanks also to First Second for the review copy of Fairy Tale Comics.

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Frogged, by Vivian Vande Velde (HMH Books for Young Readers, April, 2013), puts a fun spin on the old fairy tale of the princess who kisses the frog prince.   In this case, when young Princess Imogene kisses an enchanted frog one day at his request (without getting too freaked out about it--she is a sensible type, unsquemish viz amphibians), he does indeed transform back into a boy as expected.  But as she kisses him, Imogene transforms into a frog!  To her horror, she learns that the only way out of the enchantment is to pass the kiss, and concomitant frog-ness, on to another victim!

The ex-frog boy won't help her, the witch who enchanted him in the first place won't help her...and before Imogene can hop home to find her parents, she's kidnapped by a rag-tag bunch of travelling players.  A talking frog adds zest to any performance...but every day finds her farther from home, trapped in a bucket and eating flies, when she's not reluctantly entertaining the masses.

This being a fairy tale re-imagining for the younger reader, Imogene does end up restored to her former self.   But rather disappointingly, it's not through her own agency or cleverness, but rather because another character decides to help her.  And so, though the premise of the story is fun, and Imogene's adventures as a frog are entertaining, it felt a tad flat in the end.  I kept waiting for Imogene to hatch a Cunning Plan, or something...and it never happened--though that being said, she does come up with the cunning a ha! moment that sets her free without be-frogging anyone else! 

Oh well.   Imogene's likeable, the frog spell and its implications are fun, and in short, it's a perfectly nice one to give a fairy-tale loving eight- or nine-year-old.

Here's a very small detail (one sentence worth) I liked--Imogene is a fairly typical un-princessly princess--she likes to run around and not worry about getting grubby.  However, she also enjoys embroidery, and it's nice to see sewing not as just one of the unpleasant things of princess girl life but as something worthwhile.

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Yesterday's book (The Menagerie) was one I happily recommended to nine-year olds wanting fantasy fun; today book I can also recommend whole-heartedly, but it is very different...one I think that has as much cross-over appeal to adult readers as it does to the YA readers to whom it is marketed.

Fearless, by Cornelia Funke (Little, Brown, April 2, 2013, YA), is the sequel to Reckless (my review), which told how Jacob, a boy from our world who became a treasure-hunter in a mirrorworld where fairy tales are true, sacrificed himself to save his younger brother.   And now Jacob, waiting for the fairy curse to strike that will end his life, is on the greatest treasure hunt of his life, this time looking for the last thing he hopes can save him.  It is a weapon crafted by an evil witch king long ago, full of powerful (and potentially horrible) magic...and Jacob isn't the only one hunting for it.   Pitted against him every step of the way is another treasure hunter, one of the stone-skinned Goyl, and their race across an alternate Europe of magic come true might well kill them both.

Fortunately, and heart-rendingly, for Jacob, he is not alone--Fox, the shapeshifting girl who almost broke my heart in the first book, is with him, and here in this book they both have come to understand that their love for each other is the bedrock of their lives.  But Jacob is dying...and so desperate fear tempers their relationship.  They have saved each other countless times before, but now they are stretched so painfully thin by this most horrible quest that hope would seem impossible, if the alternative was not so unthinkable. 

Note:  The relationship between Jacob and Fox is so real, so immediate, so beautiful, and so rooted in their complex pasts that I can't think of any other romance that comes close (except that of Eugenides and Irene, in Megan Whalen Turner's books).  But it is not a physical romance (understandable, given the circumstances) so those looking for swoonish kisses should look elsewhere.

Unfortunately for Jacob's opponent, the Goyl Nerron, not all travelling companions are a good thing.  Nerron is saddled with a nasty teenaged prince, along with his ass of a tutor, and a bodyguard--an inhuman Waterman, with motivations of his own, and their internal power struggles add a somewhat grimly diverting second layer of conflict to the story.  Despite the handicaps who travel with him, Nerron pushes Jacob and Fox at every turn....but fascinatingly, though he seems at first to be the ostensible "bad guy" opponent of the piece, and though up to the last minute the suspense is killer, he is still nuanced, and even sympathetic....

So what we have, to summarize, is killer characters in a killer story.  Added to that are episodes of fairy tale-ness that made bright vivid pictures in my mind--for instance, the book includes one of the most memorable Bluebeard retellings ever.

