Goose Girl, by Shannon Hale (Bloomsbury, 2003)

The third and final look at retold fairy tales again turns its attention to geese, with Goose Girl. In this particular version, Anidori-Kiladra, Crown Princess of the small kingdom of Kildenree, is born with a peculiar, magical gift, to understand the language of birds. Encouraged by her aunt, but discouraged by her mother, Ani is forced to keep her gift a secret from almost everyone as she grows up, so she won’t be thought a witch. She must, insists her mother, learn to be a princess and a ruler. However, when Ani learns that she’s being groomed to marry the prince of the much larger kingdom of Bayern, that she’s just a pawn in her mother’s hands, her world is changed forever. For her faithful servant Selia has designs on the Princess’ life, and very identity, and during the long months of the journey to Bayern, Selia and her conspirators have time to attempt to kill and replace Ani once and for all.

But Ani is a survivor, and ultimately, she ends up as a goose girl, tending the animals in the capital city of Bayern. Can she hide her true identity, escape the men seeking her death, convince the King and his son of the true story, and stop the war that could destroy Kildenree? Time will tell. This story has all the familiar elements of the fairy tale it expands on: a princess replaced by a servant, a faithful horse named Falada, magic, betrayal, and the question of loyalty versus identity. Faithful to the source material, it’s actually more logical, more intriguing, and more exciting than the original tale, a worthy updating that I found hard to put down. Ani is cast in the welcome mold of “spunky princess”, the sort who endures great trial and earns her noble station through action, words, and faith, a good role model by almost any standard.

Goose Chase, by Patrice Kindl (Puffin Books, 2002)

It just so happens I stumbled across a small cache of retold fairy tales in time for this edition of my column. First up is Goose Chase, which ties together stock elements from a number of stories, including the orphaned goose girl, the enchanted animals, and the fairy’s reward, to tell a tale that’s both new and familiar at the same time. Alexandria used to be an ordinary goose girl, until a fairy “rewarded” her generosity by granting her beauty, gold dust in her hair, and diamond tears. Now she has not one, but two men, a prince and a king, vying for her hand, and she wants nothing to do with either man. Locked in a tower for her own “safety”, Alexandria has different plans altogether, involving escaping and running away with her only allies, the twelve geese left in her care. Little does she know she’ll have ogresses, an evil baroness, and an awful king to contend with, and the unwilling and uncooperative aid of her unwanted suitor, Prince Edmund of Dorloo, to put up with. Secrets and twists abound in this fairy tale, and even those who think they can predict the ending will be surprised. Goose Chase is a bright and enjoyable example of how one can take pieces of old stories, and create something new from them.

Goddesses #3: Muses on the Move and #4: Love or Fate, by Clea Hantman (Avon Books, 2002)

Goddesses #3: Muses on the Move, and Goddesses #4: Love or Fate, continue and conclude the story about three teenage Muses exiled to modern-day Earth until they can overcome certain character flaws. When we last saw our heroines, Polly (Polyhymnia), Era (Erato), and Thalia, they were headed off on Thanksgiving break to enjoy the road trip of a lifetime. And while Polly and Era just want to have fun, and their mortal friend (and driver) Pocky just wants a really good Thanksgiving dinner, Thalia has an ulterior motive: to find the ultra-hot football-playing transfer student, Dylan from Denver, who’s supposedly moved back to Denver. Little does she know that Dylan from Denver was really Apollo, the very god she refused to marry, and that after his unsuccessful attempt to win her over on the mortal plane, he’s gone home to Olympus.

As the three mythological teenagers and their mortal escorts careen from city to city over the course of an ever-crazier weekend, jaunting from Athens (Georgia) to Williamsburg (Virginia) to New York City to New Orleans, Thalia breaks one of the cardinal rules of her exile to Earth: she uses magic to shorten the trip, all in the hopes of getting to Denver. Poor Pocky gets more and more confused, and he still can’t get his Thanksgiving dinner. Worse yet is the trail of magically-induced chaos left in the Muses’ wake, the futile attempt Apollo (once again disguised as Dylan from Denver) makes to track down Thalia, and the undeniable fact that the Queen of the Gods, Hera, wants the three sisters to fail in their redemption. To that end, she’s allowed the three Furies (Meg, Tizzie, and Alek) to do whatever they want to make our heroes slip up. At the end of Muses on the Move, they’re back in Athens, just in time for Hera to show up and banish them all to Hades. For all eternity. At the mercy of the Furies, who have no mercy.

