Review x 3: The Adventures of Nanny Piggins, Jack, and Meet the Austins

Earlier this week, I wrote a few brief thoughts about each of the books I've read so far this year. It irritated me to not be able to link to some of the reviews (because they hadn't been written yet), so I'm remedying that this week.

1. The Adventures of Nanny Piggins by R.A. Spratt
First up, the silliest book out of the three. In my one-sentence summary, I described Nanny Piggins as "the most unorthodox of nannies," and she is that. For one, she's a pig babysitting human children, so there's the mayhem you might expect from crossing over cultures and, um, species. She enjoys eating (especially chocolate), getting dirty, and skipping school to go on adventures. She has absolutely zero regard for money, and, oh, did I mention she used to be part of a circus?

As you might expect, the children (Derrick, Samantha, and Michael Green) think she is the best nanny ever; their father (if you can even call him that--he never demonstrates even a smidge of parental affection) can't stand her, but she's cheap, the cheapest nanny he's ever had, so he keeps her.

The story is wildly funny and entertaining. I bookmarked a few of my favorite lines so I could give you a little taste of the humor:

After being disqualified from a self-portrait competition: "'But that's pigism,' bellowed Nanny Piggins. She was really cross now. 'How dare you stand up there and be piggist? In front of children too. You should be ashamed of yourself.'"

After getting stranded in a boat in the middle of a downpour: "'Ahnyong,' Nanny Piggins called up to the two men. (This is how you say 'hello' in Korean.) Nanny Piggins may never have been to the seaside but she had spent many long nights playing backgammon with two Korean trapeze artists. And they had taught her enough Korean to buy a chicken, rent a motorbike, tell someone to be quiet in the cinema, and all the other things essential for day-to-day life."

While trying to come up with a plan so Nanny Piggins won't have to return to the circus: "'I once had myself fired through an open window at the cinema just so I wouldn't have to pay for the ticket,' confessed Nanny Piggins.
'Oh gosh!' said Samantha.
'I know. I'm not proud of it,' admitted Nanny Piggins. 'Although I am proud of my landing. I did a perfect somersault into an empty seat in the middle of the back row. I didn't disturb anyone, unlike those people who actually walk in front of people to get to their seats.'
'What are we going to do about the Ringmaster?' asked Derrick.
'Don't worry,' said Nanny Piggins. 'I have a plan.'
'Already?' exclaimed Michael, deeply impressed.
'Oh yes,' said Nanny Piggins. 'I can regale people with anecdotes from my sordid past and think at the same time.'"

The author also occasionally breaks the fourth wall and addresses the reader directly, which I am always a fan of and which instantly increases the humor for me. The only negative thing about the book is that Nanny Piggins is downright naughty at times, and, well, if you don't appreciate the "responsible" adult being the naughtiest one in the book, this story might not be for you. For all others, it's quite the ride.

2. Jack: the True Story of Jack and the Beanstalk by Liesl Shurtliff
A few years ago, Aaron and I met Liesl Shurtliff when she was in Salt Lake City for a book signing (for this book). At the time, we were in the middle of her first book, Rump, and so we bought Jack so we could read it when we were done. And we just now finally got to it.

Jack is not an easy child to parent. He's not bad per se, but he still gets into a fair amount of trouble and likes to mercilessly tease his little sister. His mother doesn't know what to do with him. Then one day, his entire village, including his father, is swept up into the sky. Jack witnesses the whole thing: great booms coming from the sky, dirt falling from the clouds, and giants dropping down to earth. But his mother doesn't see it and thinks it is just another one of his far-fetched stories, which she doesn't appreciate at a tragic time like this. But Jack knows better, and he is desperate to get up to the land of the giants and save his father.

My kids absolutely loved this book. Jack is adventurous and brave and loyal, and, as I said with Rump, it was nice to read a fairy tale retelling with a boy protagonist.

For my part, for whatever reason, the book felt long. I'm not sure what it was exactly because I thought the characters were great and the retelling was clever, but it felt tedious to read out loud. Instead of being anxious to return to it each day and willingly agreeing to read "just one more chapter," I found myself looking for excuses to cut our reading time a little short.

