Bone: Quest for the Spark, Book
Three. By Tom Sniegoski. Illustrated by Jeff Smith. Graphix/Scholastic.
$10.99.
Marigold #1: Once Upon a Marigold—Part
Comedy, Part Love Story, Part Everything-but-the-Kitchen-Sink. By Jean
Ferris. Sandpiper. $6.99.
Marigold #2: Twice Upon a
Marigold—Part Comedy, Part Tragedy, Part Two. By Jean Ferris.
Sandpiper. $6.99.
The Adventures of Sir Gawain the
True. By Gerald Morris. Illustrated by Aaron Renier. Sandpiper. $4.99.
When My Baby Dreams of Fairy
Tales. By Adele Enersen. Balzer+Bray/HarperCollins. $15.99.
“I’m too old for fairy
stories,” says the exhausted and skeptical Chief of a warrior band in the third
and final book of Bone: Quest for the
Spark. But in truth, it turns out that he is not too old for what only
sounds like a fairy tale, told to him by Tom Elm, who – with his friends,
including several Bones – is on a heroic quest to prevent the world from being
plunged into eternal darkness. The quest
motif is a common one in fairy tales, and the way the quest progresses – with a
brave group being sundered and forced to operate separately until, joining near
the climax, its members rescue each other and save everything – is pretty much
standard in heroic fantasy. Bone: Quest
for the Spark fits neatly into that category, and its characters sometimes
seem almost aware of the fact, with 12-year-old Tom realizing at one point that
the battle between light and dark is an eternal one: “Now he knew that this
battle had raged since the beginning, that light and dark had always been at
odds. ...It was a balance, as it always had been, but the powers of darkness
were growing greedy, desiring what they once had. Before the Spark and the
coming of light. When all was black.”
Tom Sniegoski does a good job of keeping Bone: Quest for the Spark in the universe created so effectively by
Jeff Smith in the original nine-graphic-novel Bone series; and Smith’s excellent art (beautifully colored by
Steve Hamaker) ensures that this trilogy’s conclusion fits tightly into the Bone world from a visual
perspective. The reappearance in Bone: Quest for the Spark of a major,
enigmatic character from the original sequence – the gigantic mountain lion
whose name is the title of the fifth graphic novel, Rock Jaw, Master of the Eastern Border – pulls Sniegoski’s work
even more closely into alignment with Smith’s original, and that is all to the
good. The basic themes worked out here
are familiar ones in many heroic quests: bravery against formidable odds, the recruiting
of unlikely allies, the possibility of a traitor in the midst of the noble
warriors, and others. There is also some of the comic relief here that Smith
managed to weave into the Bone
graphic novels – mostly through the antics of the Rat Creatures, Stinky and
Smelly. And the new characters
introduced in this book – notably Stillman, a small dragon, and his turtle
friend, Porter – offer equal parts amusement and heroism. The basic story of the evil dragon called the
Nacht, and the attempt to prevent the victory of darkness by use of the Spark,
for whose reassembly the quest has been launched, is a very straightforward
one. Sniegoski handles it well, notably by splitting it into so many pieces as
the adventures of old and new characters alike go along on separate tracks
until they eventually intersect. The
fact that good will eventually triumph over evil has never been in doubt since
the start of Bone: Quest for the Spark.
But it is rarely in doubt in most fairy tales. Those stories’ pleasures – and
the pleasures of Sniegoski’s trilogy – lie in joining the good guys’
adventures, rooting for them to overcome adversity, and being present when they
ultimately, against all odds, come out on top despite the apparently greater
strength of their foes.