In Love or Fate, Thalia, Polly, and Era must marshal their resources and overcome those pesky character flaws if they want to escape. There’s the Furies to avoid, a three-headed dog (Cerberus, not Fluffy) to tame, a maze to master, and Hera to overcome. Magicless and doomed to a miserable eternity if they fail, they may need a little help from their friends, including ever-faithful Apollo. But if they succeed, they’ll be welcome back home in Olympus, and maybe Thalia and Apollo can finally get to go on a real date…

To be honest, I was surprised to see this series end so quickly. I had it pegged for one that would go on for quite some time, the Muses not earning their redemption for many books to come. However, Book Four seems to wrap up that storyline in a neat little package, even if it does drop their mortal friends like several hot potatoes early on with no promise of returning, when the focus shifts to the perils of Hades rather than the comic misadventures on Earth. I almost expect to see more in the series; after all, there are six other Muses to consider… Like the first two books, this series is part Greek Myth Lite, part teenage comedy, combining the two elements for an entertaining if somewhat airy story. If that’s all there is, it’s still a fun read, sure to appeal to its target audience. If there’s more to come, I’ll definitely check it out.

Goddesses #1:Heaven Sent and #2: Three Girls and a God, by Clea Hantman (Avon, 2002)

Polly, Era, and Thalia have just suffered the ultimate in grounding: banishment to Earth. You see, they’re not exactly ordinary run-of-the-mill teenage girls. No, they’re the resident troublemakers of Olympus, home of the Greek gods, and they’ve just upset their father, Zeus, for the last time. Faced between an eternity in Tartarus and exile to Earth, the three girls have no choice but to take the least of two evils. Before anyone can blink an eye, Polly (short for Polyhymnia), Era (Erato), and Thalia are on Earth. What are three teenage Muses to do while working towards redemption? Good question.

Zeus may be all-powerful, but even he makes mistakes. Instead of Athens, Greece, 423 B.C.E., the trio ends up in Athens, Georgia, 2002. Oops. Exiled to a world they have absolutely no clue about, obligated to attend the series of pitfalls known as high school, and forbidden to use any magic whatsoever, Thalia and her sisters are in for a rough time. Nova High’ll never know what hit it.

The first in this new series, Heaven Sent, sets up the basic premise, introducing us to Polly, Thalia, and Era. Polly’s the meddling one, always trying to help others without fully thinking through the consequences. Era’s the compliant one, allowing her sisters to sway her against her better judgment. And Thalia’s the self-centered sister, thinking of herself before others, and allowing her own needs to blind her to the repercussions. They’ll need to work together, and to overcome these faults, before they can return home to Olympus. It’s going to be a long exile, unfortunately. Not only do they have to overcome their own faults and minimize the damage of the others’ shortcomings, but they must do it while adjusting to an alien world, and all without even a shred of handy magic to smooth those edges. And what’s up with that nasty trio of “Backroom Betties,” the girls in the back of the room determined to ruin our heroines’ day with malicious gossip and outright manipulation? Do they have any relation to the Muses’ mortal enemies, the Furies?

As Heaven Sent progresses, we’re filled in on the backstory. Namely, just what the three did that was so awful that Hera (queen of the gods, wicked stepmother extraordinaire) was ready to send them to Tartarus for. It involves a wedding, a book of forbidden spells, and an outbreak of Scyllia disease, which involves such lovely symptoms as serpents and sea scum. Oops. We’re also treated to Teen Life 101, or How To Be A Teenager In Several Easy Lessons. That is, if your teacher’s Hermes and everything he knows came from television. Hint: hide large thighs with vertical stripes, and call Oprah for advice, and for everything else, there’s Mastercard.

The first book culminates in a battle of wills, magic, and talent against the Furies, as Polly exercises her true talents of song and dance, and asserts herself as someone to be reckoned with. Will the Furies leave our heroines alone? Will Polly get more respect? Will Thalia get the guy of her dreams? Will they ever get back to Olympus? Obviously not in this book, because in the sequel, Three Girls and a God, things go from bad to worse.