I think what it comes down to is that my kids love a good story, and I love good writing. I love to read aloud books where it is a pleasure to say the sentences out loud because they're so well-crafted. That makes it sound like this one isn't well written, which isn't true. The writing is perfectly fine; it doesn't draw attention to itself in a bad way; it just doesn't sparkle. And I think I noticed it more in this book because it was a little bit longer than some of the books we've read recently, and I was ready to move on before it was over.

But enough of that. My kids had no such reservations about it. They loved it from beginning to end, and after it was over, Max asked me to get the third one for him (the true story of Little Red Riding Hood) as a summer reading program prize. Which I happily did. 

3. Meet the Austins by Madeleine L'Engle
It's dangerous for me to listen to the What Should I Read Next podcast because even when I'm not  asking that question, I almost always come away with books I feel compelled to read right that second. A few months ago, one of her guests, Carolyn McCready, listed A Ring of Endless Light by Madeleine L'Engle as one of the books she loves. She and Anne talked about how much they love Madeleine L'Engle and about how she was such a prolific writer but readers don't always go beyond the Wrinkle in Time series. I certainly never did (in fact, I think I never read more than the first one in that series because, you know, sci-fi). But A Ring of Endless Light sounded different--like it was about a typical girl in a typical family, which was exactly the kind of series I would have loved as a teenager. I really wanted to read A Ring of Endless Light, but it's the fourth in the series, and I thought I better start with the first one.

It's narrated by 12-year-old Vicky Austin. First-person novels can be a bit hit and miss for me because sometimes the narrator is just a touch too witty or clever, and I just can't buy it that anyone would talk or think like that in real life (unless they're British--I'll believe anything if they're British). But in this case, Vicky's voice was natural and authentic (read: not always eloquent but charming in its own right . . . and very convincing).

Her family lives in a small town where her father is the community doctor and her mother is a homemaker. She has one older brother and also a younger sister and brother. Early on in the story, her parents take in 10-year-old Maggie after her father is tragically killed in a plane crash. Maggie has been spoiled all her life, a trait which, compounded with grief, makes her extremely difficult to live with. At first everyone in the family grits their teeth while silently hoping Maggie's grandfather will take her away soon, but after awhile other events, both happy and sad, bring them all together and make Maggie feel like a real part of the family.

It had a very similar feel to some of my other favorite books when I was a teenager: the Melendy quartet by Elizabeth Enright, the Beany Malone series by Lenora Mattingly Weber, and the Betsy-Tacy series by Maud Hart Lovelace. Just a sweet, functional family with normal ups and downs, a few sibling squabbles, and a general feeling of contentment. Now my only problem is going to be finding time for the second and third in this series so I can actually read the book I set out to in the first place.

The Chocolate Touch by Patrick Skene Catling

You may have noticed the influx in book reviews this week. I'm trying to get caught up before my mid-year recap, and I still have a few left to go. Thanks for bearing with me.

We had this book checked out from the library for weeks before we finally got around to reading it. I blame it on Poppy, whose back cover summary pulled in both Aaron and Max, and then we weren't ready to leave her so we moved on to Poppy and Rye. By that time, I considered just handing off The Chocolate Touch to Aaron to read on his own. It looked short and very juvenile, and I was pretty sure it was going to be one of those books I endured for the sake of my kids.

But not at all.

I don't know that a book has ever teased so many waves of uncontrollable laughter out of my kids. I wouldn't have wanted to miss that for the world.

To say that John Midas has a sugar addiction would be an understatement (he and Buddy the Elf would get along famously). It's become such a problem that Mr. and Mrs. Midas are forced to give him a daily vitamin just so he doesn't shrivel up and die of malnutrition.

Then one day, John happens upon a strange coin. And just a few moments later, he sees a candy shop he doesn't recall ever seeing before. He can't resist the temptation and walks in. The storekeeper is very friendly, and when he sees John's coin, he says, coincidentally, that's the only kind of money the shop accepts and and asks if he would he like to spend it on a box of chocolates. John, being the candy glutton that he is, doesn't stop to think about how strange it is that this shop appeared out of nowhere and that it doesn't accept traditional money. He just buys the box of chocolates and then rushes home to tear into it.

