Showing posts with label Childrens Literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Childrens Literature. Show all posts

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Quick Look: The Ice Dragon


Back in 2007, GRRM's The Ice Dragon was 'released', hoping in some part to sate the ravenous hunger of ASoIaF fans. It was a perfectly calculated release; it had the name, it had dragons, and it had elements of a hard winter. Westeros it wasn't, but it had enough close elements to sell.

It was also, for all intents and purposes, a children's novel. No, scratch that, a children's story; made into a lovely hardcover with illustrations by Yvonne Gilbert.

I passed on it then. I have no problems reading children's lit; and I was intrigued to see how Martin would handle it. But I read some well-reasoned reviews painting it as a sub-par story to boot, and so I passed.

Fast-forward to the present. I saw the more recent edition of The Ice Dragon at my local library. This is the 2014 edition that boasts the beautiful artwork of Luis Royo (more in line with my personal aesthetic leanings, but this perspective is, of course, the decision of the consumer). And so, I reasoned, why not try it now (especially since it is free)? I left it out on the table to see if it piqued the interest of any of my Hach-lings first. My 11 year old daughter wasn't interested. My 10 year old son took a crack at it. He liked the pictures. He liked a lot of the parts of the story. But, what I got from him was that "not much happened" in the end. Fair enough. I figured at that point I might as well take a crack at it.

First of all, bear in mind that even in 2007, The Ice Dragon was not a "new" story. GRRM did not interrupt his busy ASoIaF writing schedule to pen this children's tale. The Ice Dragon was originally an entry in the 1980 Dragons of Light anthology.

The Ice Dragon tells the story of Adara, a "child of winter", in an unnamed kingdom. She was born during a brutal winter, one so harsh that it claimed the life of her mother during the delivery. Adara has always been a cold, solitary child, most comfortable during the bitter winters, the season of her birthday, and the time when she can behold her very special friend - a noble ice dragon.

Ice Dragons are fearsome beings, even in this land where knights soar in the skies on serpentine mounts. But not only has Adara befriended this one, she rides it as well. Theirs is a strong bond; constrained to those wintry months. For as mighty as the ice dragon is, the climes of the warmer seasons would melt its very body away.

However, there is also trouble brewing. The kingdom Adara lives in has been embroiled in a years-long war with a neighboring land. As they find themselves on the losing end of the skirmish, what lies in store for the land Adara knows; her father's land, where her mother is buried, where she meets her special friend every year near her birthday?

For the most part, The Ice Dragon is a well-written little story. The premise is fascinating, as one would expect from GRRM. It stimulates and grabs your imagination. Martin also shows that he can accomplish thorough world-building with brevity, rather than hundreds of pages of soul-crushing exposition (or at least used to be able to). The imagery is magnificent, and the action is grand and exhilirating.

Where The Ice Dragon falls apart, the true devil in the details, is the lack of an "ending". Great premise. Strong buildup. Outstanding climax. And then, loose ends hurriedly tied into a random arrangement. It doesn't make sense, strengthen, or behoove the narrative. The ideal ending didn't have to be sappy, melanchy, or even preachy. It just had to be there. It had to be something that answered the question "Ok, so what was the point of this story anyway?". And, in that regard, the ending is more incongruous than satisfactory.

All in all, give The Ice Dragon a shot. It is a nice little story, and an excellent primer if you have young ones that you expect might segue to the ASoIaF series one day. Just remember, it is not a 100 page epic. It is a 30 page story, lifted from a 36 year old anthology, bolstered by pictures, with text inflated to help it reach the 100 page mark. It feels, I don't know, unnecessarily extended. There's a familiar taste to all of this....


It's still GRRM, though. Vintage Martin, but still the fingerprints are all over the pages. And I cannot laud Luis Royo's artwork enough.

Final Score: 6/10

Art/Illustrations: 9/10

Sunday, November 10, 2013

The Mouse And His Child

The Mouse and his Child by Russell Hoban. With illustrations by Lillian Hoban. Originally published in 1967 (this edition by Harper & Row). 182 pages.

Sometimes it helps to take a step back from the usual genres being reviewed and remember that there are so many children's literary works worthy of real consideration. I've always had a fascination with Russell Hoban's The Mouse and his Child, although this was mostly in regards to the 1977 animated version. I used to catch it on frequent HBO showings, and to be honest, I don't remember much of the movie itself. I do remember that (to my younger self), it did succinctly convey those notions of fear, wonder, and love that are the integrals pillars of the work. Luckily, since I am long overdue for a re-visit of the film, it is available to view in its entirety on Youtube:


A few years ago, memories of watching the film popped into my head one day, and I reserved the book through a local library. I read a few pages in, enjoyed it immensely, and then decided to wait until my children were a little bit older, so that I could read it with them, and then we could all enjoy the book together for the first time. So, a few months ago, I grabbed a copy, and began reading two or three pages a night to my older daughter. All I can say is that this is a beautiful piece of writing that so deserves to be read by young and old (preferably together). But enough about my personal investment in the story; on to the book itself.