That being said, this isn't a fast read of magical zipping-ness.   The pages turned slowly, not because I wasn't interested, but because I was so absorbed, even when I wasn't in places where I wanted to be.   Those place weren't the dark scary exciting bits, of which there were many, and which I did enjoy, but rather those times when the burning ache of Fox's and Jacob's desperation surfaces.  Though they must be fearless, they can't help but fear.

So no, not happy escapist fun.  Not a book that kids would necessarily appreciate, though many teens might.   I mysef found it a darn good book (mainly because I love Fox so very much!).  I think it has stuck in my mind so firmly that, although I can imagine re-reading it, I won't need to for a long while.

Here's another review, at In Bed With Books

disclaimer: ARC received from the publisher for review

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Unlocking the Spell, by E.D. Baker (Bloomsbury, October 2012, ages 8-11), is the sequel to The Wide-Awake Princess, in which the titular princess, Annie, is the only one who doesn't fall asleep when her big sister falls under the magic curse ala Sleeping Beauty.   It's up to Annie, the only person in all the kingdoms who magic has no effect on, to find a prince to come kiss her sister...which she does, with all sorts of fairy-tale mash-up adventures along the way.

However, the prince that Annie comes up with has one little issue--he's a bear.  A prince enchanted into bear form, true, but still a bear.

So Annie, her sister, the bear, and Liam (Annie's friend from her first adventure) set out to find the dwarf who worked this malicious magic.  And what follows is a pretty entertaining, though somewhat dizzying, whirl of a journey through fairy tale snippet after snippet--from Puss in Boots to the Three Little Pigs, to the Bremen Town musicians to Snow White and many, many, more....and in all these encounters, Annie's gift (?) of magic-suppression plays a part.

So basically it's a show-case of fractured-fairy tale set pieces, amusingly woven into a pretty coherent whole, but it's somewhat light on the character development (although Annie does wonder about the relationship between Liam and herself....).  Annie's spoiled and ultra-beautiful sister, for instance, never becomes much more interesting or agreeable than she was at the beginning, despite all the shared adventures and dangers.   So for younger readers who want fairy tale fun, it's great; for older readers, it might not have quite enough depth.

disclaimer:  this one was received from the publisher ages ago, and has been languishing in my home far too long... Read the rest of this post

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Curse of the Thirteenth Fey: the True Tale of Sleeping Beauty, by Jane Yolen (Philomel, middle grade, Nov. 2012), has a somewhat misleading title.  It is actually the tale of the family of fairies who came to the christining, and how the princess ended up falling into her enchanted sleep.  And more particularly, it's the tale of the youngest daughter of this family, young Gorse. 

Gorse was left home sick when the rest of her family--aunts, siblings, and parents (no uncles--they were humans and didn't stick around long, but Gorse's father is an elf, and stayed), troop off to the castle to fulfil their part in a bargain made with the human king long ago.  The fairies swore an oath to do the bidding of the royal family, and bestowing Christening magic on the baby princess is part of the bargain. 

But Gorse--thoughtful, brave, impetuous, and somewhat sickly--is horrified when she realizes she's been left home alone.  Will she (and perhaps all her family) explode into light if the family oath isn't fulfilled because she isn't there?  So off she goes by herself to the castle....only to fall into an underground maze.  There a prince of the Unseely fairy court (Orybon),  along with his sworn companion (Grey),  and a clan of cave trolls (called "the McGargles" by the two fairy dudes) are were trapped underground by an imprisoning spell cast long ago (the trolls were innocent, unlucky, bystanders).  Orybon could be free any time--all he has to do is truly repent the wickedness that he's being punished for, and then Grey and the McGargles would be free too.  But repentance isn't actually on Orybon's agenda--he'd rather coerce Gorse into using her family's gift of magical shouting to batter a way through the locked gate to the upper world....

Not surprisingly, Gorse manages to save those who deserve saving, and makes it to the Christening, in time to see her mother cunningly work magic that will free her own family from their bondage to the human royals.  

Surprisingly, Grey, once restored to the upper world, reverts to the age he was when he was first imprisoned--now he's a boy again, just a bit older than Gorse.  And so, with this rather squicky implication that love will blossom despite the age weirdness, we leave them to their magic...

A few quick pluses--An imaginative look at a part of the Sleeping Beauty story that I've never seen looked at before.  Plucky, intelligent, well-read heroine.  Really cool magical book delivery system in which Gorse's father can reach into a magical book delivery slot and pull out random books, allowing Gorse to quote Through the Looking Glass. 