How much worse? Well, Hera’s not too happy about that magic usage from the first book, and she’s not in a mood to grant a second chance, until Zeus placates her with some fast talk and a lot of jewelry. One more mistake, though, and… To complicate matters, the Furies are still lurking around in their own guise as high school students (Tizzie, Meg, and Alek) and Apollo (yes, the god himself) is determined to lend Polly, Thalia, and Era a hand. Zeus has his doubts, but it’s away to Earth for Apollo.

Meanwhile, Era’s followed her heart, right into survival class, all because of a crush on the instructor. She’s the most unlikely candidate for a survival class alive, unfortunately. Polly’ll do anything to help her sister out, but will she go too far this time? Thalia has a video report to do on what it’s like to be a teenager, and she’s been partnered not with her new best friend Claire, but with the new guy in school, Dylan from Denver. Who always wears a full football uniform, even to class, complete with helmet and football. Whose last name seems to be “from Denver.” Who has the major hots for none other than Thalia. What planet is he from? It’s wacky hijinks and one mix-up after another as the three Muses and the three Furies continue to play off against one another, with Dylan in the middle. In the end, Polly will learn something about helping others, Era will learn about self-sufficiency, and Thalia will learn about teenage life. Unfortunately, they’re not much closer to returning home, which perfectly sets them up for the next book in the series, Muses on the Move, which involves a road trip to Denver over Thanksgiving break.

I have to admit that, lightweight as these books are, I enjoyed them. The characters are lively and consistent, mixing the confusion of the teenage years with the absolute naivety that can only come from being absolutely unfamiliar with the real world. They’re smart in all the wrong ways, knowledgeable in the arts and sciences of ancient Greece, but clueless when it comes time to try and fit in. By examining modern society from an outside viewpoint, the series gives the reader a new insight into how high school works, pulling forth as much comedic value as possible in the process.

By far, the most amusing aspect of Goddesses has to be the footnotes. Every time one of the Muses (with Thalia being the most frequent narrator) casually drops a reference to a name or place from myth, the footnotes explain it in more detail … as coming from a high school student. It’s Greek myth lite, with Medea explained as “a booty-kicking witch who was dating Jason, one of Era’s first loves” and the goddess Aurora described as “the cheerleader of the goddess world” and Jason himself called “A serious babe and heir to the throne of Greece… sort of the Prince William of ancient times.” That’s one way of conveying information without making it dull.

With two books out so far, and more on the way, Goddesses is a welcome addition to the bookshelves. The books are light, enjoyable, and ultimately harmless. They’ll appeal to the younger teenage crowd who want something that doesn’t overly tax the brain. I’ll be keeping an eye on the series, just to see if Thalia gets her guy in the end, or if the Furies will muck it all up. These aren’t high literature, but they’re good, honest fun.

Gifts, by Ursula K. Le Guin (Harcourt, 2004)

In the Uplands, warring clans of witchfolk rule, each clan possessing specific, often deadly powers through which they both protect themselves and enforce their wills. It’s a region of distrust, of insular and secretive people, of long-held grudges and blood feuds, of treachery and manipulation. Resources are relatively scarce, and blood is valued above all else. Those with the strongest powers dominate the others. And yet there are those few who refuse to buy into the cycle of hate and distrust. Orrec of Caspromant possesses one of the most feared gifts of all: the ability to kill with a look. To protect those he cares about, he’s voluntarily blinded himself, his eyes shielded from the world with cloth and padding. His best friend and constant companion, Gry, can call animals with a thought, yet refuses to betray them to the hunt. Together, they struggle to remain true to their principles while tested by the world around them. But one of Caspromant’s neighbors, an evil and greedy chieftain named Ogge Drum, could destroy everything with his dark ambition. In the end, Orrec and Gry will learn the price of power, and the cost of their principles. The truth will surprise them all.

Le Guin’s first YA work in years, Gifts is a wonderfully told, beautifully crafted story that really brings home the hard choices we all have to make while growing up. It’s about the responsibility we have to use the gifts we’re born with, and the even harder responsibility to use them properly. Orrec’s relationship with his father will resonate with anyone who’s ever been reluctant to follow in the family tradition, as it were. Gifts may be one of the best things Le Guin has written in quite some time.

