I finished reading a marvelous novel, a fable incorporating adaptations of several fairy tales - “The Book of Lost Things” by John Connolly. Set in World War II London, the book follows the adventures of its main character, a twelve-year old boy named David, as he seeks to make sense of loss, jealousy, and hatred. A touching and sometimes creepy tale of a child being propelled into adulthood and responsibility.
The fairy tales themselves provide the most fascination. Such a shame that Disney had to dilute them to such pale versions of their earlier selves in order to bring them to the screen. Not that there really are true, authentic versions of these tales. Many fairy tales exist in alternate forms across many cultures. It’s utterly delightful to imagine, for example, Little Red Riding Hood being the seductress and using her budding sexuality to tempt the wolf.
And a piece of cake with a bottle of wine to nurse Granny back to health? I think I need some of that medicine!
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