Monday, June 21, 2010
Mirror Mirror by Gregory Maguire
Summary and Review:
Gregory Maguire is well known for re-imagining the lives of famous storybook characters--the ugly stepsister from Cinderella and the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz are his two most famous takes. In Mirror Mirror, Maguire reworks the story of Snow White. In Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister and Wicked: the Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West (inspiration for the Broadway musical that we all know and love), focus is clearly on the traditional antagonists of the original stories. In Mirror Mirror, Maguire's focus seems to be split. Bianca de Nevada, the beautiful child with snow white skin (which is more often compared to that of a corpse in Maguire's version), certainly is less interesting than the wicked Lucrezia Borgia, the historical inspiration for Maguire's evil stepmother, but much of the third-person narration comes through her point of view. Although the storyline is easily recognized as having the same origins as Disney's version, Maguire's take on Snow White is much darker, grittier, and seemingly grounded in history, via the infamous Borgia family of Renaissance Italy.
I loved seeing Lucrezia Borgia as the wicked stepmother. Maguire takes a multitude of literary liberties with her character, but even without Maguire's assistance, she and her family are darkly fascinating characters. Legend (and history) describe Lucrezia as beautiful and intelligent, but also ruthless, decadent, and morally depraved. And, as suits the traditional purveyor of poisoned fruit, Lucrezia and her kin are infamous for their draughts (see also: The Count of Monte Cristo). I thought it was perfect "casting."
I also appreciated the fact that, although standing in for the part, in Maguire's version, Lucrezia wasn't actually the wicked stepmother. There are a number of stories (like The Wild Swans, Cinderella, and Snow White) which feature a wicked stepmother, a persecuted daughter, and a kind and loving father. Here's the thing: if Daddy's so great, why would he bring home a femme fatale and then sit by while his new squeeze tortures his beloved daughter's life out? In Mirror Mirror, Maguire introduces his villainess without implicating Bianca's dad. I liked that.
However, there was a lot about Mirror Mirror that I did not like.
I really didn't like Maguire's writing style in this book. At times it seemed oddly like he was writing in free verse. In other spots, I could have sworn he was writing in riddles. It got to the point where it seemed like nothing was stated directly; everything was oblique and drawn-out, and it became incredibly frustrating and tedious to read.
What was clear though, was how crude it was. There was everything from the nursemaid/cook having sex with a squid (what?!--and it was totally unnecessary and unrelated to the story, by the way), to a repeated mentions of bodily functions and even a description of Bianca's first menstrual period. Maguire succeeded in making the story earthy, gritty, and as un-Disney as possible, but it was just too much for my taste.
Also, I had a hard time relating to the characters or, really, caring what happened to them. I thought they were all very unsympathetic. With the exception of the Borgias, who were completely horrifying, the characters were extremely passive. I think Maguire tried to dredge up some sympathy for Lucrezia, but it wasn't enough to make up for the fact that she was a complete monster. Bianca was too remote and otherworldly to be interesting, and her father was neither heroic or compelling. In fact, much of the action wasn't action at all--events came about and people either gained or lost because of them through no merit or fault of their own.
And actually, one of the things that I liked about the book, which was Maguire grounding the fairy tale in history, messed up the ending (we all know a handsome prince--of sorts--wakes her up, right? So I'm not letting out any spoilers?). I can buy the fact that the kiss of a handsome prince will somehow counteract the effect of deadly poison when it's in a Disney fairy tale. But Maguire made his story too realistic. It's ludicrous to think that a kiss (especially considering the unromantic way that Borgian relationships were thrown around as bargaining tools) would be the antidote to a Borgia's poison in this case. And, as if he realized this but just didn't want to deal with it, Maguire didn't even attempt to explain how the kiss revived Bianca. Her resurrection was just an afterthought. ★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ (3/10)
Content:
Blood and gore: yes
Sex: Extreme. There are no graphic descriptions, but everything from rape to adultery and incest to beastiality are mentioned.
Language: Very crude in places. Use of the "s-word."
Gregory Maguire is well known for re-imagining the lives of famous storybook characters--the ugly stepsister from Cinderella and the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz are his two most famous takes. In Mirror Mirror, Maguire reworks the story of Snow White. In Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister and Wicked: the Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West (inspiration for the Broadway musical that we all know and love), focus is clearly on the traditional antagonists of the original stories. In Mirror Mirror, Maguire's focus seems to be split. Bianca de Nevada, the beautiful child with snow white skin (which is more often compared to that of a corpse in Maguire's version), certainly is less interesting than the wicked Lucrezia Borgia, the historical inspiration for Maguire's evil stepmother, but much of the third-person narration comes through her point of view. Although the storyline is easily recognized as having the same origins as Disney's version, Maguire's take on Snow White is much darker, grittier, and seemingly grounded in history, via the infamous Borgia family of Renaissance Italy.
I loved seeing Lucrezia Borgia as the wicked stepmother. Maguire takes a multitude of literary liberties with her character, but even without Maguire's assistance, she and her family are darkly fascinating characters. Legend (and history) describe Lucrezia as beautiful and intelligent, but also ruthless, decadent, and morally depraved. And, as suits the traditional purveyor of poisoned fruit, Lucrezia and her kin are infamous for their draughts (see also: The Count of Monte Cristo). I thought it was perfect "casting."