Fourth World, by Kate Thompson (Bloomsbury, 2005)

Christie’s always known there was something different about his older stepbrother Danny. Heavy, clumsy, mentally slow, prone to fits and episodes, capable of holding his breath for unusually long times, Danny doesn’t fit in with normal people at all. And when Danny suddenly sets out on a journey across Great Britain to find his birth mother, Christie goes along to keep Danny safe, and hopefully to bring him home again. Along the way, they pick up several friends: a homeless girl, a talking dog, and an equally intelligent talking starling. Together, the odd quintet brave the dangers of a land suffering food and gas shortages, a land on the brink of chaos and collapse, forever journeying towards the mysterious place known only as Fourth World. For it’s there that Danny was born, and where the talking animals were given their amazing intellect and vocal capabilities. It’s there that Maggie, Danny’s mother, holds all the answers to a great many questions. But are her intentions well-meaning if ambitious, or is there something much more sinister going on at Fourth World?

Fourth World is one of those books that just doesn’t stop once it’s picked up speed. The journey of Christie and his friends feels almost epic, as they travel across country via various methods, as the world around them continues to fall apart in a frightening process of disintegration. And when they finally reach Fourth World, it opens up a whole new can of worms. It’s no surprise that Maggie is indulging in genetic experimentation to produce unusual children and talking animals; the real surprise comes when we start getting answers. I thought I knew where Thompson was going, and more than once, she managed to surprise me, right up to the last page. The sad thing is, this is part of a trilogy, with two books left in which to explore the setting and answer the questions that still remain. Hopefully, Thompson can keep up the good work. Believable and all too possible, Fourth World is a young adult science fiction story worthy of attention, and I really want to see what happens to Danny, Christie, Tina and the others.

Firebirds, edited by Sharyn November (Firebird Books, 2003)

In January 2002, Firebird Books was launched, an imprint specifically devoted to young adult and childrens’ fantasy and science fiction, the very same material this column covers. In that short space of time, they’ve released dozens of reprints and originals from some of the best names in the business, stamping their logo on everything from Charles de Lint’s Riddle of the Wren to Robin McKinley’s The Blue Sword, to William Sleator’s Interstellar Pig. Now, however, Firebird turns its attention to short stories with this extraordinary collection of all-new material from seventeen A-List creators. Notable or familiar names include Diana Wynne Jones’s “Little Dot,” Laurel Winter’s “The Flying Woman,” Lloyd Alexander’s “Max Mondrosch,”and Patricia McKillip’s “Byndley.” Of special interest is the contribution from Emma Bull, a retelling of the ballad “Black Fox” accompanied with full comic illustrations by famed artist Charles Vess. With other contributors including Nancy Farmer, Nina Kiriki Hoffman, Delia Sherman, and Garth Nix, it’s a roundup of some excellent writers, with stories that range from the fantastic to the poignant, or even the subtly comic, such as Megan Whalen Turner’s “The Baby in the Night Deposit Box.”
I was up late sampling new offerings from the authors I grew up with, and rediscovering ones I’d almost forgotten. As with all anthologies, there’s enough to appeal to everyone, but not all stories will appeal to every reader. However, it’s rare you’ll get this much quality in one place. Firebirds isn’t just recommended, it’s practically essential reading for people who love this genre.

Fairy Dust, by Jane Denitz Smith (HarperCollins, 2002)

Nine-year-old Ruthie finds her world slipping away slowly when her mother leaves on a long business trip, forced to rely upon her father to take care of everything around the house. However, her father has more than enough to do, so he hires a babysitter to make sure Ruthie is taken care of properly. As each babysitter proves worse than the last, Ruthie and her father despair of finding someone capable and trustworthy enough. Then they meet Alice.

A vivacious, eccentric sixteen-year-old with an incredible imagination and boundless energy, Alice forms a near-instantaneous rapport with Ruthie, telling her stories of magic, and the fairies who live hidden all around them. Sure, she’s a bit odd, and there are rumors about her crazy mother and her own bizarre behavior at school, but Alice seems so right for the job. The room lights up when she walks in, and her belief in the magic of Fairy Dust opens Ruthie’s eyes to a world of imagination and fancy. The two become fast friends, to the point where Ruthie begins to neglect her other friends. But Alice teaches her to imagine colors like azure, snapdragon, abalone, and midnight ice. She helps Ruthie to weave a house for the fairies from twigs, and to fill it with small treasures, and shows her how to use the belief of Fairy Dust to make it all special.