Fairy tales with a
humorous twist offer somewhat different kinds of enjoyment. The first two books
in the Marigold series, dating to 2002 and 2008 respectively and now available
in paperback, are particularly good examples of the use of fairy-tale motifs to
tell what is essentially a very funny (and, yes, occasionally
filled-with-adventure) story. Once Upon a Marigold is the story of how
Christian, a commoner who lives in a cave with a troll and has a thing for
Princess Marigold, actually wins the girl of his heart and manages to foil the
nefarious scheming of Queen Olympia – who is plunged into the river below the
castle, never to return until Twice Upon
a Marigold. In the second book, the evil queen has recovered her memory
(conveniently lost until its reemergence is needed to move the plot) and sets
about once again to destroy the now-rulers of the kingdom, Christian and
Marigold. Oh, and their happily-ever-after
hasn’t turned out so happily after all, which is a nice touch. In fact, these two Marigold books are full of
nice touches: Jean Ferris channels fairy tales while mixing them with bits of
romance and a coming-of-age plot (the first book starts when Christian is only
six years old). What these books have
that most fairy tales do not is well-thought-out characterization: Ferris’
creations have depth, and enough quirks to distract readers from the fact that
many plot points are predictable. For
example, Edric, the troll who raises Christian, likes to offer adages – and
mixes them up; Christian has a stubborn streak that lands him in all sorts of
trouble, including with Marigold after they marry; and Marigold herself likes
some pretty bad jokes, which is an interesting characteristic for a member of
royalty to display (Marigold’s discovery of knock-knock jokes is a high point
of the second book). Twice Upon a Marigold is not quite as
original or endearing as Once Upon a
Marigold, but its focus on Olympia and on the bickering between Christian
and Marigold keeps it interesting and unusual – and the whole book sets the
scene for the forthcoming Thrice Upon a
Marigold, which will take the story into a further generation by focusing
on Christian’s and Marigold’s daughter.
Gerald Morris’ series,
The Knights’ Tales, also partakes of
both humor and derring-do, and in the case of The Adventures of Sir Gawain the True the two are pretty much equally
balanced. This book is largely a
retelling and expansion of the famous story of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight,
a 14th-century lesson in chivalry and honor updated by Morris for
the 21st (the book was originally published in 2011). The original tale has the mysterious Green
Knight offering to accept anyone’s ax blow if he may deliver a similar blow to
the ax wielder in a year and a day. Gawain beheads the Green Knight, who picks
up his head and walks off, reminding Gawain of his promise. And Gawain goes
through many travails as he endeavors to keep his word. This is the basic plot of The Adventures of Sir Gawain the True,
but even a short novel like this one needs a bit more fleshing-out, so Morris
turns the book into an exploration of loyalty, friendship and gallantry (an
easier concept for modern readers than chivalry). And the author is not above addressing the
reader directly: “The idea of ‘vows’ has already figured several times in this
story, and since that idea is about to be important, it is worth pausing over
it for a moment. A vow, of course, is a promise, but in King Arthur’s time, promises
meant rather more than they sometimes have since then.” Just how much they mean is one of the lessons
that Gawain learns – along with finding out that courtesy can be as important
as courage, and other good stuff that promotes balance between action and
thoughtfulness. The Adventures of Sir
Gawain the True is not really as preachy as a brief description makes it
sound – it is fast-paced and funny – but it does have a lesson to teach, and it
manages to do so quite well even while keeping its readers amused.
And just to make sure
that fairy tales and other explorations of myth continue to be of interest to
the next generation, there are works such as Adele Enersen’s When My Baby Dreams of Fairy Tales, a
charming picture book in which Enersen imagines the dreams of her daughter,
Mila. The photographs here are just
luscious, showing sleeping Mila as the princess who felt the pea beneath
multiple mattresses (here, comforters); letting down her long golden hair, as
Rapunzel did; kissing the frog prince;
looking like Thumbelina and Tinker Bell; and more. Enersen rings some amusing changes on the old
stories, for instance by combining Red Riding Hood’s tale with that of the
three little pigs – who escape by learning to fly. One of the most amusing photos here shows
Mila – sound asleep, as she is in all the pictures – apparently playing the
recorder, while two stuffed teddy bears “accompany” her on flute and violin,
and the whole ensemble is “conducted” by another stuffed animal. Enersen goes beyond traditional fairy tales
into a broader definition of the genre, showing Mila as Mary Poppins in one
photo, as a searcher for the Little Prince in another, and aboard an Arabian
Nights flying carpet in yet another. The world of fairy tales is surely wide
enough to accommodate all Mila’s dreaming, and all the costumes and settings
that Enersen can dream up for her.
Seeing Mila asleep through all the posed scenes does lend the book an
imaginative quality – and seeing her awake at the book’s end, in a real-world
setting, is a wonderfully visual way to tell readers (including other parents as
well as children) that the fairy-tale world may be one of dreams, but those
dreams live on in our waking lives to the extent that we absorb, modify,
interpret and continue to enjoy them, as we are likely to continue doing for
many generations to come.
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