The Tale of Despereaux, by Kate DiCamillo, illustrated by Timothy Basil Ering, (Candlewick Press, 2003)

The Tale of Despereaux is the story of a mouse, a rat, a princess, a serving girl, a spool of thread, and some soup. Recounted by an unnamed observer, it’s a modern fairy tale that evokes an older style of storytelling, complete with backtracking plot explanations, and shared confidences with the reader. Add in the whimsical artwork accompanying it, and what you have is an all-new tale that would nevertheless fit right in with older collections.

The mouse is Despereaux, whose small body and big ears sets him apart physically from his family, just as much as his inquisitive nature and keen mind do. Right from the start, he’s more interested in listening to music, and reading books, than he is eating cheese and scurrying. However, his yearnings put him at odds with his people, and soon he’s sentenced to death, thrown into the dungeons of the castle they inhabit, doomed to be eaten by rats. The rat is Roscuro, so obsessed by the light of the outside world that he’s willing to leave his dungeons and brave the dangers of the unknown … until he learns what sort of a reception a rat gets. The princess is named Pea, a sweet, beautiful girl who trusts in the goodness of mice and men with all her heart. And the serving girl is Miggery Sow, sold by her father into slavery and ultimately freed to work in the castle. Her ambitions outmatch her potential, and her laziness outstrips her intelligence, qualities which will make her the perfect pawn. These four characters soon find their paths crossing and it’ll take the bravery of one small mouse to put things right.

This is a charming little story that’s already earned a lot of favorable press for good reason. It’s not often such a worthy addition to an already crowded stable of fairy tales comes along, and Despereaux is the sort of hero that you just can’t help but want to succeed against all the odds. I hope we’ll see more from this writer/artist team, and hopefully more of their mouse champion.

The Supernaturalist, by Eoin Colfer (Hyperion Miramax, 2004)

In the future, in a place called Satellite City, it’s a very bad time and place to be an unwanted orphan. Cosmo Hill finds this out the hard way, when he’s sent to live at the Clarissa Frayne Institute, an orphanage which defrays costs by using its residents as human guinea pigs, testing everything from drugs to antiperspirants, from food to music. With only three ways to escape the cycle of test-to-destruction (death, adoption, or escape), Cosmo focuses on the most likely of the three: escape. However, even after he’s made his break for freedom, he’s still not entirely in the clear. Critically injured in the attempt, he’s found and granted shelter by an odd group of rebels known as the Supernaturalists. Like Cosmo, they can see the bizarre Parasites, supernatural predators feeding on the life energy of select individuals. And just like that, Cosmo is dragged into a war between the Supernaturalists and the Parasites, dodging highly-trained crack response teams of paralegals and other menaces along the way. But there’s more going on in Satellite City than anyone realized, and before it’s all over, Cosmo and friends will be forced to make some hard choices in order to save the world.

Described as part Blade Runner, part Charles Dickens, The Supernaturalist is a dystopian science fiction adventure with a flavor all its own. Coming from the creator of the Artemis Fowl books, its plots twists and imaginative scenarios help to create an unpredictable story in a memorable setting.

The Spoon in the Bathroom Wall, by Tony Johnston (Harcourt, 2005)

Martha (or as the bullies call her, Marthur) is a highly intelligent, good-hearted girl who lives with her father in the boiler room of a school where strange things happen on a daily basis. All she wants to do is become a teacher someday, but first she has to contend with dancing eggs, tiny dragons, annoying bullies, a bizarre principal, and a teacher who’s a magician. No problem, right? And then a spoon appears in the bathroom wall, stuck there as if by magic, with an inscription suggesting that whoever pulls the spoon from the wall is the rightful king of the school. The principal is bound and determined to make it his, but somewhere in the school, there’s a true rightful king. And they’ll need a little help if they want to claim their position.

This is a charming, highly whimsical postmodern fairy tale, much in the same vein as the Sideways Tales from Wayside School series. Strange things happen, but it’s all part and parcel of the location and setting. Martha is a resourceful protagonist whose kind heart is worth any number of magic swords. Both wry and amusing, The Spoon in the Bathroom Wall is bound to find an audience with younger readers and their parents. I certainly got a kick out of it.