He's incredibly disappointed when he finds just a single chocolate in the middle of the big box, but he gobbles it down anyway. And the next morning, the fun begins.

He brushes his teeth and finds his mouth full of chocolate. Before long, his sister finds him squeezing the whole bottle of toothpaste directly into his mouth [insert uproarious laughter from my kids]. He goes downstairs for breakfast, and his mother has never seen him eat such a balanced meal, but it's only because all the food turns to chocolate as soon as it touches his mouth. But what starts out as some amazing miracle soon begins to make John go crazy. His trumpet and his pencil and other items inconveniently change to chocolate. And John is so thirsty, he would give anything for a cool drink of water. He starts to realize that maybe a never ending supply of chocolate isn't such a good idea after all.

My kids' very favorite scene happened when John is walking to school. He's contemplating this new gift of his and begins absentmindedly chewing on the thumb of his glove. Of course, it instantly turns to chocolate. He's still at the beginning of the day, so he happily chews away on more of his glove when he runs into Spider Wilson, a fellow classmate and something of a bully. Spider begins to make fun of John until John demonstrates what happens when he takes a bite of his glove. Then of course, Spider wants to try it for himself. He snatches away one of John's gloves and takes a big bite of it. You can already guess what happens, and so could my boys. The anticipation of Spider's mistake and then watching him spit it out in absolute disgust made them collapse into little heaps of laughter.

My kids had never heard the Greek myth, King Midas and the Golden Touch, and so they didn't appreciate the cleverness of this retelling, but I did. I kept wondering who was going to be the unfortunate person who gets turned into chocolate (like King Midas' daughter). You'll have to check out the book for yourself to find out.

In many ways, this seemed like an expanded version of one of Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's magic cures: a child has an unhealthy habit, the magic is in a little, unassuming package that the child happily scarfs down, and the result is the bad habit to the extreme. It doesn't take the child long to see the wisdom in reigning in his desires and doing all things in moderation.

If you're on the fence about reading aloud to your kids, this would be a perfect book to try it out with. It's short, it has some great illustrations, and it's extremely funny. I dare you not to enjoy it.

Rump: The True Story of Rumpelstiltskin by Liesl Shurtliff

(First off, and unrelated, thank you so much for your kind thoughts on my last post. They were felt and appreciated.)

Last summer, the boys and I braved a chapter book that didn't have any illustrations to accompany it. Since then, we haven't read another picture-less book--not because it was a bad experience but simply because most of the books that are at their level of comprehension and interest tend to have pictures.

After I heard Rump recommended from several trusted sources, I checked it out from the library as our next readaloud, but after skimming through it, I could see that it was another one with no pictures. I read the synopsis on the back cover to the boys, and they agreed that, pictures or no pictures, it was a book they definitely wanted to hear. (And, amusingly, after we were well into it and had completely forgotten about its lack of pictures, Bradley happened to be listening for a few minutes, and he pointed out that the teeny-tiny spools of thread that designated a change of scene were pictures. So there you go--not entirely picture-less.)

Just a few days after starting this book, Liesl Shurtliff actually did a book signing at our local bookstore (for her new book, Jack). Aaron and I went to it, and it was one of the most fun and creative signings I've ever attended. Liesl has a degree in music, dance, and theater (from my own beloved Brigham Young University), and it showed up in almost every part of the signing. She had her son, a nephew, and a friend help her perform a short play of the original Rumpelstiltskin fairytale, she gave a lively reading of part of her newest book, she held a giveaway with a lot of prizes, and she even sang her own rendition of "Somewhere Over the Beanstalk." Fun, fun, fun.

By the time we went to the signing, we were already far enough into the book to be totally committed to it, but if we hadn't been, I'm pretty sure we would have been won over. As it was, we couldn't wait to get home and find out what happened next.

Rumpelstiltskin is not usually painted in a very favorable light: a little man (I usually picture him as old, with a beard) who has this unusual ability to spin straw into gold and uses the predicament of the miller's daughter to gain some things for himself (including her firstborn child).

