Ophelia Did Get a Rotten Deal, After All

I want to acknowledge right at the beginning that Dating Hamlet: Ophelia’s Story by Lisa Fiedler suffers from a dreadful title.  I know.  If you find it at the bookstore or the library (or look at it online) you’ll probably discover that it suffers from a dreadful cover too.  At least, the copy I read did.  They’re not necessarily intrinsically dreadful, but they give an entirely wrong impression on the book.

“Dating Hamlet” implies a book that is frivolous, shallow and a bit silly.  What you actually get, I am pleased to say, is a solid, insightful retelling of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet from Ophelia’s point of view.  There is humor at times…but there’s drama too.  And there’s a heroine who is much more capable than Mr. Shakespeare portrayed her.

Purists would probably have objections to this book, because some of the plot twists do strain credulity a bit…but that’s what I find fascinating about it.  Fiedler has done an impressive job of preserving everything that you see on stage, while turning it upside down with what’s going on behind the curtain.  By adding scenes in between Mr. Shakespeare’s, the result is Hamlet—but a Hamlet that’s very different from what you may be expecting.  I don’t want to give away the specific plot twists, but to give you an idea of the kind of twists—imagine if, in Snow White, there was an extra scene revealing that Snow White and the Huntsman were actually close friends, and he only took her out in the woods because they had agreed it was a good opportunity for her to run away from the castle.  You’d get the same essential scenes—but different meaning.  It’s a bit like that.

Knowledge of Shakespeare’s Hamlet would help with this book, but I don’t think it’s necessary.  It’s hard for me to judge, because I came to it after reading Hamlet.  Finding a good summary of the play would probably be enough, though; or you could watch the DVD of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare—Abridged (Act Two is Hamlet) by The Reduced Shakespeare Company (actually, you should watch that regardless, because it’s hysterically funny).  And you really ought to just read or watch a good version of Hamlet some time too, because that’s absolutely worth it.

But a discussion of Mr. Shakespeare’s Hamlet would be a different review.  As to Dating Hamlet, if you can get past the title, it’s a fun retelling with a compelling heroine.  A great book for anyone who ever thought that Ophelia got a rotten deal out of the whole thing.  Sorry, Mr. Shakespeare–but you were pretty rough on your tragic heroines.

You’re With The Fortunate Captain Oates

“I have been in love with Titus Oates for quite a while now—which is ridiculous, since he’s been dead for ninety years.  But look at it this way.  In ninety years, I’ll be dead, too, and the age difference won’t matter.”

This is one of my all-time favorite opening lines of a book (right up there with “All children, except one, grow up”).  I read this in a bookstore and knew immediately that I had to read The White Darkness by Geraldine McCaughrean.

The story of fourteen year old Symone’s trip to Antarctica, and how everything goes horribly wrong, is an exciting adventure in its own right.  But what I really love about this book is the relationship between Sym and Titus.

Captain Lawrence “Titus” Oates (at right, though he smiles more in the book) was an Antarctic explorer who went to the South Pole with Robert Falcon Scott.  As Sym notes, Titus has been dead for over ninety years—he died in Antarctica in 1910, with Scott and the rest of their party.  But he lives on in the present day in Sym’s head.  It’s not a fantasy—he’s not a ghost—it isn’t a time travel story—she’s not insane.  Titus is Sym’s imaginary friend.  And who wouldn’t want to be with “the fortunate Captain Oates,” as Titus describes himself in Chapter Twenty-one.  He’s charming and witty and chivalrous, the kind of friend any girl would want.

Or as Sym puts it, “He is everything, everything, everything I ever admired and wanted and couldn’t have.  He is everything I needed and couldn’t find in real life.”  And so he is her friend and confidante and loyal supporter through, first, the Hell of not fitting in at high school, and later, the Hell of the ice plains of Antarctica.

It’s hard to explain how and why a story about a teenage girl and her imaginary friend works—but it does, beautifully.  I’ve read other books featuring imaginary friends, and no one handles it as masterfully as Geraldine McCaughrean.

I also have to give a nod to the audiobook.  Ruth Sillers narrates most of the book as Sym, but Richard Morant narrates all of Titus’ dialogue.  I listened to a brief excerpt when I first found out about this.  Similar to reading that first line of the novel, I heard Morant deliver seven words and promptly handed over $25 on iTunes to buy the audio—and I don’t usually spend money easily or impulsively.  But believe me, his voice is worth following to Antarctica.  🙂

There’s a back story to Morant as narrator that I love.  Within the book, Sym describes watching The Last Place on Earth, a miniseries about the expedition, which is pivotal to inspiring her image of Titus.  And in The Last Place on Earth, Titus is portrayed by—Richard Morant.

I didn’t know much of anything about Antarctica or Antarctic explorers (sorry, Titus) before reading The White Darkness.  McCaughrean provides a helpful background on Oates and Scott, so if that’s you too, you won’t have a problem following the story.  And, like me, by the end you’ll find Antarctica much more interesting than you ever dreamed.  And while it still may not be high on your list of places to visit—it isn’t for me!—Antarctica will conjure up a magic it never had.

Author’s site: http://www.geraldinemccaughrean.co.uk/

And you can see the cover from my copy up there in the heading, towards the left.

Who Knew a Frog Could Be That Adorable?

I plan to cover good and bad books on this blog, but for a first post, I thought I’d start with a favorite.  Wildwood Dancing by Juliet Marillier is a wonderful fairy tale retold–two fairy tales, in fact, artfully combining “The Twelve Dancing Princesses” and “The Frog Prince.”

I love retellings of classic fairy tales.  The original classics tend to have…certain issues, like helpless heroines and not entirely coherent plot lines.  But they usually have some spark that fascinates us–which I imagine is why they became classics to begin with.  For “The Twelve Dancing Princesses,” perhaps it’s the idea that you can escape your ordinary life every full moon to go dancing in a magic land (though the magic land is more or less threatening in different versions).  For “The Frog Prince,” transformation stories, changing what is into something that’s better, have an eternal appeal.

So when you can take that essential spark and reshape a new story around it, one with a vivid and intricate plot, and with an appealing and capable heroine, then you’ve got something really good.

Wildwood Dancing is about Jena and her four sisters.  They live in rural Transylvania, at Piscul Dracului, and for nine years they have been slipping away in the night to dance at the fairy court every full moon.  Jena’s closest companion is Gogu, who’s quite sweet and charming, as well as being an enchanted frog.  Jena and her sisters encounter conflict in both the human and magical world, from mysterious strangers appearing in the Fairy Court, and from an overbearing cousin who seeks to take over Piscul Dracului.

With vivid characters and exciting turns in the plot, this book stays engaging throughout.  And, on the whole, it’s at least as sweet and charming as Gogu.  I can’t say the biggest “twist” of the book surprised me, but that may be me–I’m usually good at guessing twists that I think are supposed to be unexpected.  That’s not always a bad thing though–sometimes when a twist does surprise me, I end up feeling rather like a victim of “bait and switch.”  This book, on the other hand, feels as though everything came out perfectly, gloriously right.  I read the conclusion to the romance twice–and again just now.  It’s that cute.  🙂

Author’s website: http://www.julietmarillier.com/

And by the way, that’s my copy of Wildwood Dancing up in the banner–towards the right.