THE SPINNER AND THE SLIPPER, Camryn Lockhart

Brace yourself, dearies: it’s a fusion retelling! Rumpelstiltskin meets Cinderella! Yes, I’m about to review a fairytale re-imagining involving a favorite fairy tale of mine. In reviews like these, sometimes I find myself on the brink of maniacal laughter. Why? Because my readers are no doubt sick of seeing yet another book review focused on Rumpelstiltskin. And I’m too villainous to stop. Cue evil laughter.

Maybe I wouldn’t make a credible villain, but at least I’d be a memorable one, unlike those in Camryn Lockhart’s The Spinner and the Slipper. If you think I’m referring to Rumpelstiltskin, the titular Spinner, you’d be quite mistaken. Now, I enjoy a non-villainous Rumpel portrayal as much as—well, more than most people—but I also like my Rumpel intriguing, complex, and sympathetic as well as flawed. This Rumpel is …  a little too tame for my taste. Given his role in this Rumpelstiltskin/Cinderella crossover, it’s understandable why he comes our more “hero” than “trickster.” As for Cinderella, well, better start from the top. There’s a lot more to cover with her.

We open with a parent death scene. Ah, a classic fairy tale trope that will never die. How ironic. Said death is centered on the mother of this story’s Cinderella. Eliana, our soon-to-be-orphaned heroine, is only a child at this point, but she understands that her kind mother is breathing her last, and she desperately hopes for a miracle to save her. Instead, as a parting gift, her mother bequeaths a necklace and ring that seem to be made of gold. She explains that while these will be precious tokens of her love, Eliana must be willing to give them up when asked. Why? Uhhhh … no time to explain. Must die now!

Short Review: LITTLE MAN, Michael Cunningham

First, a preamble: I swear I didn’t mean for my first “short” review for fantasy short stories to be for a work with a synonym in the title. The concept and the decision to do it at all was very short notice. I put little thought into it, but I figure that some tiny effort should be made on my part to include short fiction in the fantasy genre in my small but growing repertoire.

Sorry, sorry. Forgive the slight digression.

THE SHORT VERSION:

Michael Cunningham is one of those contemporary literary writers I really should be reading (I have at least one of his novels on my shelf), but instead I’m engorging myself on fairytale-inspired fantasy books and TV shows. So Cunningham did the only thing he could to get my attention: write his own fairytale-inspired story.

Of course I speak in jest, but an eerie tingle went down my spine when I saw that “Little Man” was published in the New Yorker last summer. Oh, and he published a collection of reduxed fairy tales in A Wild Swan and Other Tales AND a novel titled The Snow Queen. All right, Michael, you’re on my list.

THE RUMPELSTILTSKIN PROBLEM, Vivian Vande Velde

Yes, I know I said my review of Out of the Past would follow Shadow of the Queen. Unfortunately the holidays, illness and some writer’s block intervened. So, instead, you’re getting another book that inflicts much less strain on my brain’s logic centers (thanks, Vasquez and Bechko). Funnily enough, the title of this short-story collection could be an alternate to that of Once Upon A Time—The Rumpelstiltskin Problem. 

This imp doth protest!

Anyone watching OUAT understands the Rumplestiltskin problem all too well (one that I continue to consider the best part of the show—is my bias showing yet?). But Vande Velde is addressing something else. In her preface, she highlights some details from the fairytale “Rumpelstiltskin” that are, let's say, fairly questionable. 

RUMP: THE TRUE STORY OF RUMPELSTILTSKIN, Liesl Shurtliff

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.