But what if there was more to the story? What if Rumpelstiltskin was really just a boy? And what if he didn't realize his full name was Rumpelstiltskin but instead had been known his whole life by the unflattering reduction of Rump? What if his skills were actually a curse, not a blessing? And what if he didn't have much control over the bargains he did, or didn't, make? And if all those things were true, then who was the real villain in this story? Liesl Shurtliff sets out to answer all those questions, and in the process, she puts a creative and unexpected twist on Rumpelstiltskin's story.

There's so much to love about this book, so I'm going to get my few criticisms out of the way first. Number One: As you might expect, Rump's name leads to some unfortunate humor. I think it was realistic for it to be there, but it got really old really fast. Number Two: There was a little too much of the same talk about destiny. It felt really repetitive, and I found myself wanting to skip ahead to the action. Number Three: I really loved the idea of Rump's friend, Red, but unfortunately, she never fleshed out into a real, tangible character for me. I suspect that Numbers Two and Three might improve with subsequent books (I'm just talking about tightened up writing and character development in general--I haven't heard anything about a sequel), and I'm looking forward to that.

But now let me tell you what made this book so fantastic that, not even ten minutes after finishing it, Max was already in his room listening to the audio of it. 

I love a good fairytale retelling, but how many can you think of where the main character is a boy? I'm sure they're out there, and if you know of some good ones, please tell me, but I don't know any of them. This one not only stars a boy, but in most versions, he is the villain! A double-wham win for my kids. I'm not opposed to my boys reading retellings of Beauty and the Beast or the Twelve Dancing Princesses or Cinderella, but I'll tell you what, they're going to find a story with a leading male character so much more appealing on the surface, and sometimes, as shallow as that sounds, that's what it takes to actually pick up a book and start reading. (How excited do you think I am that the next book also introduces a boy (Jack, of beanstalk fame) as the main character?)

My favorite part of the book was the whole plot involving Rump's name. He is raised in a community where names are a big deal. They basically spell out your destiny. So, as you can imagine, a boy named Rump doesn't have much hope of an exciting future. But Rump knows that's only part of his name. His mother named him as she was dying, and "Rump" is all anyone heard or understood. So Rump is on a quest to find his true name and accompanying destiny (hence, all the repetitive talk about destiny). But then he figures out he can spin straw into gold, and he gets mixed up with the miller and his daughter and the king, and the resulting mess leads him on a marvelous search where he finally discovers his true name. And it's actually pretty genius.

If you asked my kids why they loved this book so much, they'd tell you it was the trolls and the gnomes and the wildly exciting scene at the end. I liked it for the reasons I already mentioned but also for this little cottage in the woods:

"The room was large, but it was many rooms in one . . . : the kitchen, the bedroom, and the sitting room all occupied their own corners of one big open room, which was bursting with colors and patterns. Sunlight poured in from three tall windows, their curtains intricately embroidered with vines, birds, and blossoms. Four chairs circled a big oak table. They were painted in bright blue, violet, yellow, and green, and each was built in its own unique style and shape, as if they had been designed for very different people. A large bed took up an entire wall and was covered with a blanket woven in rich rainbow colors."

I read that paragraph and then said to the boys, "I want to find that cottage and go inside it. Doesn't it sound so magical?"

The whole book was just a great adventure for us, and we are definitely looking forward to reading more from Liesl Shurtliff.

Princess of the Silver Woods by Jessica Day George

In case you hadn't already guessed from my reviews of Princess of the Midnight Ball and Princess of Glass, this was the trilogy I decided to read for my "Begin and finish a series" goal. I was immensely proud of myself for reading all three books in two months.

But then . . .

. . . my mom and my two sisters saw what I was reading, and they all decided it looked like something they would enjoy, too. My sisters stole the books from me and read all three in a week's time. One week! They didn't even bat an eye about this. They acted like there was nothing unusual at all about reading an entire trilogy in one breath without reading something else in between.

Hmmm. It seems like maybe I'm the unusual one, and I should keep my pride about such ridiculous things to myself. (Even as it was, I read three books in between the second and third books. I couldn't help myself.)