The Spiderwick Chronicles: Notebook For Fantastical Observations, by Tony DiTerlizzi and Holly Black (Simon and Schuster, 2005)

Appearing as a supplement to Black and DiTerlizzi’s excellent Spiderwick Chronicles series, this lovely little hardbound notebook is a potpourri of imaginative explorations based on the material introduced in the books. Each “section” is prefaced with a mini-essay regarding some child’s first or second-hand experience with various mythological creatures, including goblins, dwarves, elves, and brownies. Then there’s room to paste photos of said creatures, or to draw your own renditions of them. Other pages have lists (everything from “Things I’ve Cut Up To See What’s Inside Them” to “Ideas I Have In Bed” to “Riddles To Outwit a Troll.”) There’s lots of room in here for drawing and sketching, or chronicling one’s experiences with the supernatural, or drawing maps where the things of Faerie might be found.

Obviously, there’s no real plot to this. But as a supplement to the series, it’s extremely well-done, with lots of ways for the owner to express themselves and stretch their own imagination. Add to this the delightfully whimsical artwork of Tony DiTerlizzi, and the solid construction, and you have the perfect addition to the Spiderwick Chronicles. It’ll look great next to the series on the bookshelf. I highly recommend it just because I find it charming and entertaining, and wholly in the spirit of the original series.

The Singer of All Songs, by Kate Constable (Arthur A. Levine Books, 2004)

Sheltered by her upbringing as an ice priestess in the remote land of Antaris, a place emphatically set apart from the rest of the world by the massive magically-maintained Wall, Calwyn is unprepared for the destiny that meets her head-on the day she rescues a wounded stranger who has somehow crossed over the Wall. Little does she realize at the time that she’ll be drawn into a desperate quest to prevent an ambitious sorcerer from gaining control over all nine aspects of the Great Power which can change the world. Her own ability to manipulate the Power of Ice will make her both pawn and player as she joins several other people, each with their own affinity for the Nine Songs, in a race against time. But will Calwyn’s resolve be enough to turn the tide at the crucial moment, or will the conniving Samis have the last word? She’ll need to trust her newfound friends like never before, if they want to prevent disaster. Even then, Calwyn may have to sacrifice everything she’s ever known, for the greater good.

The Singer of All Songs is a rousing, sweeping fantasy, the debut novel from Australian author Kate Constable. It’s an intelligent story with strong characters, rich atmosphere, and a well-planned magical system that resonates quite nicely with the world at hand. Calwyn’s journey of discovery through strange lands with unfamiliar customs and new people is our journey, a great way to explore the setting. From northern wastelands to rational cities to prehistoric jungles, there’s a little something for everyone, even pirates. This is a strong start, and I hope Constable keeps it up for the next book in the trilogy.

The Purple Emperor, by Herbie Brennan (Bloomsbury, 2004)

Henry Atherton has been different ever since his amazing set of adventures with Pyrgus, Prince of the Faeries of the Light, and Holly Blue, Pyrgus’ sister. Together, they foiled an evil plot, and prevented the armies of Hael from completely taking over the land of Faerie. Not bad for a kid from the mundane world, right? With his ex-bank robber friend Mr. Fogarty staying behind in that world to act as Gatekeeper – an important position involving plenty of between-worlds travel, Henry’s been feeling a bit lonely. Luckily, that all changes when Pyrgus, now the Emperor of Faerie since his father’s untimely assassination, calls upon Henry to come attend his coronation. Excited at the prospect of spending more time in Faerie (and with Holly, who seems to like Henry, maybe as more than a friend), Henry leaps at the chance. Little does he know that he’ll be walking right into the middle of a fresh set of evil plots, and a conspiracy aimed at stealing the throne by any means necessary. A zombie emperor, some truly nasty Faeries of the Night, a conspiracy of telepathic and symbiotic worms, demons, and the return of some familiar bad guys will all keep Henry, Pyrgus, Fogarty and Holly Blue on their toes. Should they fail, Faerie’s in major trouble.

