RED: THE TRUE STORY OF RED RIDING HOOD, Liesl Shurtliff

I’m starting to realize that I’ve read and reviewed a fair number of fantasy books inspired by the Little Red Riding Hood story, and more are on the way. So either this cape-wearing girl is just really popular, or my repertoire is too narrow, and what little readership I have will soon be sick to death of her. In my defense, two of those stories were about the same Red Riding Hood from Once Upon A Time, just as this Red is the same character featured in Rump: The True Story of Rumpelstiltskin. For both girls, the second book is their true debut as protagonists, so technically I’ve only reviewed two Red Riding Hood stories, right? (Not for long—be on the lookout for Sisters Red.)

In my further defense, I had to give Red a try after enjoying Rump so much, even if part of that enjoyment came from my attachment to the Rumpelstiltskin fairytale—and a certain TV show’s rendition of its titular character. But Shurtliff’s smart and fun writing styles played no small part, so Red deserves as much consideration. 

With that expectation in mind, I will say that picking up this book first left me a little unbalanced. Not because we don’t get a strong voice in our child narrator or hilarious imagery (one of the first spells Red casts as a little girl is making roses grow out of her nose)—its tone just doesn’t ring quite as mature as Rump’s. Perhaps this is due to how Rump’s story opened with an explanation of how his mother died while giving birth to him. The dark stuff doesn’t kick in for Red until a few chapters in when she recalls how she almost killed Granny by accidently dropping a tree on her with magic. This flashback explains why Red is so reluctant to use magic, or at least her own magic. This decision naturally sets up a story about how Red comes to terms with her powers and learns not to be afraid of them. The predictable moral, while sound, may turn off some readers out of foreseen boredom. I advise them not to dismiss it yet. Not until they’ve met Goldie—then you can run for the hills if you wish.

Goldie, the one of Goldilocks fame, comes in some time after Red starts her journey, which begins with watching her grandmother succumb to a nasty cold. Red fears that Granny might die, so she desperately seeks the ingredients for a cure-all tonic. Her quest brings her into the woods, where she meets a wandering, chatty Goldie. The problem with Goldie, both for Red and for the readers, is that she cannot grasp the concept of shutting the hell up. Granted, she’s supposed to be an irritant to Red at the start of their relationship; that hardly saves her from being an irritant to the readers as well. Bit by bit, if you decide to stick with the story, Goldie proves herself somewhat useful as well as an unexpected friend. Red comes around to this since, after Rump’s departure, she has no one besides her family. As in Rump, Red’s status as the Witch of the Woods’ granddaughter and her peculiar name have frustrated any attempts at friendships with the locals. Now, since much of the village has up and moved due to depleted gold sources, Red spends most of her time either alone or with Granny. Goldie is far from her first choice in a companion (or ours), being often obnoxiously naïve or cheerful. But Goldie has a quest of her own: she wants to get her hands on a love potion. Red, while annoyed at the idea of Goldie being so lovesick for a boy, reluctantly agrees to help her. Their respective quests bring them into contact with a grumpy dwarf (ha ha) who provides Red three magical solutions that can give her grandmother immortality. To no great surprise, each solution comes with a terrible price that Red must learn while keeping herself and Goldie alive.

One of the book’s strengths, and a reason to stick with it even with the easy-to-guess moral and annoying companion, is how Red matures throughout the story. Shurtliff gets you invested in each mini quest and how Red logistically and emotionally deals with these scenarios, so that by the time we do reach the obvious moral at the end of the book, it actually resonates well. Some extraneous elements may seem distracting at first, like the presence of the wolf and the huntsman—yes, strange to call them ‘extraneous’ in a Red Riding Hood story. The two characters just flit in and out early on. Only in time do we learn that they do play an important role. They don’t really aid in Red’s quest to save Granny, but help her discover parts of herself that she has either kept buried or simply not acknowledged before.

Shurtliff also succeeds in including more fairy tales or alluding to them, even more so than in Rump. Again, a few characters serve as a nod to Snow White, who supposedly was a real person in this universe, but she lived hundreds of years ago. That’s quite a fascinating and original approach; most fairy tale crossovers make all the famous tales contemporaries of each other. Shurtliff also can’t resist including “Snow White and Rose Red,” which isn’t directly related to either Snow White (of the seven dwarves) or Red Riding Hood in its Grimm Brothers incarnation. Even so, it becomes part of the narrative fabric of Red. I love that Granny is the Rose Red of that story. It explains not only how Red got her red cloak, or possibly why she was named Red, but Granny’s identity ends up connecting to the roses in the Beauty and the Beast story. Oh, when mentions of a beast living in a castle first came up, I was prepared for the same old clichéd (but usually enjoyable) character and story, and that maybe Red or Goldie would end up being the Beauty to the Beast. But no—it’s much better than that, and I won’t spoil it for anyone here.

An aspect of both Rump and Red that intrigues me is how Shurtliff plays with the basic elements of the original stories while also obliquely explaining how these “true” stories would be interpreted as the stories we already know. Anyone who’s heard of Red Riding Hood knows the bare-bones plot: little girl travels to her granny’s house, gets sidetracked by a wolf, shows up at her granny’s house where the wolf is disguised as the granny, the wolf tries to eat the girl, and the huntsman saves the day. When Shurtliff’s version (titled the “true story” of Red) comes to a close, you can see how some characters in the story could interpret events as they happened in the original. But she doesn’t go overboard with it. She doesn’t try to pull a Gregory Maguire in which it’s basically a conspiracy that paints some heroic characters as the villains and vice versa. She gives just enough and directs the readers to see how the characters in her universe might in time pass down the story in the way we typically know it. This idea is already suggested in how Red and Goldie know the Snow White story (allegedly the same one we know), but it may not be the true story of Snow White in their world. I take it as one of the lessons Shurtliff wants to impress on younger readers, and even as a reminder to older ones: we shouldn’t take familiar stories for granted. The true story, if there is one, may in fact be a warped reskin of events that have surface similarities but tell very different narratives.

Then there’s Shurtliff’s other important lesson in this particular book, one she briefly discusses in her afterward: dealing with death. It’s not quite what you might first think. A children’s story in which the main character grapples with her own mortality would probably come across as heavy-handed. That’s not what Shurtliff addresses. Rather, Red’s story is about facing the concept of loss, specifically of people she loves. Death is a primary motivator that, thanks to its permanent effects, earns a lot of focus throughout the story. Other types of loss are touched on, too, like that of parental love Goldie feels she’s lost (the love potion is for her mother, not a boy she’s crushing on). Loss becomes tied to fear, and fear dominates Red’s experiences in this book. This theme comes to fruition when she realizes that, even though Granny does get well (technically spoilers, but don’t act like it’s a big shock), she will die someday, and that’s a loss Red will have to cope with. However, instead of living in fear of that loss, the healthy course of action for Red is to cherish her Granny and the time they have left together. That’s a tough but important lesson for everyone to learn, let alone children.

The book has its humor and its thrills, but the ending left me choked up, and books don’t do that to me easily! What makes its emotional impact so potent is that it doesn’t beat around the bush to spare feelings; Red and Granny talk honestly about death and loss, giving the subject grounding in reality while also not making it the terrifying, taboo topic that many people feel it is—again, especially where children are concerned. For this message alone, I recommend Red to children of all ages. The tone and language do at times show who the intended audience is supposed to be (middle school kids), but don’t let that stop a parent, or any adult, from giving this book a try.

Rating: 4/5