Princess Petunia, the youngest of the twelve dancing princesses, is on her way to visit the Grand Duchess Volenskaya when her coach is attacked by the Wolves of the Westfalian Woods. Oliver, the head of the Wolves, has no intention of hurting anyone, but then, almost without realizing it, he ends up kidnapping Petunia. Even after he has delivered her safely to the Grand Duchess's estate, he finds that his life has become mixed up with hers, and he can't turn his back on her when he can tell that things are not as they seem and feels that something just isn't right.

This book was fun because it brought back most of the characters from the first book: all of the princesses, Galin and Heinrich, the Bishop, Walter Vogel, and even the old crone. And yes, the King and princes Under Stone as well.

This cast of characters gave the trilogy some symmetry and also a sense of finality. However, in retrospect, it made Princess of Glass seem a little out of place. It just didn't have a strong connection to the other two books. Now that I've read all three books, I think the middle book weakens the trilogy. I don't think it would if the third book weren't so strongly connected to the first book. But because there is that connection, the second books seems more like a detour than a part of the journey.

As long as I'm talking about the connection between the first and third books, I might as well mention the ending (you might want to skip this paragraph if you haven't read this book). I was very dissatisfied with the ending. It was much too similar to the ending of Princess of the Midnight Ball. In many ways, I felt like I was reading that book again (which, if I was following my usual habit of putting three years between books, probably wouldn't have been a problem, but spaced just a few weeks apart, this copying was really annoying). Honestly, as I was reading the scene with all the princesses exiting the ball in exactly the same manner as the first book, I kept thinking, The first time was unbelievable. But this? This is not only unbelievable but very uncreative.

And then (still talking about the ending to any readers who are skipping this part), the actual defeating of the King Under Stone was nothing special. It was all magic and spells and good vs. evil and blinding flashes of light, but in the end, it felt very much like Princess of Glass where all of a sudden everything was finished and good had triumphed, but I wasn't quite sure how we got there. Most disappointing to me was the anti-climatic moment with fire. Throughout the story, you get the sense that everyone in the Kingdom Under Stone is deathly afraid of fire. Petunia smuggled a book of matches in with her and tries several times to get something to burn. In the end, she sets the whole silver woods on fire, but it felt more like an afterthought from the author, like Oh yeah, I have to work in fire somehow, than an actual necessity of the climax. I just felt like there was a lot of potential there to make the ending more original and creative, but in the end, the new little bits and pieces were shoved in under the pretense of creativity.

Sorry, I know that all sounded a bit harsh, but poor endings rile me up, especially when the rest of the book is so good.

And it was good.

I loved Petunia and Oliver. Where I loved Galen but couldn't stand Rose in Princess of the Midnight Ball and loved Poppy but couldn't stand Christian in Princess of Glass, it was so refreshing to have this dynamic couple. They were both brave, self-sacrificing, and smart. My only wish is that there would have been a little more interaction between them and maybe a little more romance at the end.

I also loved the way the tale of Little Red Riding Hood was used throughout: everything from Petunia's gorgeous red cape (seriously, I want one) to the little cottage in the woods to Oliver being a Wolf. The ending might have lacked some creativity, but the retelling of this fairy tale did not.

One of the details I really liked was finding out more about the princes Under Stone. In the first book, we know that they were born to mortal women and then taken down to the Kingdom Under Stone. It was so intriguing to have the Grand Duchess and her grandson Grigori take such an interest in Under Stone and make the threat of connecting the two worlds all that more tangible and real.

While on the topic of the princes, I just have to mention one paragraph that seemed so out of place: "...to Petunia familiarity had bred a strange sort of comfort. The clothes were slick and strange, the food tasted like it had been sprinkled with ashes, but she had known Kestilan far longer than she'd known Oliver. Longer than she'd known Galen, even, and he was as dear to her as if he had been born her brother." As dear to her?! Where did this even come from? How do you use the word dear in reference to Kestilan?!  There was absolutely no foundation for such a statement, and I found it not only extremely unfounded but also intensely repulsive.

With a mixed review like this one, it's probably a little bit difficult for you to tell if I would recommend this series or not, so I'll make it easy for you: I would definitely recommend it. No question. Yes, the endings left something to be desired, but the reading experience itself was very enjoyable.