The Mouse and his Child tells the tale of the two titular wind-up toys. In the world of the narrative, the toys "come to life" at the stroke of midnight; although this animation is limited, since they become able to think, and talk, but still rely on manual winding for movement. The mouse and child, while technically one toy (they are joined at the hands and share a winding key), have separate personalities. The tale opens with their first awakening in a toy shop, and with coming to grips with what they are in fact, are. Being Christmastime, they are soon bought, played with for a while, and then discarded. Finding themselves alone and abandoned in a dump, this is where there journey truly begins.

One of the greater themes of TMahC (and there are quite a few themes within) is societal structure and finding ones place within. At the onset, the pair learned of the establishment that was the toy store, with its great dollhouse and monarch wind-up pink elephant. In the dump, however, it is a different story. The animals reign in the denizens of the dump. Striding atop the hierarchies of the dump are the rats, led by the odious Manny Rat. Manny is a particularly nasty customer; conniving, shrewd, sharp at business and handy with mechanical parts. He also runs a 'forage squad' of tossed wind-up toys that he uses to gather junk, by both honest and dishonest means. The hapless mouse and child, incapable of self-winding, are shanghaied by Manny. After a botched robbery attempt in which they were forced to participate, the wind-ups find themselves fleeing the dump and certain death from the pursuing Manny. They are aided in their urgent egress by the prophetic Frog, a kindly fortune-teller/surveyor who finds his fate intertwined with theirs.

Along their journey, the mouse and child run into colorful characters, and latch onto new concepts. From observing a turf war between two groups of warring shrews, they learn the idea of territory, and why it is so important (and they decide they want their own). From an eccentric avian theater troupe, they learn companionship, and glean hope as to the fate of a fellow former toy store wind-up. And. at the end of their trek, they hope to meet up with Muskrat, a genius mathematician who may hold the secret to self-winding.

To divulge any more would compromise too many story points, but suffice to say, as in life, there are many ups and downs, and the downs seem to outnumber the ups.

Hoban is an author who obviously does not feel the need to pander to a young audience. Rather, he embraces and celebrates their resilient optimism, and simple common-sense. There are some mature elements in the book; extended periods where things just do not go well for the protagonists, and there is a good deal of violence, blood, and death. Again though, kids know what these things are, and Hoban knows that they know. The focus here is on this father and son pair, lost in this new, dark, bleak world, facing danger at every turn. The son strengthening and developing into a spiritual and moral compass, as the father focuses on their day to day safety and survival. The trying voyage that cements their bond as each other's whole world. Wait a minute, I think that I've read a story like this recently.....

I can't decide which one had more heartbreaking moments to be honest.

The prose is charming throughout. As mentioned before, there are some big words which will need explaining for kids (especially those in the 7-11 range, which I think is a good target audience). There are many strong instances of imagery throughout; central of which is the fact that father and son are joined at the hands for the book. A small drum, salvaged from a shrew drummer boy, beats time near the child's chest, simulating a heartbeat.

Hoban also incorporates many different philosophies into TMahC, without giving any a preference as the superior. There are Frog's oracular prophecies, Muskrat's mathematical tangents, the deep, philosophical ramblings of C.Serpentina, and the mechanical "know-how" of Manny Rat. Each mindset has its own chance to shine, to show its strength and validity.

Now, for all the accolades, this is not a flawless book, either. There are scenes that meander, and dialogue that drags on. The ending is wrapped up just a little too tidily for my taste, as if a box bounced in the back of a parcel truck on a cross-country jaunt just to get decked out in a shiny red ribbon. But these are minor quibbles that barely mar a great piece.

Very highly recommended.

Here's what it is:
A great bedtime story tome that truly stresses the wonders and values of friends, family, home, and belonging, while also incorporating high stakes, danger, and sadness. Get it, read it, love it.


Final Score:

91/100

Cover Score:

As with most older titles, there are various covers for The Mouse and his Child. The one read, the Harper & Row edition, has the same picture as in the picture at the top, although with a bluer background palette and a different dollhouse design. I like the covers that utilize the artwork of Lillian Hoban, who also provided the inside illustrations. They are simple, and sketchy, but sufficiently emotional.

Cover Final Score:

80/100