My less plus-like thoughts:  I just never do truly fall for Jane Yolen's books--they just never seem to me to fully deliver numinous enchantment, characters I can take to my heart, and truly gripping stories (and I do recognize that this is my issue--plenty of readers seem to love her just fine).  In this case I was put off by how long it took for the story to actually start--there are seventy six pages of backstory in which Gorse is born, grows older, hears family stories, and tells things to the reader.  Then she falls into the pit, and the pace picks up, albeit in a somewhat choppy fashion.

However, though the story now becomes genuinely interesting reading, the pit has its own problems.   Although the relationship between Orybon and Grey was fraught with all sorts of dynamics (which is the sort of thing I appreciate), I can't really call it a masterpiece of subtle character building.  And I know that I might be over-reacting, but I really didn't care for the patronizing, almost neo-Imperialist way the cave trolls are presented, both with the ridiculous name and the whole sense that I got of them as an exploited indigenous people, in an --isn't it nice that they can care about their families even though they are less than human-- way.

And finally, I was squicked out by Grey suddenly getting younger and loosing memories of what happened underground (which basically erases all of the character development that had happened in his life) and becoming a potential love interest for a girl who started things young enough to be his daughter.

I didn't mind reading it once, but I won't be reading it again.

Other reviews:

The Book Brownie
Kirkus
and the Upper Hudson Library system has gathered the School Library Journal, Publisher's Weekly, and Booklist reviews here

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What if Snow White wasn't a princess, but just a girl, named Snow in Summer, loved by her papa and mama and growing up good and beautiful in the mountains of West Virginia in the mid-20th century?  And what if her mama died, and her papa was so grief stricken he couldn't spare a thought for his little girl anymore...but was ensnared by the magic of a wicked woman, who became the poor child's evil stepmother?

Snow in Summer, by Jane Yolen (Philomel, 2011) is that story, and these twists of time and place and character make for a fascinating retelling.   It's a dark one, starting off right away in sadness with the death of Summer's mother, and working its way slowly and inexorably into horror, as Summer's evil stepmother cuts the girl off from the rest of the community, punishes her horribly, and finally, plans to kill her.  For the stepmother's magic is dark indeed, and it's a greedy, hungry magic that feeds on young life....

Summer herself is aware that things are horribly wrong, but can't seem to find any way out of the maze of cruelty that's been woven around her.  It's not until she runs for her life that she finds a refugee--in the home of a family of small German immigrant brothers-- and that isn't until page 195.  

It wasn't one I loved.  I found Summer a somewhat distant, unemotional narrator, and I never connected quite enough with her to care all that much.  On top of that,  I couldn't help but feel that the last bit of the book was rushed (we don't get enough time to really get to know the Seven Dwarf equivalents), and the romance at the end (not even a romance) was unsatisfactorily tacked on.   But I did appreciate the freshness of  Jane Yolen's reworking, and can recommend it to fans of fairy tales on that basis--it made a lovely change from the faux medieval that's so ubiquitous in retellings (though I think I'll always love those medievally ones best!).

Those looking for fairy tale retellings with pretty dresses should look elsewhere (they will find the pretty cover has deceived them), but older middle-school kids (seventh graders or so) who are almost ready to move on to darkish, more Young Adult books may well enjoy it.  

Note on age:  The lust (verging on attempted rape) of the teenaged boy who has been charged with killing Summer pushes this, in my mind, out of the range of younger readers.

A sample of other reviews:  Semicolon, Leaf's Reviews, and Book Aunt

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Fairy Tales From the Brothers Grimm: a New English Version, by Philip Pullman (Viking Adult, November 12, 2012).

This is the first time I've ever written in a happy spirit about a book I haven't finished, and I feel absolutely no shame at all about not having read to the end!  I'm in no rush to hurry up and read it cover to cover--instead, I'm enjoying revisiting all my old friends, reading my favorite stories out loud to my children, and relishing Pullman's fresh and friendly story-telling.

He is an author who isn't afraid to translate "pisspot" (Pißput) as "pisspot," one who isn't afraid to let the players in the stories speak with contractions (though he plays it fairly straight--he doesn't use a specifically local speech, or the repetitive formulae of oral storytelling, as Alan Garner, for instance, does in his retellings).  And my children are enjoying the experience very much as well, much more so than the stiffer versions in my own childhood Grimm.

I didn't have enough enough books as a child living overseas, so I was forced to re-read those (relatively) few books I had  and that included Grimm.  Though I would periodically force myself to read straight through, I had my favorites, of course--The Golden Bird, Jorinda and Joringel, The Goose Girl...stories I knew pretty much by heart. 

