One of the questions I ask myself about the books I choose for reviews is whether it’s worth the effort to look at ones intended for a younger audience--not just YA, but ages 8 through 12 (so Yearling tells me in miniscule print on the book’s rear; hah, rear). Maybe I ask this to potentially spare myself minor embarrassment at the bookstore or the library, but the truth is children’s literature should face discernment. We should measure it by appropriate standards and reward those works that go beyond our expectations. I admit my heart was already soft toward this book due to my growing love for the Rumpelstiltskin fairy tale and a certain character on a certain television show that just returned for its fifth season (if only they’d actually let him be in the show now).
Ahem.
With that said, I dare anyone to read through Rump and reach its final pages without the tiniest smile on his or her face. Not only is it a fun retelling of the old story and sneaks in nods to other classics like Red Riding Hood, Snow White and Rapunzel, but it takes its material seriously, and it takes its readers seriously. It doesn’t rest on pseudo-lingo for a joke or “speak the youth language.” Its narrative is straightforward and honest and shimmers with charming humor.
Revamping Rumpelstiltskin isn’t new territory. In fact, a short time ago I read a collection of short stories tackling it under the title The Rumpelstiltskin Problem (also worth checking out). Rump takes a creative approach that also feels in the vein of Wicked and Ella Enchanted. Our protagonist is Rump, a mostly ordinary boy at first glance. If you think his mother had a cruel sense of humor, that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Both Rump’s name and the discovery of his power--to spin straw into gold--set off a chain reaction that in no small way spins out of his control. As expected, he must undergo a journey to right mistakes and learn about his origins and his destiny. What’s not (entirely) expected is the twists and turns his adventure takes and the weighty revelations he has to grapple with along the way. Shurtliff crafts a moving, humorous yet bittersweet tale and a painfully relatable main character. Rump is at once remarkable and flawed, foolish yet smart, as children and heroes must be. You want to join his best friend Red in smacking him upside the head for his short-sighted choices, but you never doubt that he will find a way, somehow, once he puts his mind to it.
Some revelations might be obvious before they unfold, but I honestly couldn’t predict all that would happen, especially as I approached the story’s climax. Much like the magic that’s his blessing and his curse, Rump’s problems cinch tighter and tighter around him like a noose. The first-person narrative is endearing instead of grating as it brings Rump’s voice to the forefront, appropriate given what he has to overcome. It inserts little welcomed lulls in the action, like when he flees to his mother’s hometown and meets his extended family, while not forgetting the looming threat he eventually must face. Even knowledge of the Rumpelstiltskin tale won’t give away all the answers to this story’s resolution. When a story can pull that off, regardless the intended readership, it deserves all the kudos.
What complaints I have don’t really diminish my enjoyment of this book, but they deserve mentioning. As Rumpelstiltskin is often regarded as the villain of the fairy tale, I had hoped we’d see nuanced characters across the board, even the antagonists. Sadly, the villains are pretty one-dimensional, but at least Rump’s primary foe is dastardly enough to make him credibly intimidating. I would have enjoyed seeing more explored in the other referenced tales, especially with Red (spoilers: no wolves).
Even with these shortcomings accounted for, I highly recommend this book, along with the author’s note after the story’s end for insight into Shurtliff’s thought process. She mentions that this story took multiple drafts, which shows in a good way. Her writing demonstrates careful thought and follow-through in tying many threads together (except one detail: what is with the miller’s daughter’s tongue? I was sure she’d turn out to be a toad). Shurtliff’s hard work, talent and passion show in every line. I’m most moved by how she talks about her childhood being shadowed by her unusual name, which inspired her interest in “Rumpelstiltskin” and this book. The genre and target audience don’t matter: when someone authentically imbues a core part of herself in her work, and in doing so conveys a message that touches other people with similar experiences, she has created a work of art.
Rating: 4.5/5
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