Now that I've read all three books, I can definitely see the value in reading the books in a series back to back (or almost back to back). I was able to make connections and remember details that I wouldn't have otherwise. However, at the same time, I think I might have enjoyed the trilogy a little bit more if my memory had lapsed a little bit between books. I'm glad that I forced myself to read in a new way, but I'm not sure I'm convinced that it's better than my old way. I think I'll just stick with reading whatever I feel like, and if that happens to be two similar books one right after the other, so be it. But if not, I refuse to feel guilty.

Princess of Glass by Jessica Day George

This sequel to Princess of the Midnight Ball was both satisfying and disappointing (with the scale tipping in favor of satisfying).

The story picks up three years after Rose and her sisters broke the curse of the King Under Stone. Many of the countries are still suffering from the chaos and tragedy created from those events, and relations between nations are civil at best. So when Poppy (one of the middle sisters) is offered the chance to spend some time in Breton (in a kind of foreign exchange program), she agrees, although with some reluctance. Being a foreign guest means there will be lots of balls, and Poppy has sworn off dancing for the rest of her life.

Soon after her arrival, Prince Christian from the Danelaw also arrives, and the king of Breton has high hopes of marrying him off to a Bretoner, thereby forming an advantageous alliance. But unbeknownst to anyone else, the Corley (a grandmotherly witch) also has plans, and she has her sights set on a match between Prince Christian and Ellen, a young woman who used to be a noble but, due to a series of unfortunate circumstances, now works as a maid. Soon the Corley has almost the entire kingdom locked in her spell, but Poppy has learned a thing or two about magic, and she is not about to have her prince stolen out from under her.

Right from the start, I liked this book better than Princess of the Midnight Ball because Poppy is, far and away, a much more exciting and personable main character than Rose. She stands up for herself. She has a no-nonsense kind of attitude. And she is full of plans, ideas, and solutions . . . and the courage to go along with them.

Unfortunately, she is paired with Prince Christian, who, in my opinion, is almost no better than a sack of potatoes (a handsome sack of potatoes, yes, but still . . . ). I guess I could cut him a little slack since he was put under a spell and all, but really, spell or no spell, there wasn't anything very interesting there. In contrast, Roger  (a nobleman and friend of the family Poppy is staying with) was spot on magnificent. Cool and heroic and brilliant. I kept hoping he and Poppy would just leave the rest of the kingdom under the Corley's spell and run off together (okay, not really). Don't misunderstand, there was never any hint that this was a possibility. It was just hard to see Poppy falling for Prince Christian when he was so all-around boring.

My favorite aspect of the book was the way the Cinderella story was retold. It took the traditional tale and turned it completely on its head. With Poppy as the main character and Ellen (i.e., Cinderella) in a more secondary, and not all that likeable, role, it revived and made the story exciting again. I loved the way the glass slippers and magical coach and the clock striking twelve all made their way into the story without seeming obvious or contrived. Towards the end of the book, Poppy slips into the Cinderella role for a few hours, which seemed fitting but was also totally unexpected. And then, of course, casting the fairy godmother as the villain was a genius idea.

If it hadn't been for the ending, I would definitely have liked this one more than Princess of the Midnight Ball. But then, the ending! I still don't know what happened. All of a sudden there was crashing glass, and then it was over, and they were all talking about it. I seriously wondered if somehow, even with my slow reading pace, I had inadvertently skimmed over something.

In summary, all of the things I didn't like about Princess of the Midnight Ball, I liked in Princess of Glass. And all of the things I didn't like in Princess of Glass, I liked in Princess of the Midnight Ball. Maybe if the two had been combined, they would have formed the perfect novel.

Then again, probably not.

Princess of the Midnight Ball by Jessica Day George

Ever since finishing (and loving) Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow, I've been wanting to read something else by Jessica Day George. In the midst of my indecision over which trilogy to read this year, I kept coming back to George's princess trilogy--partly because I already owned the set (thanks to my good friend, who also happens to be George's agent) and partly because I have wanted to read this series ever since falling in love with the cover of the second one, Princess of Glass. Oh, and the fact that each book is 250-300 pages, rather than 700, also made them highly tempting. 