Reading Pullman's retellings was like coming home to find the walls of my house repainted--fresh and bright and like new again, with the added bonus of some new rooms that I'd never been in before.

 This isn't a book specifically for children--there are no illustrations, no sanitization--though many children will enjoy reading it; instead there is lots of fascinating commentary on the stories.  This isn't one to put on the kids' bookshelf, in their room upstairs, but it's one that I'd shelve happily in the living room library, and not be at all ashamed of adult visitors seeing it there!

Giveaway:  To win your own copy of this one, leave a comment (with a way to get a hold of you if you don't have contact info. on your own blog) by next Wednesday, Nov. 14, at 11:59pm.  (US and Canada)

(disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher)

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Way back in 2005, Wendy Mass published the first in her Twice Upon a Time series--Rapunzel: the One With All the Hair. The second book, Sleeping Beauty: the One Who Took a Really Long Nap, followed in 2006. And then Mass left fairy tales for the next few years (though she didn't leave off magic). This year Mass returned to Twice Upon a Time, with Beauty and the Beast: the Only One Who Didn't Run Away (Scholastic, middle-grade, June 2012).

And, um, it didn't work for me.  Not in a horribly negative way--I have no hostile feelings at all toward it.   I didn't mind reading it, and was diverted--all the things I like about the story as it exists in my mind (the bookish little sister who cares about important things, the Beast with a backstory--likable, even lovable, under the fur, the castle with books) are there.  A younger reader might well enjoy it lots, what with its likable heroine, and its mix of humor and a serious, life-or-death, story.

But it felt a bit off to me.  For one thing, Beauty doesn't arrive at the castle until page 212 of 282 pages, so Beauty and the Beast getting to know each other is a lot less important than it often is, and since that is my favorite part of the story, it was a disappointment.   And what comes before The Meeting doesn't make up for it.  Before we get there, we have lots of kind of inconsequential stuff, along with two main sub stories (told in the alternative perspectives of Beauty and the Beast), to wit:

1.  A quest adventure that Beauty has on her own, the point of which doesn't become at all clear until quite close to the end of the book (and even when it's clear it doesn't seem like much point).  It was a really implausible sort of quest too, involving a girl who is kind of fairy-like wanting to find something her mother lost years ago, and it doesn't have much umph to it and it beats me why anyone thought that Beauty, just cause she didn't have much else better to do and was reasonably bright and spunky, and had travelled a little, would be the perfect travelling companion for this mysterious little girl.  But the baker's apprentice is going too, and pleasant, intelligent young bakers with no skills beyond baking are awfully useful on quests (?). 

2.  The story of how the Beast came to be a Beast, and how his invisible parents and older brother and him in Beast form all live together in the castle hoping for a girl to come marry him.  This part made more sense, although the logistical details of the invisible family (they were keeping their presence secret) bothered me, and the older brother was incredibly annoying and the parents not much better.

So those two stories get the reader to page 212, when the Meeting happens, and then Beauty, being really special, manages to fall in love with the Beast at an unrealistic speed (though they share a keen interest in alchemy, which is nice for them).  This disappointed me, because I like people to fall in love with slow, inexorable subtly.  And then the bad witch who cursed the beast gets what she deserves.

In both these substories, the tone felt unbalanced to me--there was considerable humor, of an almost teetering on farce type, but then the reader was asked to take the story seriously regardless.   Perhaps if the Beast hadn't been named Riley I would have liked it more, but Riley seems to me so 21st-century a name that from the moment I read it (page 6) I was distrustful, and it underscored the disjuncture I felt between the book's "relatable fun" and its moments of "serious historical fantasy." (The cover makes me similarly uneasy--that dress looks much more modern than I think it should, suggesting a contemporary romance).

In short, this re-telling didn't hang together in a cohesive way, but felt like piece-work, kind of randomly joined at the seams. Of course, for this fairy tale, Beauty, by Robin McKinley, set so very high a re-telling bar that nothing else really comes close for me....

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I have always appreciated the story of the two sisters who are rewarded/punished for their behavior with flower and jewels, or reptiles and amphibians, coming from their mouths when they speak.  It was a very unambiguous story--the good child is rewarded, the bad child punished.  End of story.  Clearly spraying those around you with flowers and jewels is better than drooling toads.

Or maybe not. 

