Tag Archives: Karen’s Pick

Fairy Tales from the Brothers Grimm

Edited by Philip PullmanThese are the Grimm fairytales as pulled from various sources, both well-loved and obscure, edited by Philip Pullman, author of The Golden Compass. It’s probably a given that the fairytales we absorb as children don’t generally sound quite the same when we hear them again as adults (although that probably also has something to do with Disney and the variations of some tales, especially the most popular such as Cinderella and Little Red Riding Hood, that abound), and while you might already know some of the gory originals to the stories you know and love – the removal of various parts of the feet in Cinderella, for one, is pretty well-circulated – Pullman does an excellent job choosing and editing the tales that he chooses to include in this volume.

Pullman states from the start that he has taken liberties with some of the tales, leaving others in their original state, and he lets you know after each of the fairytales which ones have been revised from their original state and which have been preserved in whole, and, most importantly, why. He also makes a good point: fairytales were, and remain in part, a part of oral tradition, and as such the performer of the tale makes their own changes to parts of the story, whether it be the plot or the details, in order to tailor it to their way of storytelling – so why not change what doesn’t seem to be working, as an editor, to make even better fairytales for the reader? Continue reading

At the Existentialist Café

Freedom, Being & Apricot CocktailsSarah Bakewell promises freedom, being and apricot cocktails at this here café, but I think what we get is actually – and I kid you not – a love story. Which is not to say that love stories and freedom, being, and apricot cocktails are mutually exclusive – least of all that last one, I’m sure!

I’m going to argue my case. It’s a love story firstly between Bakewell and the existentialist philosophers (and philosophy), but also, through the process of becoming witness to that story, between the reader and – I suppose it’s a pick and choose, but I truly do think he’s the protagonist here – Jean-Paul Sartre. Don’t get me wrong, now. Bakewell does an extremely good job picking apart existentialism and following it through the ages, from its inchoate stages through its evolution in Sartre and other customers of this existentialist café over time. She details their relationships with each other as they become friends, break with each other, try again, and break it off for good. There is a good mix of 1)historical context, which I appreciated a lot and helps give depth to the characters, allowing you to understand what may have served as possible motivators, 2)character development, and 3)the understanding that ideas are not static entities, are subject to change, and sometimes defy attempts at definition. Bakewell embraces #3 from the very start, and having read this book cover to cover, I leave satisfied not being able to provide a clean and simple definition of what exactly constitutes existentialism. But let’s talk about #2: character development. Continue reading

The Good Little Book

Available at VPLI’m going to be honest: I am totally enamoured of Kyo Maclear. And if you’re into picture books that are just as much fun for adults to read as for children, then you’re going to be enamoured of her too.

The Good Little Book, illustrated by Marion Arbona, is, as always with the illustrators Maclear partners up with, beautifully drawn and visually engaging*. That’s not all, though; while I will concede that the story is not actually all that exciting – it talks about a boy who got into trouble and sits out his punishment in the library, where he discovers The Good Little Book – the details are what really charm the reader. The first thought I had while reading it was “THIS IS SO META!” (this is a good thing.),  because as I’ve mentioned above, The Good Little Book features in The Good Little Book! Which, I think, is pretty cool. (Not that it’s the first book to do so, nor do I believe it will be the last. See, for example, Jenni Desmond’s The Blue Whale). And there’s more! By putting the book itself into the contents of the book, Maclear actually intimates that we, the reader, are part of the story: we are an extension of the image of all the readers who have ever read, who are reading, and who will ever read The Good Little Book.

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