Fairytales generally end the same way: happily ever after. But I’ve never been able to help but feel that it’s a bit of a stretch to ask me to actually believe that they do just sort of float through life happily ever after, so I love seeing follow-ups to, and riffs off of, some of the more popular traditional fairytales!
In Wooden Bones, Scott William Carter explores concerns I’d say were noticeably absent in the original Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi – why being a real boy is necessarily better than being a wooden puppet, for example*, or developing a concept of identity that is not dependent upon being a boy of flesh and bone – while still adhering more or less to the fairytale structure. Pino, the boy formerly known as Pinocchio (because Pinocchio is too long and cumbersome for everyday use, according to Gepetto), discovers that apart from just being a magical boy, in the sense that he became a real boy only with the aid of magic, he truly is a magical boy, in that unlike regular real boys, he has magical powers.
Of course, these magical powers only bring him trouble (as well as helping him get out of trouble by digging himself a bigger hole), but the trouble is what prompts him to come to the realization that it doesn’t matter whether he’s a real boy or a wooden puppet boy: he’s Pinocchio, and perhaps more importantly, Gepetto won’t love him any less for being one or the other. Continue reading
Have you noticed a pattern anywhere in my posts?
Now that I’m looking right at the cover, I’m a little bit confused: the silhouette looks Tinkerbell-esque, and she is most certainly not from a Grimms fairy tale. That’s not important though. In fact, although there are plenty of fairytale references throughout, including (of course) Snow White, in large part in reference to the protagonist Lumikki, who is named after Snow White, the storyline itself isn’t very fairytale-like (apart from the fantastical elements – not fantasy, mind you).
Fast-paced, with a clear progression of events, As Red as Blood keeps you hooked from beginning to end and is a promising beginning to a trilogy. We do not yet own the next two books of the trilogy, As White as Snow and As Black as Ebony, but I’m looking forward to reading them!
(Spoiler alert under the cut!)
At the end of Skam’s third season, three words shine across a dark screen: “ALT ER LOVE.” “Everything is love”, in Norwegian. If you spend as much time on the Internet as I do, you may have heard of the little teen show from Norway that has become a viral phenomenon. It’s easily one of the most binge-able shows ever (flashback to me marathoning season one on New Year’s Eve, and only stopping because my plans got in the way) and it will briefly take over your life. Of course, an American adaptation has already been announced. In the grand tradition of teen shows, Skam deals with a variety of issues. But show creator Julie Andem wanted it to be as honest as possible: no character is wholly good or bad, and they all have a lot of learning to do. And isn’t that exactly what growing up is? Eva must face the consequences of betraying a friend; cool feminist Noora can be preachy and hypocritical; and Isak’s internalized homophobia rises when he falls for the enigmatic Even. The issues aren’t high drama; they’re relatable. And it’s all handled in such a normal way that it’s easy to forget it’s fictional.