Once Upon a Toad, by Heather Vogel Frederick is a retelling of this fairytale, set very much in the present day, but with a magic that makes no concession to modernity!  It's the story of two girls--stepsisters--who loathe each other.  One of whom, Cat, is blessed (?) with a fairy godmother, her Great Aunt Abyssinia, who leaps in to set things right (?).  Suddenly Cat finds herself speaking toads, and her mean girl stepsister, Olivia, speaks in diamonds and flowers (the species of flower changing depending on her mood, which I thought was a nice touch).

Of course, this being the 21st century, a secret branch of the government becomes keenly interested when Olivia's gift becomes public knowledge (Cat manages to maintain a charade of laryngitis).  And diamonds, being diamonds, attract the interest of would-be profiteers....When Cat and Olivia's mutual little brother is kidnapped by these bad guys, the two girls head off to find Great Aunt Abyssinia, desperate to get him back, and to have their "gifts" rescinded.

It's an entertaining retelling, nicely fractured and reassembled into a coherent adventure.   There are Issues dealt with--coming to terms with family relationships that are forced on you, learning to get along with, and even appreciate,  people very different from yourself --but though these issues are very clearly present, even underlined, they don't take over the story (much).   This is a fantasy that might well appeal to  middle school girls who would generally prefer realism, and who think they don't like magic.  And for those who do like magic, the contemporary setting makes a nice change.  Not necessarily a deep or powerfully moving change (it's not subtle or profound enough for that), but fun nonetheless.

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Circle of Cranes, by Annette LeBox (Dial, April, 2012, upper middle grade), is the story of an orphaned Chinese girl, 13 year old Suyin. Her father died, and her mother disappeared when she was little, and her paternal grandfather was so angry at this that he forbid any of the women in the village to teach Suyin any of the embroidery for which her mother was famous. So she has grown up passed from one family to another, and deprived of the heritage of her Miao ancestors--the women from this minority group define themselves in large part by their skill with the needle.

But Suyin is blessed with a preternatural skill for languages. And so, when a clearly untrustworthy human trafficker offers passage to America for one of the villagers--at a steep price--Suyin, who speaks English, is chosen to go. The expectation is that American dollars will flow back to the village, paying of the dept and bringing prosperity.

Suyin does not want to go. How can she leave her beloved cranes, the birds with whom she feels a strange kinship, birds that she has actually visited and spoken with in their own dream-like land? They had promised that someday she might be one of them--a crane woman, able to fly--but how can this dream come true in America?

The voyage is hellish--children packed for weeks in the hold of a derelict vessel. And instead of being the promised Golden Land, New York is a land of sweatshops and virtual slavery for the children, a place where brutal enforcers deal with any attempt to rebel, or escape. Suyin, who cannot sew, earns only a pittance in the garment making sweatshop, and her future seems bleak indeed.

But the cranes have not abandoned her. Indeed, they are pinning their own hopes on her. For the Queen of the Cranes was Suyin's mother, who disappeared years ago, and without her, there is no future for the clan. If Suyin can prove herself worthy (and if she can learn to sew, for the cranes, like the Miao women, pass down wisdom and beauty through their stitchery), there is hope.

Except that it is hard to be worthy when being ground down by the miseries of a life of brutal labor.

But cranes teach her embroidery, and messages written in the secret language of women, passed down through the generations, and hidden in plain sight in the stitches, brings comfort and wisdom. And finally Suyin finds the courage to speak up in public about the plight of the garment workers....and it all resolves to a happy ending.

Circle of Cranes is two stories. There is the realistic story, of the horrible working conditions faced by illegal immigrants--they work in fear of the government, in fear of their bosses, and with little hope. Prostitution is the only clear alternative for these young girls. Then there is the fantasy story, a reimagining of the story of the Crane Wife (the story of a woman torn between life as a bird and her human family is Japanese, not so much Chinese, but the author's endnote says has "roots in many Asian cultures"). Each is vivid and compelling in its own right, with the realistic elements being a grippingly eye-opening story, and the fantasy elements making a magical counterpoint.

It didn't, however, work perfectly for me. Though I was fascinated, especially by the details of the embroidery, the contrast between the two aspects of the book was great, so much so that I was not always convinced by the magical reality of it as a whole! I have to confess that a personal prejudice of my own came into play--I really get creeped out when a human person starts to sprout feathers (Suyin only has one feather, and it falls out quickly, but still). But that is just me. And the tidy resolution, in which the human identities of the crane women were revealed, seemed a bit much (all the important women in Suyin's life seem to be crane women...).

But in any event, this is one I'd give to the young (11 to 13 year old) lover of fairy tale retellings, for whom the magic of the cranes might well ring true, and whose heart might be deeply moved by Suyin's horrible experience in New York. It might especially appeal to those who want a lovely, magical daydream to lift them out of quotidian, possibly unpleasant, reality....