I also appreciated the fact that, although standing in for the part, in Maguire's version, Lucrezia wasn't actually the wicked stepmother. There are a number of stories (like The Wild Swans, Cinderella, and Snow White) which feature a wicked stepmother, a persecuted daughter, and a kind and loving father. Here's the thing: if Daddy's so great, why would he bring home a femme fatale and then sit by while his new squeeze tortures his beloved daughter's life out? In Mirror Mirror, Maguire introduces his villainess without implicating Bianca's dad. I liked that.
However, there was a lot about Mirror Mirror that I did not like.
I really didn't like Maguire's writing style in this book. At times it seemed oddly like he was writing in free verse. In other spots, I could have sworn he was writing in riddles. It got to the point where it seemed like nothing was stated directly; everything was oblique and drawn-out, and it became incredibly frustrating and tedious to read.
What was clear though, was how crude it was. There was everything from the nursemaid/cook having sex with a squid (what?!--and it was totally unnecessary and unrelated to the story, by the way), to a repeated mentions of bodily functions and even a description of Bianca's first menstrual period. Maguire succeeded in making the story earthy, gritty, and as un-Disney as possible, but it was just too much for my taste.
Also, I had a hard time relating to the characters or, really, caring what happened to them. I thought they were all very unsympathetic. With the exception of the Borgias, who were completely horrifying, the characters were extremely passive. I think Maguire tried to dredge up some sympathy for Lucrezia, but it wasn't enough to make up for the fact that she was a complete monster. Bianca was too remote and otherworldly to be interesting, and her father was neither heroic or compelling. In fact, much of the action wasn't action at all--events came about and people either gained or lost because of them through no merit or fault of their own.
And actually, one of the things that I liked about the book, which was Maguire grounding the fairy tale in history, messed up the ending (we all know a handsome prince--of sorts--wakes her up, right? So I'm not letting out any spoilers?). I can buy the fact that the kiss of a handsome prince will somehow counteract the effect of deadly poison when it's in a Disney fairy tale. But Maguire made his story too realistic. It's ludicrous to think that a kiss (especially considering the unromantic way that Borgian relationships were thrown around as bargaining tools) would be the antidote to a Borgia's poison in this case. And, as if he realized this but just didn't want to deal with it, Maguire didn't even attempt to explain how the kiss revived Bianca. Her resurrection was just an afterthought. ★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ (3/10)
Content:
Blood and gore: yes
Sex: Extreme. There are no graphic descriptions, but everything from rape to adultery and incest to beastiality are mentioned.
Language: Very crude in places. Use of the "s-word."
Thursday, June 17, 2010
50 Years: 1960-2010
Dear Ms. Lee
Thank you for Scout, Jem, and Dill. Thank you for Atticus, Miss Maudie, Tom, Calpurnia, Boo Radley and even Miss Stephanie Crawford; for Maycomb and the image of southern ladies wilting in the heat "like soft teacakes with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum." Thank you for teaching us about kindness, strength and understanding, the true meaning of courage, and what it really means to be "fine folk." Thank you for writing the book that millions of us around the world claim as our favorite, for uniting us and binding us together across generations and continents by our love for your little novel. Thank you for pouring all of your heart and soul into this book. It has captured ours.
Book covers, Part 2
Go ahead--judge this book by its cover
I'm a little late to the game on these, since they came out late last summer, but I spied this Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition of Wurthering Heights at the library last week, and it literally stopped me in my tracks.
How fabulous is that?
I'll admit it--I can't count myself as a fan of Wuthering Heights. I've read it twice and really, really tried. I can see Emily Bronte's genius as a writer and storyteller; but the story she had to tell... Yikes. However, I am in love with this book cover (the illustrations run onto the inside flaps of the book jacket as well), illustrated by Ruben Toledo. For me, they evoke perfectly the twisted, gothic, torrid world of Cathy and Heathcliff. Heathcliff's actually my favorite part of the illustration--he has a kind of sinister James Dean thing going on. It actually makes me want to give the book another chance. And I definitely need this on my bookshelf.
Toledo illustrated two other classic book covers for Penguin as well, Pride and Prejudice,
and the Scarlet Letter.
Toledo's take on Pride and Prejudice doesn't quite work for me. It's a little too Tim Burton for the BBC version that I have running constantly through my head, but I like the Scarlet Letter. It doesn't put me in the novel as well as Toledo's version of Wuthering Heights, but it's an interesting take on Hawthorne. I especially like the gossips. It feels like Desperate Housewives meets Puritan New England, which is kind of fun.
How fabulous is that?
I'll admit it--I can't count myself as a fan of Wuthering Heights. I've read it twice and really, really tried. I can see Emily Bronte's genius as a writer and storyteller; but the story she had to tell... Yikes. However, I am in love with this book cover (the illustrations run onto the inside flaps of the book jacket as well), illustrated by Ruben Toledo. For me, they evoke perfectly the twisted, gothic, torrid world of Cathy and Heathcliff. Heathcliff's actually my favorite part of the illustration--he has a kind of sinister James Dean thing going on. It actually makes me want to give the book another chance. And I definitely need this on my bookshelf.
Toledo illustrated two other classic book covers for Penguin as well, Pride and Prejudice,
and the Scarlet Letter.
Toledo's take on Pride and Prejudice doesn't quite work for me. It's a little too Tim Burton for the BBC version that I have running constantly through my head, but I like the Scarlet Letter. It doesn't put me in the novel as well as Toledo's version of Wuthering Heights, but it's an interesting take on Hawthorne. I especially like the gossips. It feels like Desperate Housewives meets Puritan New England, which is kind of fun.
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