The sequel to Faerie Wars, The Purple Emperor continues the complex plotting, sharp characterization and fast-moving story of Henry and his friends. It’s always fun to see a new or interesting take on the land of Faerie; this pseudo-technological, not-quite-Victorian/industrial take is intriguing and ripe for exploration. Brennan excels at creating the sort of bad guys you love to hate (and really want to see dealt with properly once and for all), injects humor without taking it too far, and even throws in a tiny dash of the requisite romantic angle. Memorable characters and a richly-developed storyline both help to make this a series worth checking out. Luckily, there’s at least two more books planned for the series, so we’ll have plenty more of Henry, Pyrgus, and Holly Blue, and a chance to see just what’s in store for them.

The Prophecy of the Stones, by Flavia Bujor (Hyperion, 2004)

Jade, the daughter of the powerful Duke of Divulyon. Amber, a simple country girl. Opal, an intellectual, artistic city girl. Under normal circumstances, these three teenagers would never have met, never have been forced to travel together, never been forced to run from powerful forces bent on controlling or destroying them. But these are not normal circumstances. When each of the three turns fourteen, they’re given a magical gem, each matched to her namesake, and told where to go to meet the other two girls, and thus, a prophecy flares to life. Until now, their lives have been lies, their destinies hidden, their purposes kept secret for ancient reasons. But what enemy lies in their future, affecting their movements from afar, and how does it all tie into the mystical realm known as Fairytale? And what does all of this have to do with a young woman named Joa, struggling for her life in a hospital bed in modern-day Paris?

Originally published in 2002, 15-year-old French author Flavia Bujor’s first novel, The Prophecy of the Stones, has met with great success in Europe, and is now available here in the United States. On the basis of its best-selling status elsewhere, and the cover copy, I was more than prepared to enjoy this book. Unfortunately, it didn’t live up to its promise. Plain and simple, this book was written by a 13-year-old, and it reads like it was written by a 13-year-old. There’s an immense amount of potential here, but it’s lost in the weak plotting, shallow characterization, and somewhat haphazard pacing. Not having read the book in its original language, I don’t know whether the book’s faults are its own, or in part due to translation from French into English. The bottom line is that while The Prophecy of the Stones is a worthy effort, it didn’t grab me at all, and its qualities are outweighed by its flaws. It may appeal to a younger age group, but those expecting a more mature or smoother story will be disappointed. I think this may be a case of publishers attempting to recreate the lightning in a bottle effect of Harry Potter, and falling short by aiming too low. While I wish the best for the author, I likewise hope that this early success in her career doesn’t stop her from continuing to hone her craft. For now, give this one a pass until it comes out in paperback.

The Princess Tales, by Gail Carson Levine, (HarperTrophy, 2002)

Gail Carson Levine revisits three favorite fairy tales, and reinterprets them with a wry sense of self-aware humor in this compilation of the first three books in her Princess Tales series. In The Fairy’s Mistake, twin sisters are given very special rewards by the fairy Ethelinda. Because of her kind and generous nature, Rosella finds jewels tumbling from her mouth whenever she speaks. However, when Myrtle demonstrates her selfish and careless nature, she finds bugs and snakes and other nasty things crawling out with her words. A handsome prince comes by and falls madly in love with Rosella and whisks her away to his castle, to live happily ever after. Right? Wrong. And that’s when things stop going according to Ethelinda’s plan. Rosella’s miserable. The prince is greedy and materialistic. Myrtle finds new and interesting uses for her ability. The good sister’s reward is more a punishment. The bad sister’s punishment is more a reward. Can one rather baffled fairy set things straight, or will the wrong people live happily ever after?

Then, in The Princess Test, Levine retells “The Princess and the Pea” by asking, “What if the princess in question wasn’t really a princess?” Lorelei is a blacksmith’s daughter with a profoundly accident-prone nature, whose only real talent is for embroidery. Any other task is liable to create havoc, or worse. Meanwhile, the monarchs of Biddle are searching for the perfect princess for their son, Prince Nicholas. To that end, they’ve devised a few tests to weed out any who don’t exactly suit their needs. When Lorelei accidentally becomes one of the royal testees, will she pass with flying colors, or fail over something as small as a pea?