Final though: I think this is my favorite cover of the year so far. Isn't it beautiful?

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The Brixen Witch, by Stacy DeKeyser (Margaret K. McElderry Books, June 26, 2012, middle grade) is a fresh and fun re-telling of the story of the Pied Piper, told from the point of view of the one boy who was not ensnared by the spell of the music that lured the other village children into a mysterious cave.

Rudi, and all the other villagers of Brixen, have known all their lives that the mountain looming above them is home to a fearful witch of great power. But Rudi is one of the few who has a chance to learn of her power directly. When he brings home a golden coin he found in the high meadow, his grandmother warns him to return it to the witch immediately--or else he will feel her wrath. So the next day he tries to take it back, but it is lost in a rockslide.

All that winter Rudi is haunted by nightmares...and then spring bring brings trouble to the whole village. A plague of rats destroys the peace and prosperity of the village, and the price the mysterious stranger charges to solve the problem is one golden coin (undreamed of wealth to the villagers).

It's clear to Rudi and his grandmother that this stranger is in league with the witch, and that Rudi must find the lost coin. But the deadline passes before he, and the music of the stranger's violin lures all the village children up and away, into the mountain.

To save them, Rudi must confront the Brixen Witch...and he finds that witches are not always what they seem to be....

This is a satisfying re-telling, adding new twists to an old story to make a seemless whole. The magic of the witch is clearly present from the beginning, though the quotidian details of village life, and mundane attempts to kill rats (which I confess was one of my favorite parts of the book--I now know lots more about historic rat hunting, and found it interesting! plus bonus ferrets!), give a solid grounding to the story. The thought-provoking twist at the end, when Rudi meets the witch, lifts the story to the truly magical.

The straight-forward storytelling, and focus on Rudi, an ordinary boy forced to step outside the safe world of childhood, makes this an excellent choice for younger "middle grade" kids, of nine or ten. It's not one for the reader who wants wild and whacky magic with Slayings and Spells and a kid who has great powers (that kid might find this one slow), but more for the kid who likes fantasy stories that one could imagine really happening.

If I were a fourth or fifth grade teacher, doing a unit on fairy tale retellings, this is one I'd most definitely be offering those kids (boys or girls) who aren't drawn to pretty dresses (and who like ferrets, though they don't actually get that much page time)! And I'd be pretty stuck to think of any others--perhaps The Book of Wonders, by Jasmine Richards, and the Sisters Grimm series. (Can you think of any other boy-friendly fairy tale retellings?)

So all in all, a nice read for me as a grown up, and one that I think fills in fine style a pretty empty niche for the target audience.

disclaimer: review copy gratefully received from the author.

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Cinder, by Marissa Meyer (Feiwel & Friends, January 2012) counts both for my multicultural sci fi/fantasy list, and my fairy tale retelling list, so even though it might well have reached review saturation point by now, here it is.

In a far future earth, there is peace between the small number of terrestrial goverements that share the globe. On the bad side, there's a horrible sickness sweeping the land, and the dictator of the Lunar people (the moon was colonized generations ago) has formulated evil schemes that will take her down to earth in a bid to extend her power in a terrible fashion.

That's the big picture.

The smaller picture is that of a teenaged girl, named Cinder, who lives with her de facto step mother (not nice) and two step-stepsisters (one nice, one not), and who is the wage earner of this family. She's a repairer of futuristic mechanical things, a crafter and tinkerer. She's also a cyborg, with a robotic leg and hand being the most obvious non-human components of her make up. Unfortunately for Cinder, cyborgs are despised out caste people in her society (the reasons why this is so never became clear to me, but regardless, there it is).

So when Cinder meets the Prince of the neo-China where she lives (he needs a special robot surreptitiously repaired), she doesn't want him to know what she truly is...and it turns out that she doesn't know who she truly is either (although it's easy for the reader to guess), and suddenly her life is in danger, the Lunar dictator has arrived and wants to marry the prince, and he (charmed by her, despite the fact that he never seems to see her at her best, and the fact that they never get to actually Talk much) wants her to go to a rather special ball with him.