I decided I might as well try the first one, and if I didn't love it, then I would still have plenty of time to choose a different trilogy before the end of the year. I shouldn't have worried. As soon as I finished this one, I read the next one, and I could have easily started the third one if I didn't have a couple of other books I've committed to finish in the next couple of weeks.

Queen Maude wanted a baby, and when she couldn't get pregnant, she resorted to making a bargain with the King Under Stone. He was more than generous--promising her twelve daughters instead of just one, and all she would have to do in exchange was dance for him during his midnight balls.

Maude agreed. And for awhile her plan seemed to work beautifully. Every year she gave birth to another beautiful girl. But the King Under Stone gradually began to tighten his hold, making her dance more frequently. Pretty soon, it became apparent that he had more long-term plans for her daughters: he happened to have twelve sons; it would be a perfect match.

When the story begins, Rose (at 17) is the eldest and Petunia (at 5) is the youngest (yes, they are all named after flowers). Their mother recently died and left them to carry out the terms of her curse. It should have just continued to be a quiet family problem . . . except that their father doesn't know anything about it, and he is both puzzled and worried by his daughters' ever-growing pile of worn out dancing shoes. Before long, bad things have started to happen above ground: suspicious deaths, tension between countries, and a threat to the king's title.

But I have yet to talk about the leading man, a dashing former-soldier-turned-palace-gardener named Galen. He is convinced that he can figure out the princesses' mysterious secret and help them, too. Oh, and did I mention that he knits?

I don't often give much notice to plot summaries (I tell you this after I've just given you my own lengthy one and expected you to read every word of it), but I happened to read the synopsis for this one, and I disagreed so much with one part of it that I feel compelled to bring it up here.

It says, and I quote: "But malevolent forces are working against them [Rose + Galen + 11 sisters] above ground as well, and as cruel as the King Under Stone has seemed, his wrath is mere irritation compared to the evil that awaits Galen and Rose in the brighter world above."I beg to differ! The King Under Stone's wrath is no "mere irritation" even when compared with the very serious problems that are being dealt with by the kingdom. The King Under Stone is wicked and vile and frightening, and he is as much a threat to the world above as the world below.

Luckily, I didn't read that plot summary until after I'd finished the book, so I didn't have to struggle with any misconceptions about the King Under Stone being a "mere irritation" while I waited for the real villain to show up. 

Synopsis aside, I really loved the book. I've come to realize that while I'm not a huge fantasy fan, I really do like fairy tale retellings, and this one was both an enjoyable and creative spin on the twelve dancing princesses.

I have to admit, it was hard to keep track of all twelve sisters, all named and with slightly different personalities. And I felt like I was supposed to remember each one since they all had numerous lines and took turns being prominent in a number of scenes. I understand the necessity of having twelve, and in some ways it did make the events more interesting, but I think I would have preferred the focus to be on just three or four of them with the others being important mainly for the numbers. This may have been what she was attempting with Lily and Poppy and Pansy, who did get a little more attention, but the remaining eight were still mentioned too much to forget about them but not enough to truly know them or care about them.

Also, I have to say that I didn't really care that much for Rose, the eldest sister. She was fine but very unmemorable. In other words, she just had kind of a bland personality. Consequently, I thought the romance ended up being a little bland as well (even though I quite liked Galen). (Actually, now that I think about it, my dissatisfaction with Rose is exactly how I felt about Cosette in Les Miserables--like she was created to be an important character but one who wouldn't mess up anything too terribly.)

But those little gripes were really pretty minor in comparison with how much I enjoyed the book. I loved the way knitting was used as both a weapon and a force for good and how it became a masculine activity when Galen was doing it. I loved the descriptions of the King Under Stone's realm (exotically dark and creepy). I loved the way the ending played out and that the solution involved a pair of knitting needles and a chain made of black wool. And I loved, loved, loved the character of Walter (a quirky, but very wise, gardener). It was just a fast, easy, enjoyable read. Exactly what I wanted it to be.

I read Princess of Glass immediately following this one. In many ways I liked it even more, but I have several things I can't wait to bring up in a forthcoming review.