Finally, Princess Sonora and the Long Sleep brings us back to the story of “Sleeping Beauty” with a few twists. This time, the princess is the smartest person in the world, and fully aware of her cursed destiny. This time, the prince goes looking for the legendary sleeping princess because of some balding sheep. This time, there’s a second prince, the most boring one in the world, to worry about. Just another day in the kingdom, of course.

Like the original fairy tales these stories are based upon, the characterization may seem lacking in places and the actual plotlines may be somewhat shallow, but that doesn’t erase any of the cleverness or charm. Fairy tales are universal, and reinventing them is easier attempted than succeeded. Luckily, Levine has a knack for keeping the core elements and telling an interesting story in the meantime. These stories are perfect for reading aloud, and I’m looking forward to reading the rest in the series at some point.

The Princess of Neptune, by Quentin Dodd (Farrar Straus Giroux, 2004)

Think your life is weird? Try being teenage heroine Theora Theremin, whose last-minute idea for a science project, to study the possible existence of local legendary lake monster, Big Phil, throws her head-first into an adventure like none other. First she and her brother Verb meet up with ultrafamous scientist Dr. Ubermind and his loyal assistant, Melvin. A chance encounter with some bats that turn out to be giant moon cockroaches provides the next step in an increasingly strange journey leading all the way to Neptune, where Theora finds herself entered in the Calvacade of Loveliness, an intergalactic beauty pageant. Once there, she’s enlisted to hunt down the dreaded Beast of the Mall, participate in a musical contest with impossible stakes, and face off against an unexpected foe from her past. One thing’s for certain: in The Princess of Neptune, nothing is predictable.

While on some levels, the concept is familiar (normal Earth person plucked from their normal life and thrust into alien society, see the following review for another example of this), The Princess of Neptune still manages to come off as fresh and fun. It’s strongly reminiscent of Daniel Pinkwater’s work, and is sure to appeal to those with a sense of whimsy.

The Princess Academy, by Shannon Hale (Bloomsbury, 2005)

For many years, the people of Mount Eskel have been a neglected part of a larger kingdom, their remote region noteworthy only for the stone they quarry and their fiercely independent ways. That’s how it is, and that’s how they like it, having very little interest in the world of the lowlands. For Miri, her only real goal is to be allowed to work in the quarry as well, like everyone she knows, but it’s the one thing her father absolutely forbids her to do, so instead she reluctantly deals with housework and trading when the lowland traders come up every year. Little does she, or anyone else, realize that things are about to change. It all starts with a prophecy, that the prince will marry a girl from Mount Eskel. Since it wouldn’t do for the prince to marry an unworthy, uneducated commoner, the tradition has long been for the eligible girls of the prophesied region to attend a special finishing school. And so the Princess Academy is built on Mount Eskel, and its eligible teenage girls all but forced to attend it, competing with one another for honor, privilege, and the chance to marry Prince Steffan. For Miri and her friends, it’ll be a time of testing and internal strife, as they’re put through their paces by the tyrannical Olana, punished severely for any rulebreaking or test-failing. But in some ways, it’s a chance for the girls to shine, to discover their strengths and weaknesses, and to grow into their abilities. And when a true crisis strikes them, the girls of Mount Eskel will face their most dangerous test yet. But in the end, the question remains: who will Prince Steffan choose, and how will it change Mount Eskel’s standing in the kingdom? The answer isn’t what you think it is.

Once again, Hale manages to knock stereotypes and common fairy tale elements sideways. In The Princess Academy, she gives us strong heroines who don’t sit around waiting to be saved, or dreaming of a happily-ever-after. No, they have their own plans, their own minds to speak, and are quite capable of saving themselves when necessary. For the most part, they don’t dream of growing up to marry the prince; they have other dreams, and pursue other destinies, and have to be forced to attend the academy. These are bright, stalwart, unconventional heroines, worthy of admiration, and Miri is the best of the bunch, especially once she discovers her hidden talents. The Princess Academy is a rare thing: a modern fairy tale that owes almost nothing to the classics, yet fits right in with them. Hale hasn’t let me down yet; The Princess Academy is just as good as The Goose Girl and Enna Burning. Though aimed at a slightly younger audience than the first two, Hale doesn’t compromise or sacrifice plot, characterization, or complexity. Don’t miss this.