This being the first book of the series, it ends with people still dying of the sickness, Cinder still in danger, and the Evil Plot still un-foiled. But I'll be happy to have more of the story to read! I especially loved the fact that Cinder is a girl who defies gender stereotypes--her personal fixation during the book is the repair of a very antique car....she'd never actually wear the sort of shoe shown on the cover. So in short, Cinder was Fun, in a really enjoyable reading sense--good for light vacationing, when one can keep turning the pages, absorbed in the story despite never quite believing all of it!

viz multicultural sci fi/fantasy--Cinder herself is not from this neo-China (she was a foundling in Europe), but the prince most certainly is, and that's the setting. This neo-China-ness is not made much of, but its an integral part of the world-making. It's also a pleasant change to read a sci-fi fairy tale retelling!

Note on age of reader--this is one of those books that can be read comfortably either at the upper end of middle grade (which is to say that there's no sex, and the relationship between Cinder and the prince isn't the be all and end all point) and on into YA.

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I'm a bit late to the party viz Enchanted, by Aletha Kontis. It's been out for a while, and has been reviewed lots. However, the thing with having Lists, as I do, is that there they are, needing to be added to, and Enchanted is a must-have on my Fairy Tale retelling list (and some day I'll review Grave Mercy for my Historical Fantasy list, and Silver Phoenix for my multicultural list....)

So.

There is Sunday, a girl whose family is just riddled with magic. She is the seventh daughter of Jack and Seven Woodcutter, coming last after Monday et al. Each sister, in accordance with the rhyme, is the embodiment of the qualities for the child born on that day (Monday's child is full of grace, Tuesday's child is fair of face, Wednesday's child, which is me, and I resent it, is full of woe, etc.). Sunday gets to be bonny and giving, blithe and gay...which seems to guarantee a pretty happy life.

Except that Sunday has grown up in the shadow of her sisters' magic, not mention the exploits of her brother, Jack--pretty much the Jack of all the Jack stories--and he ended up mysteriously dying (or so they think), and Sunday's mother is cold and un-nurturing, and Tuesday got shoes that danced her to death, and so it's not exactly all sunshine and flowers in Sunday's family.

So Sunday goes off by herself, to write stories in the woods. And she meets an enchanted frog, and they become dear friends...and then he's a prince, and there are balls, and Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty are referenced...

But the former frog, now Prince, has secrets he isn't telling Sunday (like the fact that he was her frog friend), and in fact he has secrets he can't remember himself (cause of enchantments) and MAGIC and FAIRYTALES just burst out all over the place, like the beans planted outside the Woodcutter family cottage.

Will the ex-frog Prince and Sunday find a happily ever after? Will Sunday's sisters have satisfactory fates (too late for poor Tuesday)? Just what is the family secret that is at the root of all this magic? And how many fairy tale elements does one book really need?

Well, in this case, as long as the reader is prepared to go with the flow, the exuberance of fairy tales works just fine. I confess I was bewildered at times, as were the main characters, but it was fun. (On a personal note, "full of woe" turns out to be an interesting fate, which pleased me).

Sunday was a fine character, perhaps because we get to meet her before all the goings on really get going. The ex-frog Prince never gets to be quite a real character, in large part because he's lost a chunk of his memory, and he himself doesn't seem all that certain about who he is (and did he really spend time on Thursday's pirate ship? That little vignette seemed to come out of no-where, and may well have been a dream). There were moments of unexpected depth, particular with regard to Sunday's mother, and the nature of family relationships, that helped balance the whirl of enchantments, making this more than a light divertissement of a read.

So all in all, I enjoyed it, and recommend it to anyone 12 and up wanting a magic-filled entertainment with lovely dress-making scenes (always an added bonus!)

(If you found my summary confusing, and I feel that it might be, but like I said, I wasn't entirely certain at the time just what was happening, and retrospect hasn't lent clarity to the view all that noticeably, feel free to go read

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Just sneaking in one quick review before I plunge into the 48 hour reading challenge...

I am an avid reader both of Katherine Langrish's books (such as The Shadow Hunt), and her blog, Seven Miles of Steel Thistles (which is a rich feast for fairy tale lovers). So when I saw that she had a new book out in 2011--Forsaken--, which is a retelling of Matthew Arnold's poem, The Forsaken Merman (which is sad and lovely) I added it to my mental tbr list...and on impulse, I ordered if from the Book Depository last month (cause it's not out in the US). And it came, and I read it, and found it good. But I am not the intended audience, and so this one isn't one I can evaluate on the basis of whether or not it worked for me.