The longer they’re together, the more things begin to fall apart. Alice’s carefree attitude masks deeper problems, her fanciful stories hide the truth, and her willingness to ignore the law gets them both in deep trouble. Alice’s influence does more harm than good, misleading Ruthie to the point where they can no longer be together. How will Ruthie cope with the removal of her best friend, though?

This is an absolutely charming story, whose magic is woven with words and images, metaphorical rather than literal. Those looking for actual fairies, or real fantasy, won’t find it here. This is something much more subtle, and clever. Alice teaches Ruthie how to see the magic in the world, how to extract beauty from what she sees, and how to use her imagination. But at the same time, she’s teaching Ruthie a valuable lesson about honesty, trust, and belief. The fantastic elements in Fairy Dust might be found only in stories and pretend, but they’re right where they need to be. This is a good book for younger readers, teaching them some valuable lessons without making an issue out of it. Finally, the cover is beautiful, evocative of Rackham or another Victorian artist while updating it for a modern setting.

Faerie Wars, by Herbie Brennan (Bloomsbury, 2004)

Two worlds collide in this captivating tale of magic and mayhem. Henry Atherton’s home life is falling apart, his parents separating and his sister in denial. As things get worse, he throws himself into helping old Mr. Fogarty clean up around the place, doing odd jobs for the retired engineer to pick up some extra money. However, what he finds in the garden is enough to change his life forever.
Faerie prince Pyrgus Malvae, one of the Faeries of the Light, has a tendency to dress down and dwell among the commoners. However, a chance escapade lands him neck-deep in trouble, marked for death by some of the most dangerous Faeries of the Night alive. Before he knows it, he’s dodging murderous guards, vile demons, and traitorous plots. Sent to the Earth realm for safekeeping by his family, something goes horribly wrong, and he’s found in his weakened, diminished state, by Henry and Mr. Fogarty. Now the unlikely trio have to stop a series of fiendish dimension-crossing plans before all of Faerie is destroyed. Luckily, they may have the help of Pyrgus’ crafting sister, Blue and her spy network. Faerie Wars is a sharply-crafted, well-told story that puts a new and interesting spin not just on the creatures of Faerie, but on demons, aliens, and political backstabbing. Once I started reading, I couldn’t stop. I hope this isn’t the last we’ll see of Henry, Pyrgus, and Blue.

The Extraordinary Adventures of Alfred Kropp, by Rick Yancey (Bloomsbury, 2005)

Alfred Kropp is an unlikely, unexpected sort of hero. Oversized for fifteen, a slow thinker with no real ambitions or motivations, he’s content to lie in his room and listen to music, rather than please others by playing football or getting a hobby. All of this changes one day, when his uncle enlists his aid in a get-rich-quick scheme which involves Alfred helping to steal a very special sword from one of the world’s most powerful businessmen. Oh, Alfred steals the sword, don’t worry. That much he does right. But when his uncle is killed in a vicious double-cross, and Alfred is left to fend for himself, he finds himself on a grand and terrible adventure. Teaming with a man called Bennacio, last of an ancient Order descended from Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table, Alfred embarks on a quest to retrieve the stolen sword, once known as Excalibur, before it can be sold to the highest bidder. Along the way, as Alfred deals with dark forces, a secret government agency, and people likely to betray him without warning, he must also deal with his own destiny. Why was he drawn into this mess, anyway? He’s no hero, but he’ll have to become one.

There are a lot of familiar elements here: a magical sword, a centuries-old secret order, mysterious parentage and dead family, a teenage protagonist destined for some form of greatness, and so forth. But still, The Extraordinary Adventures of Alfred Kropp works, in part because it manages to maintain a somewhat self-depreciating, self-aware tone, as though the story, like its point-of-view hero, knows it’s going over well-traveled territory and it might as well have fun doing so. It’s a fun tale, a good-hearted adventure that stays true to itself. I can easily see this being turned into a movie. Check it out if you want a fast-paced, tongue-in-cheek adventure.