Forsaken is part of the Rivets series, from publisher Franklin Watts. These are books that are "Perfect for readers who want to enjoy a book by a bestselling author, but who lack the stamina for a full-length novel," with a reading age of 8-9 years, and an interest range of 8-14 years. What we would call in the US "high-low." It's a really, really hard category of book for me to review--I'm not lacking in reading stamina myself, and I'm not an educator of struggling readers. So as an individual, such books will never be best beloved to me (because of being too short!), and I have to make a slight effort to judge them on whether or not they succeed in telling a compelling story in a condensed, clear, manner.

On to the book.

Forsaken tells of the daughter of the Mer King and the human woman who gave up the land to live with him beneath the sea. This woman is unique among the merfolk, not just because she has legs, but because she has an immortal soul. Though she loves her husband and children, one day the call of the church becomes to strong for her to bear, and she returns to land. It was to be just a holiday...but she doesn't return.

And her baby is crying and starving, and her ten-year old daughter, Mara, cannot stand it. So she goes in search of her mother, up the noxious river, onto dry land, and into the church itself. It is a painful journey

"Hand over hand I pulled myself uphill, digging my elbows into the sharp white gravel. My fingers bled and my eyes filled with stinging grey dust. My delicate tail fins became tattered and curled" (page 27).

And so Mara's mother is faced with a choice--does she jeopardize her soul, and return to the sea, or deny her family, and stay on land?

It is a tightly told little story with a big emontional punch. Mara is a forthright narrator, and her pain comes through clearly. The conflict facing Mara's mother is likewise addressed directly. It's rare to see a character in a fantasy book for younger readers confronting a fundamental religious dilemma, and those who believe in a loving God will appreciate her final choice.

So there's the story, and the question is--does this succeed in being one that will hold the interest of a reader up to fourteen years old? I think, for the most part, that it would--it's thought-provoking and compelling, and it's easy to empathize with Mara's painful journey onto dry land. My one reservation is that Mara is only ten years old, which I think would off-put readers older than that. However, I'd give this one in

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So there I was browsing in my local used book store with about forty dollars of trade-in credit to spend, and I saw on the shelf a signed first edition copy of Haunted Waters, by Mary Pope Osborne (Candlewick, 1994, YA, 153 pages), a retelling of the story of Undine. My eyes lit up, and I pounced on it....because I WAS CONFUSED. I though this was a rare book by Elizabeth Marie Pope (author of The Perilous Gard), and I was ever so so happy...

Still not knowing what I had done, I began reading. Right at the beginning, in a short prologue, we are told that the sea king has delivered his niece to a human family, to liven up the merfolk gene pool. So when a medieval knight, lost in a demonic wood, meets an improbable fisherfolk family--kind old man, insane old woman, and beautiful but mysterious girl who swims really well--we can guess who this girl is! Especially since her name is Undine.

A storm of supernatural strength kicks up, forcing the knight to stay with the fisher family. For no good reason (other than animal attraction) he falls for Undine (since she is virtually monosyllabic it can't be for her wits, although in fairness, since she's apparently never seen another person in her whole life (evil demonic spirits don't count) she hasn't had much chance to develop that part of her personality). The Undine falls for him too (for even less clear a reason--she was getting tired of swimming all day, I guess, and having demonic spirits looking through the windows), and a handy priest washes ashore who marries them.

The knight, however, hasn't thought things through all that well viz the demons that lurk around the girl and her general mysteriousness, and she hasn't thought things out either (although how would she know that not everyone likes swimming as much as she does? But still I would have liked her to be a tad more aggressive in trying to find out answers, instead of being all mysterious and inarticulate) and things don't go well.

And as I read all this, I kept waiting for the fine writing of Elizabeth Marie Pope--for the characters to leap of the page and become people I cared about, and it didn't come. Instead I got what felt like overly careful writing, and overly conscious story-telling, all from the point of view of Lord Huldbrand, who never became a particularly sympathetic character. Here's a random example of the prose style:

"Lonely music wafted from a shepherd's flute. I looked back at Undine. She clutched her shawl and stared at the barley field. Did the rippling silver-gold grain remind her of her ocean waves? Was she yearning for the sound of the fisherman's pipe? For a terrible moment, I regretted having stolen her from her old life.

Then the fisherman's words came back to me. He had begged me to take Undine far away from the inhuman force haunting their shore. Revived by the memory of his charge, I began leading my horse through the swelling fields." (page 56)

In a nutshell, it's a doomed relationship: Huldbrand needs to talk to Undine more than he does; she needs to try to answer him.

In a second nutshell, it's all very medieval fantasy Gothic, but without enough emotional heft behind the gothic-ness to make it work for me.

In a third nutshell, I wish it had been an Elizabeth Marie Pope book instead.